SAN DIEGO
 
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 A WORKING WOMAN'S LIFE
 
 A WO R K I NG 
 WOMAN'S LIFE 
 
 AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 BY 
 
 MARIANNE FARNINGHAM 
 
 AUTHOR OF " GIRLHOOD," " HARVEST GLEANINGS," 
 " WOMEN AND THIIR WORK," ETC. 
 
 "Forget not all His benefits" 
 
 SECOND IMPRESSION 
 
 LONDON 
 JAMES CLARKE & CO, 
 
 13 & 14 FLEET STREET, E.G.
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 I HAVE had frequent misgivings while writing this 
 autobiography, for I know of no particular reason why 
 it should have been written ; and it has appeared very 
 egotistic to do it. But many friends have expressed a 
 wish that I should myself write the story of my life, and 
 in some respects it has been a pleasant task. I have 
 found it an interesting life to live, but I do not know 
 whether it will be interesting to read. My hope is that 
 it may be useful, especially to girls and women who are 
 timid as to the years before them and the duties they 
 have to face. We change our mottoes as we proceed 
 through life. Mine is now, "Let not your heart be 
 troubled " ; but through all my working years my 
 favourite was, " I can do all things through Christ who 
 strengtheneth me." My story is one of God's goodness 
 and mercy ; if it may inspire hope and trust in some who 
 are beginning their lives, to God be all the glory. 
 
 M. F.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTBR PAGE 
 
 I. A CHILD OF THE COUNTRY n 
 
 II. CHILDHOOD 25 
 
 III. GIRLHOOD 43 
 
 IV. BEGINNINGS 59 
 
 V. THE CHRISTIAN WORLD 73 
 
 VI. NORTHAMPTON 88 
 
 VII. THE FIRST SUNDAY SCHOOL PAPER . 100 
 
 VIII. MY BIBLE CLASS 111 
 
 IX. NEW WORK 131 
 
 X. MY FATHER 144 
 
 XI. LECTURES 153 
 
 XII. TRAVELS 172 
 
 XIII. EDITOR OF THE SUNDAY SCHOOL TIMES. . 191 
 
 XIV. SORROW AND JOY, WORK AND REST . . .208 
 XV. MY COTTAGE AT BARMOUTH .... 230 
 
 XVI. THE GROWTH OF GREAT CAUSES . . .241 
 
 XVII. RELINQUISHMENTS 255 
 
 XVIII. AFTERMATH ........ 265 
 
 XIX. EVENTIDE ........ 271
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 MARIANNE FARNINGHAM (Photogravure Portrait) Frontispiece 
 
 MY PURITAN GRANDMOTHER, ANN HEARN To face page 14 
 
 OUR FAMILY GROUP , 58 
 
 REV. JONATHAN WHITTEMORE 74 
 
 (The first number of The Christian World in his hand) 
 
 MRS. WHITTEMORE 74 
 
 AN END OF OUR CLASS-ROOM 124 
 
 MARIANNE FARNINGHAM AT THE AGE OF 40 . 138 
 
 THE BARMOUTH COTTAGE 230 
 
 THE COTTAGE KITCHEN AT BARMOUTH . . 240 
 
 MY COTTAGE, CRAIG-YR-HEBYL, WITH VIEW . 260
 
 A WORKING WOMAN'S LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 A CHILD OF THE COUNTRY 
 
 I BEGIN the story of my life on a March day in the 
 first year of the new century. The air is full of 
 retrospect. The passing of the nineteenth century, and 
 the death of the great and beloved Queen, have forced 
 back the thoughts of the people, and for a little while, 
 before the flood of the new times carries us onward, we 
 all halt for a moment or two and think of the past. I 
 have a past to think of, too, and though there is nothing 
 very remarkable to make it worth the telling, every life 
 is interesting, and perhaps I may have a few friends in 
 different parts of the country who will care to read the 
 simple story of a worker's life. So, while the birds are 
 singing the old love song in a new spring, the primroses 
 are opening their eyes in the woods, and the trees are 
 covered with buds pushing their way to the light, I will 
 try to forget how far I am on into the autumn, and go 
 back to the sweet fair days of my spring. 
 
 I had the good fortune to be born in the country. 
 Farningham is a winsome little village on the banks of 
 the Darent, in the midst of the garden of Kent, and 
 
 II
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 halfway between London and the county town. It was 
 on December 17, 1834, that I came into the world, the first 
 child of my parents, who were married on the previous 
 Christmas Day. My father, Joseph Hearn, was a small 
 tradesman, and my mother, whose maiden name was 
 Rebecca Bowers, was the daughter of a working paper- 
 maker, who was also a preacher of great force and 
 originality. Myearliest recollections are of a wonder why, 
 whenever he preached, the chapel seemed always full, and 
 why people both laughed and cried during his discourse. 
 I can recall my grandfather, Mr. George Bowers, of Eyns- 
 ford, as I saw him on several occasions. In the pulpit I 
 always thought he looked a very fine man. Seated in 
 our kitchen, talking with some old friend, each smoking 
 a long clay pipe, and with a glass of home-brewed beer 
 on the table, as was customary then, I was a little afraid 
 of the keen eyes that watched me. He and his friends 
 spoke on high themes, of Calvinistic doctrine and the 
 heresies of Arminianism, and sometimes they lapsed 
 into village gossip. I always tried to understand, and 
 was always bewildered. I remember him, too, as the 
 host of his family on Christmas Day. He had a large 
 number of sons and daughters I think about a dozen 
 and most of them had large families too, but we all 
 kept Christmas together in the old house "down the 
 lane " until we were quite too many even for that 
 hospitable table. His wife, my grandmother Bowers, 
 was a sweet, placid old lady, and some of the proudest 
 moments of my life were when she took my arm as we 
 walked to chapel together. She must have been very 
 short, for I was not then full-grown indeed, I never 
 
 12
 
 A Child of the Country 
 
 have been and she died when I was about eight. My 
 grandfather lived to be a very old man, and as long as 
 he was able he walked many miles to the different 
 villages to preach. He kept his keen wit and spirituality 
 to the end. A friend once told me that he said 
 to him, " Creasy, I shall die in debt." " How is that ? " 
 asked Mr. Creasy. " Why, I can never pay the thanks 
 I owe, for gratitude can't keep pace with mercies," he 
 replied. 
 
 My father's mother lived with us, a dear old lady, 
 who thought beautiful thoughts, and expressed them in 
 beautiful language. She wrote poetry, and her prayers 
 always seemed to take me into heaven. It was she 
 who taught me to read, and, strange as it seems now, I 
 was thought to be rather a prodigy because when I was 
 six years old I could read any chapter in the Bible. 
 The Bible, indeed, was my only lesson-book then and 
 for years after. How I loved it! In it I found an 
 inheritance of wealth which has made me rich all my 
 life. My grandmother also taught me a prayer, written 
 by Isaac Watts, in monosyllables 
 
 " May I live to know and fear Thee, 
 Trust and love Thee all my days, 
 Then go dwell for ever near Thee, 
 See Thy face, and sing Thy praise." 
 
 The last I remember of my grandmother Hearn was 
 one night during a terrible thunderstorm. I think there 
 have never been such thunderstorms as those we had at 
 Farningham. She was ill and in bed, and we were all 
 in her room. I recall how peaceful she was through the 
 storm, and that it quieted my fear to hold her hand. 
 
 13
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 She was very deaf. There was an awful clap of thunder 
 that seemed as if it would bring the house down. She 
 opened her eyes with a smile, and asked, " Was that 
 thunder ? " And then she repeated a verse which we 
 do not often hear now 
 
 " This awful God is ours, 
 
 Our Father and our Friend, 
 He will send down His heavenly powers, 
 To keep us to the end." 
 
 My father and mother were both members of the 
 Baptist church at Eynsford, a pretty village about a 
 mile from Farningham. They were both Sunday school 
 teachers ; indeed, the life of the chapel was their life, and 
 it became mine. I have been told that when I was a 
 month old, and my mother was able for the first time to 
 go to chapel, she took the baby too. It was customary 
 to have tea in the vestry. After tea the friends went 
 into the chapel, and I was laid, happily asleep, on the 
 table in what was known as the " singing pew," in which 
 at the ordinary services the choir sat. As those who 
 formed the tea-party were interested in the new baby 
 which had come to Joseph and Rebecca, they held a 
 prayer-meeting for the child. I have always had the 
 feeling that no baptismal service in any church, though 
 performed by a priest, assisted by godfathers and god- 
 mothers, could have been a more real consecration than 
 that simple prayer-meeting in the village chapel. I was 
 a "child of many prayers," and delight to think friends 
 prayed for me when for the first time I entered a chapel. 
 
 The influence of this little dissenting church and its 
 associations, not only on my own early life, but on that
 
 MY PURITAN GRANDMOTHER. ANN HEARN.
 
 A Child of the Country 
 
 of our neighbours, was very great. Eynsford, through 
 its agency, touched many other villages. It was a 
 "Particular Baptist Church," founded in 1775, and con- 
 sisted at its formation of five members, who were bap- 
 tized in the Darej^t on a profession of their faith in the 
 Lord Jesus. Its first meeting-house was a stable fitted 
 up for the purpose. Much opposition and persecution 
 attended its inception, but the little cause grew and 
 flourished in spite of that. In 1802 a young Baptist 
 minister became its pastor, whose name, John Rogers, 
 will be revered through all generations, for he was one 
 of the most distinguished of the Nonconformist ministers 
 of the time, a man of remarkable ability, of noble 
 character and great power and influence, richly endowed 
 by the Spirit of God. Two years later a new chapel 
 was erected, which for a hundred years was the home of 
 devotion and love. The wife of Mr. Rogers was the 
 sister of my Grandmother Hearn ; they were both strong, 
 sweet women, of considerable culture and striking mental 
 powers, both women of unflinching principles and strong 
 convictions. I have said that my grandmother was deaf, 
 but she always attended the services, and Mr. Rogers 
 said she was his great helper, for while he preached she 
 prayed, " Save Thy people. Bless Thine inheritance." 
 The church was absolutely Calvinistic, as well as Par- 
 ticular Baptist. Other churches were judged to be in 
 error ; but Mrs. Rogers wanted to tell the people that 
 every one who would might be saved. It is curious 
 to-day to remember what fierce fights were once fought 
 under the two banners of Calvinism and Free Will. I 
 am ashamed to say that the only recollection I have 
 
 15
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 personally of Mr. Rogers is that of his giving me 
 some plums, pushed through his garden gate one at a 
 time. 
 
 I love to think of my child-life in those two villages > 
 Farningham and Eynsford. My father, who never had 
 a yard of land of his own, had a passion for building, 
 and in our little garden he erected two outhouses. 
 One was a workshop, and the other was for domestic 
 purposes a place in which the washing could be done, 
 and with a loft above for storage. This loft was a place 
 of mystery to me. There were several hives of bees, 
 and there were openings through the walls for their con- 
 venience, and my father took as much pains with their 
 homes as with his own. He made models of various 
 places of interest. Among the rest was Windsor Castle, 
 a duplicate of which he made and sent to the Prince 
 Consort, who returned him an autograph letter of 
 thanks. My father was very fond of his bees, and he 
 and they were good friends. I remember once he took 
 me up with him to perform a curious little ceremony. 
 He had lost a cousin, and he told me he was going to 
 inform the bees, and they would say they were sorry. 
 He tapped the hive, and then said in a low, quiet voice, 
 " My cousin is dead," and I felt a cold shiver pass over 
 me, as I distinctly heard a wailing response like a 
 buzzing moan from the bees. There was also in the loft 
 a telescope, through which I often looked into the heart 
 of a beautiful wood that was a mile or two away. My 
 father intended to use the lower part of this building as 
 a small private brewery, and he had just secured all the 
 necessary utensils for brewing his own beer, when some 
 
 16
 
 A Child of the Country 
 
 great temperance orator, perhaps Father Mathew, came 
 to the village. My father was convinced, and became 
 one of the first total abstainers. The next day he told 
 me about it, and, showing me the pledge which he had 
 signed, asked me if I would like my name to go down 
 with his. I could not write, so he guided my hand, and 
 together we wrote my name. It was rather hard in 
 those days to be a teetotaller, and at the parties to 
 which I was invited I had to endure much. My father 
 had just been made a deacon, and a lady told him that 
 if she had known he was going to be an abstainer she 
 would not have voted for him, as his conduct was most 
 unscriptural ! 
 
 In course of time other children came to keep me 
 company, until there were five of us, three girls and 
 two boys. We went to Sunday school as soon as we 
 were able to walk the distance, the girls always being 
 dressed exactly alike. There was no day school to 
 which we could go. A young ladies' boarding estab- 
 lishment existed, to which, quite early in my life, I 
 turned longing eyes, but the charges were too high 
 for my father's means. There was also the National 
 school connected with the Church of England, but we 
 were never allowed to go there. It was then, as now, a 
 Nonconformist principle not to allow Chapel children to 
 learn the Church Catechism, and whatever might have 
 been my father's opinion, his fellow-members considered 
 it a far greater sin to send children to the National 
 school than to let them remain uneducated. At Eyns- 
 ford there was a small dame school, to which I went 
 for a little while, but for the most part all our early 
 
 17 B
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 lessons came from our parents, chiefly, of course, our 
 mother. She taught us to sweep and clean, sew and 
 knit, to mend and make, and to be careful in the 
 exercise of all household arts. " Think of what you are 
 doing," was a frequent hint given to me, because, when 
 I was darning stockings, or sewing seams, or even 
 dusting a room, my thoughts were generally " over the 
 hills and far away," for I began to dream as soon as I 
 began to think. It was a beautiful world of fancy in 
 which I lived, and I saw lovely sights, and did heroic 
 deeds ; and my everyday life was beautiful too, for it 
 was filled with love, the joy of doing, and much running 
 about in the open air. 
 
 I had the one great illness of my life when I was 
 very young indeed. I can just remember the hours of 
 delirium and suffering. It was small-pox with compli- 
 cations. Once I seemed to come out of the confusion 
 of my brain, and saw mother wringing her hands with 
 tears running down her cheeks, and I heard her say, " My 
 poor little dying child ; O Lord, take care of her." I 
 do not remember refusing to let our minister pray with 
 me, but my mother afterwards told me that I did, to her 
 very great grief and anxiety, for it filled her with fear 
 in regard to my spiritual state. She was not quite 
 comforted until months after, when the prizes were 
 given in the Sunday school, and I chose for mine a 
 volume of " Sermons to Children," though I have not 
 the remotest idea why. It was a long and weary period 
 of convalescence through which I passed, and I lay in 
 utter weakness and prostration day after day. My bed 
 was an old-fashioned four-poster, with white hangings 
 
 18
 
 A Child of the Country 
 
 and curtains. They were trimmed with tassels, and 
 these tassels were a constant source of interest to me. I 
 called them men and women, or children walking in 
 procession, sometimes to a school-treat, but oftener to a 
 funeral, and I used to wonder if it were my own. The 
 next thing I remember was a terrible hunger that would 
 not be appeased. I have seldom felt myself so badly 
 treated since as in those days when roast apples took so 
 long to roast, and my mother turned deaf ears to my 
 entreaties for cake, and ruthlessly cut away all the fat 
 from my specially cooked mutton-chop. But I remember 
 how sweetly and tenderly she seemed to love me in 
 those days, and how there was a strange difference in 
 the way in which she talked to me. We had a beautiful 
 old family Bible with pictures, and this was always 
 brought out on Sunday evenings, and we used to sit and 
 stand around our mother while she told us stories. It 
 seemed that every Sunday evening, before bedtime, we 
 went to Bethlehem. Every little touch and incident 
 was so dwelt upon that the Holy Birth became part of 
 our life. All the words of Jesus grew so familiar to us 
 that we were never able to forget them after. We were 
 taught to repeat them reverently long before we could 
 understand them, and they have never seemed more 
 beautiful than in those first days. But we had our Old 
 Testament favourites too; Baby Moses was always "a 
 dear little thing," and Joseph in the pit, and Daniel in 
 the lions' den, were tragedies which, when we were away 
 by ourselves, we often acted. The Bible was in our 
 home the children's library. We were never told fairy- 
 tales, but our mother used often to recite to us Jane 
 
 19
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 Taylor's " Moral Songs," and we had our share of 
 old nursery rhymes, and dearly loved " Old Mother 
 Hubbard" and "Little Red Riding-Hood," though I 
 am not quite sure that they held their own with Jonah 
 and the whale. 
 
 My first attempt at rhyming was an epitaph on a 
 dead toad which we found in the garden, and which we 
 put in a match-box and buried with great solemnity. I 
 could not write the epitaph, for in the matter of writing 
 I was quite behind the other children of my age. My 
 ignorance in this respect was a sore trouble to me, and I 
 made the lives of my parents a burden to them with my 
 continual cry, " Teach me to write." At length a very 
 pleasant plan was thought of. The next house but one 
 to ours was the home of the Rev. John Rogers ; his 
 youngest daughter, Isabella, hearing of my childish 
 desire, kindly undertook to teach me to write. My 
 father took great pains with a little box in the shape of 
 a book, which he made to hold my copy-book, pen, ink, 
 ruler, and pencil, and which I proudly carried under my 
 arm when I went to receive my writing-lesson. 
 
 Two incidents illustrate the awakening of the soul 
 of a child. Seated on a footstool, I was one morning 
 rocking my brother in his cradle, with a bound volume 
 of The Sailors Magazine in my lap. Some of our 
 ancestors were seafaring folk, and I have an indistinct 
 idea that one of them was the Captain Gibbon, who first 
 brought mahogany into England. I think it was my 
 Grandmother Hearn who gave me the magazine to read 
 while I rocked baby. Turning over the leaves, I found 
 two poems, which had a marvellous effect upon me 
 
 20
 
 A Child of the Country 
 
 One was about a family Bible, and the last line of each 
 stanza was 
 
 "The old-fashioned Bible that lay on the stand." 
 
 The other was the hand of an angel that led me into a 
 wonderful world of vivid imagination and unutterable 
 joy. It was " The Better Land," by Felicia Hemans. I 
 wish I could describe, even if only so far as I am able 
 to live it again, the strange, sweet emotions which over- 
 came me as I read those lines. I remember that having 
 read through the poem, I was obliged, to prevent myself 
 from being overcome by faintness, to put down the 
 book and go to the door for a breath of fresh air, though 
 the baby had not gone to sleep and soon summoned me 
 back to duty by loud cries. How the music and the 
 rhythm charmed me ! Quite what I saw I cannot/ 
 remember, as I repeated softly to myself 
 
 " Is it far away in some region old, 
 Where rivers wander o'er sands of gold, 
 Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, 
 And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 
 And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand : 
 Is it there, sweet mother, this better land ? " 
 
 It was at this time that Nature claimed me and 
 drew me to her very heart. At the bottom of our 
 garden, and past the two buildings, was a wall, just low 
 enough for me to look over, and also to get over on many 
 happy holidays. I must have spent hours, as a child, 
 leaning against that wall and looking out into the world of 
 summer. First there was a meadow, and a gate out of 
 it led into another meadow, in which was a row of magnifi- 
 cent lime-trees, which I loved and almost worshipped 
 
 21
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 even now the scent of the limes can make me feel a child 
 again. At the end of this meadow was the river Darent, 
 which made music day and night ; in it watercress grew, 
 and such forget-me-nots as are not to be found in the 
 world beside, and over it the willows bent, and God's 
 skies of blessing stretched. Then far away in the blue 
 distances were gentle hills, and shady woods, and 
 picturesque little villages. This view from our garden 
 wall was never the same two days together. I could 
 always find surprise of loveliness hidden away in some 
 corner of it. It was ever beautiful, spring, summer, 
 autumn, or winter. The summer sunsets were heavenly ; 
 indeed, it often seemed to me that heaven itself was 
 just over there as far as my eye could reach, and I have 
 many a time imagined groups of angels and the "in- 
 numerable company" moving about in the masses of 
 white and golden clouds. Often I have stood with tears 
 in my eyes, and my heart throbbing with love and 
 gladness, and tried to say something to God to let Him 
 know what I was feeling. I wonder if He took the 
 child's silent ecstasy for praise 1 
 
 I was never allowed to stay long enough to satisfy 
 me, for the cheery voice of my mother would call me 
 into the house to amuse my brothers and sisters, or do 
 some work. I am afraid she was grieved at my evident 
 love of standing still and gazing. On one or two 
 occasions, to my utter shame, she broke in upon me 
 when I was talking to myself, and ordered me to sweep 
 the carpet all over again, or showed me some article 
 of furniture which I ought to have dusted. Dear 
 mother ! she did not like my always having a book in 
 
 22
 
 A Child of the Country 
 
 my hand or pocket, and would have been better pleased 
 if I had been equally fond of the brush or the needle ; 
 but she did her best to keep me at work all day, only 
 letting me have books and magazines when my tasks 
 were done. She took care, however, to give us all a/ 
 very good time. She loved to see us play and to play 
 with us. She was so proud to see us looking pretty and 
 clean that we were always sorry when we had spoiled 
 her handiwork, though I am afraid my repentance had 
 not much practical effect, for I was a rollicking, mis- 
 chievous child, often getting into trouble. Once, in 
 trying to get through a hedge, I tore a pinafore that 
 was nearly new. A poor, sobered, remorseful child I 
 was as I went home, with the thought of my mother 
 before me. It happened, however, that she was out } 
 and so I put myself to bed that night. Kneeling beside 
 the bed, and repeating my prayers, the thought of God 
 suddenly came to me. In a flash I remembered what 
 I had been told about Him, that He was good and great 
 and could do everything, that He loved good children, 
 and even forgave naughty ones ; and the thought occurred 
 to me that I had only to pray and He would mend my 
 pinafore for me. So I asked Him to do it, saying over 
 and over again,) " O Lord, have mercy upon me, and 
 mend my pinafore for me, for Jesus Christ's sake, Amen." 
 Then I got into bed and waited, closing my eyes in awe 
 and expectation. Several times I got out to pray again 
 and examine the hole, and at first it seemed to me that 
 it was really getting smaller, but after a time the dis- 
 appointing conviction was forced upon me that the hole 
 remained exactly the same ; and I lay in my bed softly 
 
 23
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 sobbing for the unanswered prayer not knowing how 
 many thousands had done so before me. I had several 
 aunts whom I loved, sisters of my mother, but the 
 dearest was Aunt Mary. She came into the room, and, 
 stooping to kiss me, discovered that I was awake and 
 crying. I was comforted and quieted in her kind arms, 
 and soon told her the whole story how anxious I was 
 that mother should not know that I had torn my pinafore, 
 and how disappointed I was in God. Said my aunt, " I 
 will mend it for you. Perhaps that is God's way of 
 answering you. Perhaps He sent me here to-night on 
 purpose. Now try to trust in Him and go to sleep." 
 I did ; and never a word did I hear from my mother 
 about that torn pinafore. I have many times since 
 imagined the smiles of the little family group down- 
 stairs, but I think it was very sweet of them not to 
 laugh away my faith. 
 
 24
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 CHILDHOOD 
 
 MY first real sorrow was the death of my little brother, 
 the eldest son, but that memory is so faint that I 
 think my parents must have deliberately resolved not to 
 let it overshadow us more than was necessary. I remember 
 seeing my father walk about with him in his arms, and 
 that we were told afterwards how the Good Shepherd had 
 taken our little brother Alfred to be with Him. Also 
 I remember that we were all put into black frocks and 
 white diaper pinafores, and that we wore white socks and 
 patent strap-shoes. On the night of the funeral I could 
 not sleep, and I lay listening to the nightingales. Our 
 house was nearly opposite the vicarage garden, or at 
 least it was near enough for the sounds to come to me 
 through the stillness of the night. The birds thrilled 
 and comforted me strangely. At first I was half 
 frightened, thinking the singers must be something more 
 than birds, the sounds were so loud as well as sweet ; 
 but afterwards I remembered what I had heard about 
 nightingales, and was sure the songs were theirs. The 
 nightingales in the vicarage garden were delightful 
 realities to me in all the summers of my childhood's 
 life, for there were many nights when I was sweetly 
 
 25
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 disturbed by their singing, and I linked them with 
 heaven. 
 
 I must have been between nine and ten when there 
 was a grand achievement by the Nonconformists of our 
 villages, and I had my heart's desire, and went to school ! 
 Joseph Lancaster and his schools were so talked about 
 that even Farningham and Eynsford heard of them. 
 The necessity of educating the children was felt more 
 and more, and two or three men had consciences that 
 would not let them rest because of the wrongs and 
 losses of the little ones of the chapels ; and therefore, 
 under the auspices of the British and Foreign School 
 Society, a building was erected at Eynsford. On the 
 day of the opening of the school my mother took me 
 and my next sister, Rebecca, and we were among the 
 first scholars enrolled. It was a great event, an almost 
 unprecedented thing for our mother to be out in the 
 morning with her children, My youngest sister, Heph- 
 zibah, was also with us, but the authorities decided that 
 Heppie was too young to be admitted, much to that 
 little person's wrath and disappointment. 
 
 All the Farningham scholars took their dinners to 
 school, and we had glorious times in that dinner-hour. 
 The river ran at the bottom of a short meadow near the 
 playground, and was a source of endless interest to us. 
 Curious scenes were enacted on the bank, and many 
 dangerous games were played. One of the willows was 
 bent over the water, stretching half across the stream, 
 and of course that was our favourite tree. I often con- 
 ducted a baptismal service there ! As my friends were 
 Baptists, it goes without saying that it was a baptism 
 
 26
 
 Childhood 
 
 by immersion. We dressed up all sorts of things in 
 the school towels. I stood upon the extreme edge of 
 the trunk, and the boys on the bank, who represented the 
 deacons, passed the candidates on to me, and with more 
 or less difficulty I dipped them, while the other children 
 on the bank sang Hallelujah. The ceremony was the 
 most easily accomplished when the river was full, for it 
 was impossible to maintain a ministerial dignity when 
 stooping low, or lying flat on the trunk, in order to 
 reach the water. We were found out all too soon, for 
 we had an accident which probably prevented a much 
 greater catastrophe. My sister took off her pinafore to 
 wrap round "the candidate," which was that day the 
 school bucket, and they floated away together. We all 
 tried with sticks and umbrellas to get it out, but did not 
 succeed in reaching it. The loss of two such valuable 
 things as the pinafore and the bucket naturally occa- 
 sioned considerable questioning, and the truth came 
 out. Punishment was meted to the offenders in what 
 we considered quite undue and undeserved measure. 
 There was also an abiding penalty, for we were for- 
 bidden ever to go into that meadow again during the 
 dinner-hour. I was plenteously punished at school for 
 my general naughtiness, and at home for my lack of 
 reverence for the solemn subject of baptism. I was 
 the most sorry because my governess, whom I loved, 
 called me a ringleader. Indeed, I must have been a 
 very naughty little girl, for I remember one teacher 
 telling me, in the Sunday school, that, but for the facts of 
 my being a child of many prayers, and that nothing was 
 too hard for the Lord, she would think there could be 
 
 27
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 no salvation for me, and that I was certain to be sent to 
 hell ! I was extremely shocked, and was glad when, 
 soon after, the superintendent put me into another class. 
 ' I loved both the day and the Sunday school, being 
 passionately eager to learn, and I really wanted to be 
 good, though I think no one understood this but my 
 mother. I used to be examined at home in regard to 
 what I learned at the British school, and my father 
 often said, " I do not think you are learning anything 
 whatever there, only they are managing to make you 
 more intelligent," which was perhaps the best way of 
 educating rne. The knowledge received at the Sunday 
 school was, however, very definite and dogmatic. It 
 was a happy thing, for which I have been thankful all 
 my life, that I was made to learn by heart long passages 
 of Scripture. Let no one think that this was ever a 
 hardship. The grand themes, and the stately, beautiful 
 language in which they were told, fed my very life. I 
 think the first I learned was the twenty-third psalm, 
 and there has never been any time when every sentence 
 has not appealed to me. The fifty-first also was a great 
 favourite it expressed so much of what I felt. The 
 Gospel of St. John I learned from beginning to end, and 
 the heart and mind of the child never saw the slightest 
 difficulty in it. Many chapters in the other Gospels 
 were also committed to memory, and some from the 
 Epistles. Naturally I did not understand them, nor 
 even try to, but I knew that they dealt with high things, 
 and delighted in the words. As to the hymns which I 
 learned, and repeated to my teachers, I am amazed 
 that books containing them were ever put into the hands 
 
 28
 
 Childhood 
 
 of children. Of course, like everybody in the school, I 
 learned 
 
 " There is a dreadful hell, 
 And everlasting pains, 
 Where sinners must with devils dwell 
 In darkness, fire, and chains." 
 
 We sang the words glibly enough and without much 
 thought of what they meant, but I am none the less 
 sure that the theology of the day, and particularly of 
 those hymns, had considerable influence on the minds 
 of the young singers. Hell was a very real thing to 
 me, and I had a curious fancy, when a very young 
 child, that it was underground, and that there was 
 one entrance to it from a certain place just outside 
 Farningham, which was called Whitepost Hill. Many 
 a time when I have been walking up that road alone, 
 with a weight of many sins upon my conscience, I have 
 been afraid there would be an earthquake, which would 
 swallow me up ; and I have run over it in breathless 
 haste and with panting prayers. Once, in a very dry 
 season, there was a slight fissure in the road, and until 
 the merciful rain came and healed it I often slipped 
 away from my home to see if it had grown wider, for 
 I quite expected to meet my doom there. 
 
 Much of the religious teaching of the day was far 
 more sombre than it should have been, and I rejoice to 
 think that only the happier side of Christian life and 
 theology is presented to the children of to-day. The 
 following hymn is one which I learned when very 
 young, and it was one of my chief favourites too, 
 though now I should blame any teacher who allowed 
 
 29
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 a merry child to learn by heart such sentiments in 
 regard to "the life that is." We sang what was not 
 true, for the land was not barren, neither was it a vale 
 of tears. 
 
 " Young as I am, with pilgrim feet, 
 Father, I travel to Thy seat ; 
 And, leaning on my Saviour's hand, 
 Prepare to leave this barren land. 
 
 tf My cradle was beset with fears, 
 My infant eyes o'erflowed with tears, 
 Ere I could good or evil know, 
 My little heart was filled with woe. 
 
 11 While o'er this desert world I roam, 
 Teach me to seek a better home ; 
 Unstained by woe, unchanged by years, 
 Unlike this gloomy vale of tears ." 
 
 This hymn was in the little book published by the 
 Sunday School Union, in a red-leather binding, which 
 many of us well remember. Most of the hymns were 
 bright enough, and a special favourite at that time was 
 "Hosanna," a hymn written for the Sunday School 
 Jubilee. " I think when I read that sweet story of old," 
 and "See Israel's gentle Shepherd stands" were also 
 very dear to us. 
 
 There was another hymn sung in our school once a 
 year, on Whit Sunday, the moral tendency of which 
 was no doubt good, but which brought painful blushes 
 to the cheeks of many of the girls. It was the fashion 
 in Kent to put on our new summer clothes for the first 
 time on that day, when the gallery on which the scholars 
 sat suddenly bloomed into a flower-garden. Our Sunday 
 school treat was always held on Whit Monday, so that 
 
 30
 
 Childhood 
 
 altogether it was a gay and festive time. Our good old 
 superintendent, Mr. Whitehead, seeing the pretty array 
 of the girls before him, never failed to give out with 
 great emphasis two lines at a time, because not many 
 of us had books these verses 
 
 " Why should our garments, made to hide 
 Our parents' shame, provoke our pride ? 
 The art of dress did ne'er begin, 
 Till Eve, our mother, learned to sin. 
 
 " When first she put the covering on, 
 Her robe of innocence was gone ! 
 And yet her children vainly boast 
 In the sad marks of glory lost. 
 
 " How proud we are, how fond to show 
 Our clothes, and call them rich and new, 
 When the poor sheep and silk-worm wore 
 That very clothing long before. 
 
 " The tulip and the butterfly 
 Appear in gayer coats than I ; 
 Let me be dressed fine as I will, 
 Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still." 
 
 The only time I loved that hymn was one Whit- 
 Sunday when my sister and I had to appear without 
 our new dresses I 
 
 This superintendent, a farmer and fruit-grower, lived 
 at Swanley, and for forty or fifty years, through all 
 weathers, winter snow and summer heat, he walked 
 three miles every Sunday morning to Eynsford chapel, 
 in time to begin school at nine o'clock. We never 
 knew him to be a minute out ; he kept even better 
 time than our clocks. When in doubt, we watched 
 for him to pass our house, and, seeing him, knew it 
 was time for us to run off as fast as we could. He 
 
 31 -
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 spent the whole day at the chapel, but so did many 
 /others. As soon as we were old enough, this used to 
 be our Sunday programme : Seven o'clock prayer-meet- 
 ing, nine o'clock Sunday school, half-past ten public 
 worship, two o'clock Sunday school, three o'clock 
 service, half-past five o'clock Sunday school prayer- 
 meeting, six o'clock service. I remember once when 
 we had attended all these and sat down to conclude 
 with family worship, my brother, tired out, pleaded in 
 v pitiful voice, " Father, read a short psalm." We used 
 to go home to breakfast, but took our dinner with us, 
 and ate it in our own pew, which was just inside, and 
 was comfortably curtained round ; but tea we had with 
 the rest in the vestry, and a very happy time the friends 
 spent together. It was like the meeting of a great 
 family, and they came from all the villages around, 
 Kingsdown, Meopham, Ash, Sutton, Darent, Cray, 
 Swanley, Shoreham, Sevenoaks, and perhaps other 
 places. Farmers drove, and brought their families, 
 and others walked. Nobody thought it a hardship to 
 walk five or six miles to chapel. The devoutness, the 
 piety, the Christian friendship and love, all seemed 
 very beautiful to me, and the gladness was like that 
 of the tribes that went up to Jerusalem. The joyous- 
 ness of these Sundays was wonderful. The chapel was 
 the centre of intense love and loyalty. I remember 
 with what a burst of pure delight the opening hymn 
 used to be sung. 
 
 " How did my heart rejoice to hear 
 
 My friends devoutly say, 
 In Zion let us all appear 
 And keep the holy day." 
 32
 
 Childhood 
 
 That little plain chapel, with its whitewashed walls, 
 its table pew, and unadorned gallery, was a veritable 
 temple to the loving hearts of its worshippers. The 
 church at Eynsford was a mother-church. Not only 
 was its pastor, the Rev. John Rogers, a man of consider- 
 able intellectual power and great personal influence, but 
 there were other striking preachers, who often took the 
 afternoon service when the minister was otherwise 
 engaged. Those were hard days for Dissent, and I 
 think our people were pretty abundantly persecuted, 
 but it is certain that they rejoiced in that tribula- 
 tion. I remember hearing that my Grandmother Hearn 
 was baptized in the river, and on her way home 
 was followed by a mob of rough village folk, who 
 seriously injured her by throwing stones and brickbats 
 at her. Still later, when the baptistery was in the chapel, 
 I was told how a wife was baptized whose husband 
 sat in a pew a little way off with a loaded gun, with 
 which he had declared he would shoot her when she 
 came up out of the water. It was spoken of as one of 
 the glorious triumphs of grace that at that service he 
 was changed from a rebel into a repentent seeker of 
 salvation. 
 
 Most of the people living at a distance returned to 
 their homes at the close of the afternoon service, but 
 not to be idle, so far as religious duties were concerned. 
 In those days the family was all-important, and the 
 obligations of children and parents received stern and 
 unfailing attention. The children were questioned on 
 Sunday evenings, not only on their lessons in school, 
 but the sermons which they had heard, and every one 
 
 33 C
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 < was expected to repeat the text. Family prayer was as 
 little likely to be omitted as breakfast or supper, and 
 the sins of the children were visited with unflinching 
 discipline. Parental authority was no dream in those 
 days, but the greatest reality which sons and daughters 
 knew. The father was the master and judge of the 
 household, and straight and strong were the words he 
 addressed to the company of servants and children 
 gathered in the kitchen or the dining-room. " Spare 
 the rod and spoil the child " was a frequently quoted 
 axiom, and the quoter almost always believed that 
 it was from the Bible, and was originally spoken by 
 Solomon. 
 
 We got on better than most, because our mother was 
 our minister, and the lessons we had on Sunday evenings 
 were those of love ; but our home was conducted on 
 
 , strictly religious principles. Father always prayed for 
 us individually. One special plea for me I remember 
 because it was almost invariably uttered, " Bless dear 
 Polly, and grant that she may find favour with Thee, 
 and with the people with whom she may come in 
 contact." I knew this was asked because I was so 
 much more plain-looking and uninteresting than my 
 brothers and sisters, and that my future prospect was 
 a gloomy one, but I hoped it might prove truly an 
 answered prayer. I record most thankfully that the 
 one great blessing given to me all my life has been the 
 grace and favour of the people among whom I have lived 
 and worked. 
 
 The following sketch, written for The Christian World, 
 reveals a little bit of our family life : 
 
 34
 
 Childhood 
 
 "HOP-GARDEN MEMORIES 
 
 " When we were children, one of the happiest days of the 
 year was that on which we went 'a-hopping.' We lived on 
 the direct road from London to Maidstone, and before our 
 village was reached hop-gardens began to be seen, while a 
 little below us the best hops were grown, and the largest 
 acreage was given to their cultivation. That was before the 
 time of cheap trips by rail, and the Londoners usually walked 
 the distance, pushing the trucks, or wheeling the barrows 
 which carried the few household goods, including the baby, 
 that were needed for a prolonged stay in the country. A 
 saucepan or kettle, one or two mugs, an old shawl and a 
 couple of blankets were generally packed in the vehicle, which 
 sometimes, instead of being pushed by hand, was drawn by an 
 old horse or donkey. The passage of the ' hoppers ' through 
 our village was watched with interest, and there was one 
 Sunday especially which they spent at rest on the route, 
 sleeping in stables, coach-houses, or even doorways, when we 
 had more of them than we liked ; but they often travelled in 
 picturesque processions, and made up very merry parties. Our 
 sympathies, however, were not with the strangers from London, 
 but the village folk, who resented their intrusion as likely to 
 keep down the wages and make the hop-gardens uncomfort- 
 able with dirt and bad language. The hop-picking season was 
 of great consequence to the villagers. Money then earned 
 was delightful, because it was extra, and provided many com- 
 forts which could not otherwise be secured. The year's rent 
 was almost always paid out of ' hopping-money,' which also 
 served to buy the coals for winter, and it was a settled and 
 understood thing that each member of the family should have 
 a new pair of boots or shoes at the end of the hop-picking 
 work ; also that if new jackets for the boys and new dresses for 
 the girls were needed the only way to pay for them was to earn 
 money at the ' bin.' So, of course, when we had our day in 
 
 35
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 the hop-garden, we at once made our way to some old neigh- 
 bour or hard-working widow, and volunteered our services. 
 
 " From the time when we began to be aroused, between three 
 and four o'clock in the morning, by the cheery laughter of the 
 hop-pickers setting out to work, until our day came, we thought 
 and talked of little else. And when, at last, dressed in lilac 
 sun-bonnets and coloured pinafores, and carrying with us our 
 dinner of bread-and-butter and apples to eat, and bottles of 
 milk to drink, we started for the hop -grounds, there were no 
 happier little people than we in all the world, especially if our 
 gentle mother went with us, as she usually did, not only to 
 take care of us but to enjoy the fun too. What a cool, lovely 
 walk it was across the white fields from which the corn had 
 been carried, along the shady Kentish lanes, and over the 
 green meadows ! And there is not anything more beautiful 
 than the English hop-gardens. Compared with them, all the 
 vineyards of Europe excepting, perhaps, those of Italy are 
 most uninteresting and disappointing. The vines of the Rhine 
 and of Switzerland are only like kitchen gardens of French 
 beans beside our graceful hops. It was a great pleasure to 
 walk along scented avenues of them, with the tall bines inter- 
 lacing overhead, and with the great three-lobed leaves, and 
 pretty, soft, cone-like catkins making a graceful shade from the 
 sun. Planted three together in a triangle, they had climbed up 
 the twelve-feet-high poles, and were hanging in beautiful gold- 
 green clusters at the top. But we had something more to do 
 than admire the festoons and walk along the trellised way ; and 
 so we took side-cuts and followed the sounds of voices until 
 we reached the cleared spaces in which the ' bins ' were placed. 
 Does everybody know what a hop-bin is ? It is like a large 
 sack, open length-wise at the side, and fastened to a wooden 
 frame. The pickers stand by the side of the bin and drop the 
 hops in. The hop plants are brought and laid over the frame 
 by the ' pole-pullers,' whose duty it is to cut the bine and pull 
 
 36
 
 Childhood 
 
 up the poles and bear them to the workers, who are ready to 
 strip off the pretty clusters with great speed. 
 
 " We always received a welcome, and were soon at work ; 
 those who were tall enough stood at the bin, and the others sat 
 on heaps of poles and dropped the hops into baskets or bags, 
 or open, turned-up umbrellas. We worked as fast as we could, 
 each trying to fill his or her receptacle, and putting as few leaves 
 as possible into the basket. The pungent aromatic scent of 
 the hops and the pleasant work in the fresh air acted like a 
 tonic, and talk and laughter and sweet song were heard in all 
 parts of the ground. We did not sing Sankey's hymns, for 
 they had not yet been written, but such old favourites as 
 { Grace ! 'tis a charming sound,' and ' Guide me, O Thou great 
 Jehovah,' would be raised, and groups of chapel-goers would 
 sing them, the children's voices being the sweetest and heartiest 
 of them all. I can never forget the triumph which once, after 
 missionary meetings had been held in our villages, rang out in 
 the hymn, ' O'er the gloomy hills of darkness, look, my soul, be 
 still and gaze.' 
 
 " But ' hopping ' is very appetizing work, and it was with 
 wonderful relish that, at twelve o'clock, we forgot the blackness 
 of our hands and the bitter taste on our lips, and ate our thick 
 bread-and-butter. We made our way after dinner to the hedges 
 and the woods, for hopping and nutting and blackberrying all 
 come together, and the time is a right royal one. Some of us 
 went rather far, and tarried a good while, but we always got 
 back for tea, when the kettle was boiled over the wood fire, and 
 the picnic was one never to be forgotten. After tea there was 
 more work, for the measurers would soon come round to put 
 the hops into the bushel-baskets, and then empty them into the 
 big hop-pockets. Those of us who had been idle, or had played 
 truant, were always sorry then, for if the bushels told up well 
 our friends were glad and grateful, because they were paid a 
 shilling for each six or seven bushels that had been picked. 
 
 37
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 The time was the merriest then, for it was almost certain that 
 one of the little ones would be caught up and tossed into the 
 bin, and covered over with the soft hops, and there were such 
 shriekings of laughter, and scamperings away, that the fun 
 became quite riotous. Our father had probably arrived by 
 that time, and we all went home together, then a happy family 
 of six father, mother, three girls and one boy and I could 
 weep because there is only one of us left to-day to tell the story." 
 
 It was perhaps when I was about ten that we 
 had measles. Our mother, the gentle nurse of us all, 
 unfortunately caught the infection, and was never 
 strong afterwards. When we had sufficiently recovered 
 to be out in the garden again, I suppose the stage of 
 convalescence found us very weak, and in order to 
 encourage us to stay in the open air, and put forth our 
 little strength, mother bought us all skipping-ropes. We 
 did not know how to use them, so she showed us on a 
 never-to-be-forgotten evening. We stood around, merrily 
 laughing at the sight of our mother skipping like a girl, 
 while we counted the times she kept up. Suddenly she 
 dropped the rope and leaned against the wall, holding 
 her handkerchief to her lips, and I noticed that it was 
 stained with blood. 
 
 That was the beginning of the end. The doctor was 
 a frequent visitor at our house for a long time after. 
 Mother was advised to try a specialist, and my first visit 
 to London was on that occasion. We travelled on the 
 coach, for there was no railway. The coach was an 
 interesting institution in our village ; it went every day 
 from Maidstone to London and back, and called at 
 Farningham at an inn opposite our house to change 
 
 38
 
 Childhood 
 
 horses. My mother appeared very sad and tired as we 
 came home. I did not know then that she had received 
 her death sentence. She kept about as long as she 
 could, and then took to her bed, on which she lay fc/ 
 many months. Dear, tired mother! she had worked 
 very hard for us all, and it must have been a sore trial 
 to be inactive and suffering in bed while we needed her 
 so much downstairs. A few days ago, while turning 
 over some old papers, I discovered her will. It is dated 
 Farningham, June 30, 1846, and begins thus: "I, 
 Rebecca Hearn, feeling myself growing weaker, and 
 being convinced that I shall never revive, desire in the 
 event of my death that the few following things may be 
 given and received as tokens of affectionate remem- 
 brance." Then followed the disposal of her few posses- 
 sions amongst us all, including her mother and four 
 sisters. The pathetic document thus concludes : " I 
 desire to commend my dear husband and children to 
 the guidance and care of our never-failing Friend. I 
 hope my dear children will be kind and affectionate to 
 each other, dutiful and obedient to their dear father and 
 those who may have the care of them, and as they grow 
 up be industrious and careful, and above all, oh, that 
 they may be led early to seek the Lord Who has said, 
 ' I love them that love Me, and those that seek Me early 
 shall find Me.' I now desire to commit myself into His 
 gracious hands, begging Him to prepare me for what- 
 ever He has prepared for me, and to 
 
 " Assure my conscience of her part 
 
 In the Redeemer's blood, 
 And bear Thy witness with my heart 
 That I am born of God. 
 
 39
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 " When I to death draw near 
 Then, Jesus, look to me ; 
 Dispel my every fear, 
 And bid me come to Thee. 
 
 "And, oh, may I like Stephen prove, 
 The sweet supports of Jesus' love. 
 
 "REBECCA HEARN." 
 
 My father told me some years afterward that these 
 pleading sentences were quite characteristic of my 
 mother. She was a very humble-minded Christian, 
 who felt her own unworthiness too greatly to have much 
 triumph of faith and assurance of acceptance. She was 
 a lowly follower of the Lord Jesus Christ, and she had 
 much of His spirit in her character and life ; she was a 
 tender, loving, reverent, self-forgetful Christian ; a wise, 
 devoted, prayerful, watchful mother ; a beautiful woman 
 in appearance, graceful in all her actions, whose life was 
 a revelation of consecrated and absolute love. 
 
 I used to sit and sew in her bedroom, and read to 
 her from a book called " The Dying Christian," and 
 oftener talk to her, and listen to what she said. She 
 was never a great talker, but I remember that she had 
 a whimsical way of putting even grave and serious 
 things, and that she always seemed to me cheerful and 
 bright whenever I was allowed to be with her. I was a 
 long time being made to believe that she must really 
 die, and I remember my impassioned prayers to God to 
 spare her. She was so much more to us than our father 
 that again and again I sobbed out this beseeching 
 petition, " O Lord, if you must have one, please take 
 our father to heaven, and leave us our dear mother." 
 
 40
 
 Childhood 
 
 Indeed, my life at that time was one long prayer: 
 " Spare my mother. Do not be so cruel to us little 
 children as to take our mother away." At last, in my 
 despair, I cried, "O Lord, let us all die when mother 
 dies, if she must." 
 
 It was on Christmas Day that she died, the anni-, 
 versary of her marriage. That Christmas Eve burnt 
 itself into my soul. To this day I do not know how 
 to bear the sounds of Christmas bells and carol-singers. 
 I stood alone in a dark room, my brother and sisters 
 having been sent to bed, pressing my hot, tear-stained 
 face against the window-pane, and peering out into the 
 darkness at the singers. While they sang " Hark, the 
 herald angels sing," I felt as if all the light of my life 
 went out, and that the Babe of Bethlehem could never 
 be anything more to me again ; and when the bells 
 rang out their merry peal I hated them, and shrank 
 from their sounds as if they were blows. I lay awake 
 all night. Toward morning, I heard my aunt advise my 
 father to lie down for a little time, and then, in what 
 seemed an hour later, I heard her open his door, and 
 whisper, " Joseph, come ; she is going." I wanted to 
 run in, but my impression is that I fainted, for I was 
 found on the floor when it began to get light. Never, 
 surely, did sadder Christmas break than that which 
 looked on our little house at Farningham, and its 
 motherless children, myself the oldest, and therefore the 
 saddest of them all. I very well remember going to 
 the funeral, four little black-robed figures. I walked 
 with my father next to the coffin, behind us the other 
 three, Rebecca, Hephzibah, and Tom, the last poor little 
 
 41
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 fellow only just able to toddle. Then came my mother's 
 father and mother, and after them a long procession of 
 her brothers and sisters, for they were a large family. 
 There was a great company of mourners, for most of 
 the villagers of both Farningham and Eynsford attended. 
 Somebody put into my trembling hands, after it was all 
 over, this text, " As one whom his mother comforteth, 
 so will I comfort you, and ye shall be comforted " 
 (Isa. Ixvi. 13).
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 GIRLHOOD 
 
 \ 
 
 MY father often said that I never had a girlhood, 
 but grew at once from a child into a woman. 
 
 Certainly the responsibilities of life pressed very 
 heavily upon me from the time of my mother's death. 
 At first the aunt whom we loved, Miss Mary Bowers, 
 who nursed my mother through her last illness, lived 
 with us, and we had a few months of subdued peace and 
 happiness. She was a sweet woman, whom everybody 
 loved, and she was very tender and good to us ; but 
 she herself only lived a little while, I think less than 
 a year, after her sister. 
 
 The death of our aunt made a sad difference to our 
 home, and we children never had womanly care after- 
 wards. A young cousin lived with us for some months, 
 but she was scarcely any older than I. When I think 
 of that time, the formative period of a girl's life, I am 
 filled with thankfulness to the kind Providence who 
 watched over me and my sisters, so young, and so un- 
 protected. My father, though I did not know it, had at 
 the time pressing financial difficulties which worried 
 him, and made things harder for us all. I used to wish 
 
 43
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 he would give us a step-mother, for I felt then, and feel 
 still, that though it may be hard to have an un- 
 sympathetic step-mother, it is yet harder for motherless 
 children to be without a woman to look after them. Of 
 
 ''course I had to leave school and do the "housekeeping" 
 and the work of the house, and I am sure that it was 
 done very badly. But I was only twelve years and a 
 few months old, and the others were younger. We 
 were left very much to ourselves, and I still think it was 
 a bad time for a girl to pass through. 
 
 Reading was my chief consolation, and I had not 
 much time for that. My father gave us two monthly 
 magazines, the "Teacher's Offering," and the "Child's 
 Companion." In one of these was a series of descriptive 
 articles on men who had been poor boys, and risen to 
 be rich and great. Every month I hoped to find the 
 story of some poor ignorant girl, who, beginning life 
 as handicapped as I, had yet been able by her own 
 efforts and the blessing of God upon them to live 
 a life of usefulness, if not of greatness. But I believe 
 there was not a woman in the whole series. I was very 
 bitter and naughty at that time. I did not pray, and 
 
 v was not anxious to be good. 
 
 But there were a few people who loved me, especially 
 a Sunday school teacher ; and it was love that saved 
 me. One Sunday morning, as I sat with our class in 
 the gallery, my head was throbbing and my heart 
 was burning with indignation and anger. My teacher 
 beckoned me to sit next to her, and when the sermon 
 began she gently took my hand in hers. My first 
 impulse was to draw it back, for I was in antagonism 
 
 44
 
 Girlhood 
 
 with the whole world, but there was a look of infinite 
 compassion in her eyes that drew me to her. A very 
 short sermon it seemed that day, and as it proceeded all 
 bitterness died out of my heart. At first compunction, 
 then penitence, then resolve, then peace took possession, 
 of me, and I was quite another child when the service 
 came to an end, for my heart was full of love and joy. 
 This teacher was my namesake, though not related to 
 me. She was Miss Eliza H earn, of Eynsford, and at 
 this time mistress of the British school. I recall her as 
 a little winsome lady, young and pale, and very gentle. 
 She was always good to me, and I longed to go to day- 
 school again that I might be with her. By fits and 
 starts I went, but very irregularly, and my sisters did 
 not fare much better than I. After a year or two we 
 had everything to do, washing, mending, scrubbing, 
 cooking. Poor father, his must have been the hardest 
 lot of all ! 
 
 Miss Hearn did a good deal for me and for the rest 
 of the girls in many ways. Sixty years ago the 
 elementary education of the British schools was carried 
 on by very different methods from those of the Council 
 schools of the present day. The great book of the school 
 was the Bible. The teachers were not obliged to pass 
 government examinations, but they were required to be 
 members of some Christian Church, and to love, revere, 
 and teach the Book of books. The first hour of every 
 morning was devoted to religious instruction. We sang 
 a hymn, and our teacher prayed with us, after which we 
 repeated a prayer ourselves. Then we had a long Bible- 
 lesson, the most interesting and important of the whole 
 
 45
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 day. Miss Hearn gave the lesson herself, and taught it 
 very thoroughly. She must have been an excellent 
 teacher, her lessons were vivid and impressive, and they 
 remained with us. Even now I can remember some of 
 them. Not content with the morning scripture-lesson, 
 the Friday afternoon of each week was given to religious 
 instruction. This was really an evangelistic service for 
 children, and our teacher would speak to us individually 
 and very earnestly, using her influence to urge us to 
 give ourselves to God. Somehow there was another 
 look on her face and there were other tones in her voice 
 when she talked to us about our Saviour. I am sure 
 that her pleading words and Christian life had a great 
 influence on the elder girls. But what would school 
 managers say to such a teacher now ?, 
 
 One of my greatest regrets, even now, is that my 
 attendance at the Eynsford British school was so per- 
 functory and intermittent. It was all the schooling that 
 I had, and it can well be imagined that it has been 
 exceedingly difficult to follow out the various pursuits of 
 my life without any learning worth the name. I am 
 so glad that compulsory education has been secured for 
 the children of these happier days. 
 
 My father was the village postmaster. I helped him 
 to sort the letters, and whenever there was an address 
 in a particularly good handwriting, I copied it and 
 tried to imitate it. I remember being told later that 
 there was no style of my own in my handwriting it 
 was little wonder ! 
 
 My ignorance was a constant burden to me, and I 
 tried many devices to lessen it Fond of reading as I 
 
 46
 
 Girlhood 
 
 was, I did not really enjoy the study of lesson-books, 
 but I strove to make myself learn from them. Through 
 one summer I rose at five o'clock every morning and 
 went out with a book in my hand, but out-of-doors in 
 the dewy meadows, or in the woods, vocal with the song 
 of birds, I really could not study any printed book, and 
 getting up early made me too tired. Our days were in 
 any case long enough. My father was an early riser, 
 and, during the summer months especially, he liked to 
 have us all up. " Come, my dears," he used to say as 
 soon as the clock struck six, "the beautiful sun is 
 shining upon you, and it is between six and seven ! " 
 By this time circumstances were more satisfactory 
 with us. 
 
 My father was peculiarly good in many ways. In 
 our worst days there were certain things that we never 
 had to do. He did not believe that cleaning shoes was 
 a girl's work, and on cold winter mornings we never 
 came downstairs without finding a cheery fire burning 
 in the grate ready for us, and a look of cosy comfort in 
 our living-room. Then, too, excepting in those sad 
 times when we, or others, had vexed him, he was always 
 bright and kind, and full of fun and jokes ; and if we 
 ventured to invite our friends to tea he could always be 
 trusted to be good to them, and to enter into our little 
 social enjoyments as heartily as we did ourselves. We 
 used not to bother him beforehand with any thought of 
 expense or trouble ! We had high times making cakes 
 and tarts, but always when he was out of the way. Yet 
 I never remember an angry word, either at the time or 
 afterward. He took the good things and enjoyed them 
 
 47
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 with the rest of us, and paid the bills in due course. 
 But we knew better than to let these festivities occur too 
 frequently. 
 
 In my desperate pursuit after knowledge I tried 
 hard to burn the midnight tallow (we had no oil in 
 those days), and many a " long eight " have I wasted in 
 the attempt. We were sent to bed before ten, but I was 
 always sleepy, and resorted to one very immoral device 
 to keep myself awake. When making tea for the family 
 in the afternoon, after having infused the leaves, and 
 before filling the pot, I used to pour off a cup of this 
 strong decoction, and surreptitiously take it into my 
 bedroom. I am afraid my father never knew this. I 
 must have had a good digestion, or it would certainly 
 have been ruined by the quantities of cold, strong tea 
 I imbibed late at night. Of course I knew my father 
 would not approve of my studying at midnight, and I 
 \was wretched in doing it. Once my heart sank within 
 me as I listened to a conversation between him and a 
 man who had come into the post-office. 
 
 " Is there any one ill at your house, Mr. Hearn ? " 
 
 " No, thank you ; I am happy to say we are all pretty 
 well." 
 
 " Oh, I am glad to hear it. I was afraid somebody 
 was ill. I had to be out last night looking after a horse, 
 and I saw a light burning in one of your bedroom 
 windows, between twelve and one o'clock." 
 
 " Ah," said my father, " not for long, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes; it was burning when I first went by, and still 
 burning when I came back." 
 
 I wished I could hide somewhere, but knew I must 
 48
 
 Girlhood 
 
 face the matter out. My father looked very judicial. 
 ''Now, Polly, I suppose you heard what Mr. Sharp 
 said." 
 
 "Yes, father; there was a light in our room. I was 
 trying to study. I am ashamed of myself for being 
 ignorant, and you know you cannot spare me to go to 
 school." 
 
 " But what were you doing ? " 
 
 " I was learning some geography." 
 
 " Fetch your books down and show them to me." 
 
 I brought down some cheap copy-books, with badly 
 written pages, full of descriptions of the places that I 
 dreamed about, and never hoped to see. My father 
 said that he did not think such knowledge would ever 
 be of much use to me. He said it was not honourable 
 of me to say " Good night " to him at the door and 
 pretend I was going to bed, and then wait up to read. 
 It was setting the others a bad example, and I was 
 never to do it again. For a long time I did not, and 
 then yielded to temptation once more. But the days 
 made me so sleepy that even the strong tea failed to 
 keep me awake, and frequently I have been so tired/ 
 that I have lain down intending to get a short nap, and 
 have only waked at six the next morning, cold and 
 cramped, with all my clothes on, and the candle burnt 
 down in the socket. One night I awoke in terror, for 
 the room was full of smoke. The candle was broken in 
 the middle, and had bent over, and set the fringe on the 
 dressing-table alight. The flames spread quickly, and 
 already the hangings of the bed were on fire. I saw that 
 it was hopeless for me to cope with it. On the impulse 
 
 49 D
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 of the moment I opened the window, and in a second 
 the whole room seemed to be in flames. In an agony 
 of fear I called my father instantly. He was always a 
 good friend in trouble, and he succeeded in extinguish- 
 ing the fire. I was more dead than alive when I 
 began to undress, and thankful to creep into bed. I 
 remember he kissed me, and all he said was, " I should 
 think that now you have had enough of this, and that 
 in the future you will see it is wisest to obey your 
 father." 
 
 I felt it only too deeply. 
 
 Perhaps it was really as a result of this that my 
 father began to consult with me as to the possibility of 
 my going to school again. He said that he could not 
 afford to keep me without work, but since I was so very 
 anxious to learn, and my sisters were growing older, he 
 thought I might go to school for part of the days. He 
 asked me if I would like to learn to do the shoe-binding. 
 He told me that he paid away a good deal of money 
 every week for having this done, and thought I could do 
 it, if I would like to try. I said I would like it very much. 
 He promised to show me how it was done, and told me 
 that he would pay me, but added that I must pay him 
 back something for my board and lodging, and have 
 ^anything that was over for myself. I soon became 
 rather an expert binder, and was particularly praised 
 for my buttonholes ; but I had hard work with one thing 
 and another, and I did not begin to be rich. Indeed, I 
 was generally in my father's debt, but I went to school 
 again, always taking my work with me to do in the 
 dinner hour, and glad at heart to be with my beloved 
 
 50
 
 Girlhood 
 
 Miss Hearn once more, and to grow a little less ignorant 
 every week. 
 
 About this time, when I was perhaps fourteen, the 
 minister at the Baptist chapel at Eynsford was the Rev. 
 William Reynolds, who was an astronomer, and had a 
 very fine telescope. He lived in the house in which 
 Mr. Rogers had died the next but one to ours and 
 was very neighbourly, appearing to take a most kindly 
 interest in me. I spent many an evening in his study, 
 looking through the telescope, and learning many 
 wonderful things about the sun, moon, and stars, all of 
 which I am sorry to say I have quite forgotten now. I 
 think his difficulty as a teacher of astronomy was that 
 he could not comprehend the extreme ignorance of his 
 pupil, and make allowance for a young mind that was 
 then, and indeed was always, utterly unscientific. But 
 he was very good to me in many ways, lending me 
 books, and talking to me on all sorts of subjects. 
 
 One thing he did which I have ever thought much 
 too bad. 
 
 My sister Rebecca was an exceedingly pretty girl, 
 with the loveliest eyes and the longest lashes I have 
 ever seen. She was very trim and dainty in her dress, 
 and attractive in her manners. It was only natural that 
 she cared a little for the simple pleasures (they were not 
 many) that were possible in our village. The great 
 worldly day of the year was Farningham Fair day, 
 October I5th. We were never allowed to go to the 
 fair. Our part was to watch the people pass by, all 
 dressed in their best attire, and occasionally to hear 
 reports of the shows and dances, and all the gay things 
 
 Si
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 that were done there. Rebecca had a great desire to 
 go. It happened that she had a very pretty new dress 
 and hat, and we knew that she would have looked as 
 sweet as the best. A neighbour who was going to take 
 her own little girls invited Rebecca to join them, so my 
 sister told me about it and asked my advice. I advised 
 her to go by all means. " There can be nothing really 
 wicked in going to a fair," I said, "and I do not know 
 why we should not have good times like other girls." 
 We decided not to say anything about it to our father 
 until afterwards, when we might perhaps confess. Of 
 course, if we had asked permission, and he had said " No," 
 it would have ended the matter ; but we decided that she 
 should run the risk, so we said she had been asked out 
 to tea to a neighbour's, as she had. She went, spent a 
 couple of hours in the field, and came home quite early, 
 her sweet face all aglow with pleasure. We felt that we 
 had done a very bold thing, but we were quite unpre- 
 pared for what followed. Mr. Reynolds had himself 
 given up that afternoon to the fair ; that is, he had 
 adjusted his telescope so as to get the field in full view, 
 and he had picked out all the people whom he knew, 
 especially my sister, whom he watched a long time. 
 He was beforehand with us in regard to our confession, 
 for he told my father, and we were summoned before 
 them. The minister described what he had seen, and 
 " more in sorrow than in anger " the two men talked to 
 us about our great sin. I had the worst of it, as being 
 the eldest of the family who ought to have a better 
 influence over my sister. The only excuse I could offer 
 was that I wanted her to go and enjoy herself, and I 
 
 52
 
 Girlhood 
 
 said I wished to know all about the fair myself. We 
 two poor little offenders stood before our judges, wonder- 
 ing what punishment would be meted out ; but our 
 worst fears fell short of the reality. We were not beaten, 
 nor shut up ; what did occur was that Mr. Reynolds 
 spoke of the thing on Sunday, in his sermon. He men- 
 tioned no names, but our faces burned with shame, and 
 all the congregation knew that " Rebecca Hearn had 
 been to the fair." I think to-day that it was very mean 
 of the minister, and I believe that our father had much 
 more sympathy with us than with him in regard to the 
 affair. 
 
 After my teacher, Miss Hearn, left the neighbour- 
 hood, I was put into the senior class at Sunday school. 
 The teacher was Miss Isabella Rogers, my father's cousin, 
 afterwards Mrs. Creasey, of whom I have already spoken 
 as having taught me to write. It was while I was in 
 her class, and when I was between fourteen and fifteen 
 years of age, that I became possessed by a desire to join 
 the Church. No one, I think, had before that time-- 
 become a member at so early an age, and the 
 minister, though exceedingly pleased with my wish, 
 was a little in doubt. Was I able to give a reason for 
 " the hope that was in me " ? I do not think that I was 
 very well able. I knew so little, and it was not an easy 
 thing to enter a Church that was both Calvinistic and 
 Strict Baptist. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds were kind to 
 me, and my friend and teacher, Miss Rogers, treated 
 me with a tender solicitude, the memory of which warms 
 my heart to-day. After several interviews with the 
 pastor, he told me that he would bring my name before 
 
 53
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 the Church at the next meeting. Two deacons were 
 appointed to see me, and when I heard the name of one, 
 Mr. Cooper, a farmer who lived at Ash, I felt sure that 
 the Church would not accept me, because only a few 
 Sundays before, during the morning service, he had 
 come out of his seat and walked across the gallery on 
 purpose to rebuke me for laughing. However, he seemed 
 to have forgotten- the circumstance, and was surprisingly 
 kind. The difficulty was that I could not remember 
 when I was converted or if I ever had been. There 
 was no special time. I had not been heart-broken for 
 my sins, nor had I passed through any terrible phase of 
 repentance. I had never wept on my knees, nor spent 
 whole nights in prayer, as some of my friends and com- 
 panions had done. All I knew was that I loved and 
 trusted the Saviour, and believed that He was able to 
 save and keep me, and that I wanted, above all else, to 
 serve and please Him. A few things I remembered 
 that had impressed me my mother's life and death, my 
 father's prayers, and the love of two or three Christian 
 women. My impulse and desire were toward religion. 
 I loved the Bible, and the house of God was dear to me. 
 I have often risen an hour earlier in the morning and 
 hurried through a hard day's work that I might go to 
 the prayer-meeting in the evening. Several persons had 
 exercised a most beneficent influence on me. There 
 was one, Mary Thorpe, who worked in the paper-mill, 
 but who was a refined Christian gentlewoman, and who 
 was for some time my Sunday school teacher. She 
 held the class in a square pew of the chapel. It con- 
 sisted of five or six girls, and I think that every one of 
 
 54
 
 Girlhood 
 
 us was loved and prayed into trying to be good by her. 
 But I could name no definite experience or time that 
 marked my passing from carelessness to earnestness. I 
 often wonder what I said that satisfied the deacons, for 
 I suppose they were satisfied, as I was asked to come 
 before the Church at the next meeting. This was a 
 trying ordeal. I sat on a form in the middle of the 
 vestry. The minister and deacons sat in a square place, 
 with their backs to the window, and the other members 
 of the Church were in various seats around. The minister 
 was very gentle, but he put a good many close questions 
 to me. " Why do you think that you are saved ? " 
 " Because I love the Lord Jesus Christ." " What about 
 good works ? " " I have none. It is all of grace." This 
 I knew was the answer he wanted. Certain questions 
 respecting election, predestination, and justification were 
 put to me, but beyond saying that they were scriptural 
 doctrines I do not know what I replied. I wish I did, 
 for my answers must have been very curious. But one 
 thing I knew, and know still, that these Calvinist and 
 Strict Baptists lived, for the most part, very beautiful 
 lives, that they were obviously set apart from the rest of 
 the people, that their Christian joyousness was wonderful, 
 and that I longed to be as they were. Young people 
 who join our Churches to-day find their entrance into 
 the fold less barred than I did. 
 
 I must have been born a Baptist. Not a doubt 
 assailed me as to the proper persons to receive baptism, 
 nor the mode in which it was to be given. " The 
 disciples first believed, then were baptized, then were 
 added to the Church." Mr. Reynolds put one question 
 
 55
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 to me, which I answered glibly enough. " Would you 
 think it unscriptural to take the Lord's Supper with 
 unbaptized believers ? " I thought for a moment, " Who 
 were unbaptized believers ? " At that time our chapel 
 was the only Nonconformist place of worship for many 
 miles around. Later a Wesleyan cause was started at 
 Farningham, but then only the Church of England and 
 the Baptists occupied the ground. I concluded that the 
 question must refer to the Church people, and I am 
 afraid that I had no doubt that they were the believers 
 who were wrong. Certainly I never went to church, if 
 that was what Mr. Reynolds meant, and I expressed the 
 opinion that it was unscriptural to take the Communion 
 with others than Strict Baptists ! I retained that opinion 
 for nearly a whole year afterward, but happily not 
 longer, and always I have loved the Church service. 
 
 The picture of myself as I sat there, a child 
 among the elders, often recurs to me. I was 
 small for my age. I remember that I wore a lilac 
 print dress, and it was, I think, the first dress I 
 had worn with long sleeves. I was very much in 
 earnest. I longed with a great longing that this little 
 company would accept me as a member, and receive 
 me into their midst, and allow me to be baptized, and 
 take the Lord's Supper with them. I felt that I was 
 very unworthy, young, and poor, and of no account, 
 but my one plea and qualification was that I was full 
 of love to Jesus and His people. It was because 
 with all my youthful fervour I wanted to follow my 
 Lord and obey His commands, that I asked to be 
 baptized. I was very nervous and frightened but 
 
 56
 
 Girlhood 
 
 presently the minister asked me to retire for a few 
 minutes, while they consulted about me. I went out into 
 the chapel ground among the trees, for the moments of 
 suspense that followed. I scarcely dared to hope that 
 their decision would be favourable ; but it was my father 
 who called me back, and there was a happy look on his 
 face as he kissed me. 
 
 " Marianne," said Mr. Reynolds, " we are all very 
 much interested in what you have told us, and the 
 friends have decided to receive you into Church fellow- 
 ship after baptism." 
 
 It was almost more than I could bear, and I had to 
 choke back my tears. 
 
 Then the minister talked to me. He said that 
 Christ had kept His promise "Those who seek Me 
 early shall find Me," and that His power would be 
 able to keep me faithful to the end. He reminded 
 me that I had only to live a day at a time, and 
 grace sufficient had been promised. He told me that 
 after drawing attention to myself by a public pro- 
 fession of my faith, my conduct and life would be very 
 closely watched. "We shall watch you narrowly, and 
 prayerfully, to see whether you walk consistently, and 
 adorn the doctrines which you have professed. The 
 world, the enemies of Christ will watch you, and be 
 quick to see if in anything you fall away. And Christ 
 will watch you to see if you bring dishonour on His 
 cause and name. Remember that you have no power 
 in yourself to stand ; your sufficiency must be of God, 
 and to Him we commend you." I felt that it was 
 all very solemn ; but as the meeting concluded the 
 
 57
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 minister and the deacons besought for me the grace 
 that I needed. 
 
 I was baptized on a lovely Sunday evening in June, 
 Miss Rogers standing by me : and I took my first com- 
 munion, with heavenly gladness in my soul, on the 
 following Sunday. 

 
 OUR FAMILY GROUP.
 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 BEGINNINGS 
 
 T" 1 ARLY in the year 1852 the oversight of the Baptist 
 JL-/ Church, at Eynsford, was taken by the Rev. 
 Jonathan Whittemore. Mr. Whittemore was born at 
 Sandy, in Bedfordshire, in the year 1802. At a very 
 early age he resolved to be a minister, and found his 
 recreation in preparing sketches of sermons. The real 
 work of his life began when he entered the publishing 
 business of his relative, Mr. Baynes, of Paternoster Row. 
 Henceforward, publishing and preaching occupied all his 
 powers. Among the first of his literary engagements 
 was that of bringing out the collected works of Dr. J. 
 Owen, a whole library of divinity. Other standard 
 works of general usefulness followed. At the age of 
 eighteen, he was baptized by the Rev. J. Peacock, in 
 Goswell Road, London. A few years later he opened a 
 publishing business of his own at Brighton, and he was 
 one of the first to draw public attention to the claims of 
 the fishermen of our coasts. The first Bethel chapel there 
 was erected through his instrumentality, and he organized 
 Sunday schools for the fishermen's children. He worked 
 among them with all the enthusiasm of youthful devotion, 
 
 59
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 and raised the social and moral condition of many 
 families. Of course, his efforts so joyfully put forth 
 for others re-acted upon his own life. His Brighton 
 experiences were the best possible preparation for his 
 future career. He soon became known as an occasional 
 preacher of considerable power, and in the year 1831 he 
 was unanimously invited to become the minister of the 
 Baptist church at Rushden, in Northamptonshire. There 
 he remained twenty years as a village pastor ; and the 
 conditions ol this ministry were such as to set his 
 thoughts at leisure and allow him to take an outlook 
 over the world. His keen desire to publish grew within 
 him apace, and he brought out several publications, 
 magazines, and books. He was very dissatisfied with 
 certain defects in the methods of worship among Dis- 
 senters, and he originated several important publications, 
 notably the " Standard Tune-book," which introduced 
 Gregorian music into our churches. It was, too, during 
 Mr. Whittemore's residence in Rushden that The Baptist 
 Messenger was started. He derived the greatest pos- 
 sible pleasure from his publishing exploits, but very 
 little financial satisfaction ; indeed, pecuniary profit was 
 never a first consideration with him. In some of his 
 efforts he was associated with Mr. Thomas Phillips, 
 printer and bookseller, of Northampton. I have received 
 a letter which throws an amusing light upon this time. 
 My correspondent says : 
 
 " I was apprenticed to the late Mr. Thomas Phillips ; when 
 I had been with him about two years he hired me out to 
 several printers in other parts of the county, and at about the 
 end of 1848 I went to Rushden to set up the letter-press for a 
 
 60
 
 Beginnings 
 
 tune-book which Mr. Whittemore was bringing out, in con- 
 junction with Mr. Alpheus Andrews. These two were amongst 
 the pioneers of printing music from electro-type plates, and 
 like many other pioneers they lost heavily. Mr. Whittemore 
 was sued, and judgment was given against him. He could not 
 pay, and was committed to Northampton county gaol ; there he 
 wrote a pamphlet entitled ' The judgment brought to the test of 
 Law, Policy, and Fact.' I used to take the proofs to the prison, 
 and after Mr. Whittemore had read them, I used to play at 
 marbles with him." 
 
 Notwithstanding his financial failures, his life and 
 work at Rushden were very highly valued. He was 
 known to be a man of high integrity and of a warm and 
 generous spirit. He was a great Temperance leader, 
 and was characterized by much enthusiasm and courage. 
 
 Mr. Whittemore's arrival at Eynsford introduced a 
 new interest into the church life there. His ministerial 
 abilities might have found a far larger sphere, but the 
 lanes and fields and hop-gardens of this lovely part of 
 Kent attracted him, and especially the fact that Eynsford 
 is only twenty miles from London, where he spent the 
 middle of most weeks. His talk about books and news- 
 papers and publishing matters generally quickened in 
 the minds of several young people a latent desire to 
 write. I had already written rhymes for friends' birth- 
 days, and other local happenings. When, through any 
 accident, these fell into Mr. Whittemore's hands, I always 
 had a bad time. He would make me listen while he 
 read them to me, laying strong emphasis on their faults 
 and weaknesses, and with most aggravating scorn in his 
 voice. I kept on, however, in spite of his adverse opinion, 
 
 61
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 only being careful to pledge my friends to secrecy. A 
 little girl, connected with our family, died, and I wrote 
 some verses and sent to the child's mother, a lady of 
 fine intellectual ability. She wrote a short account of 
 her daughter, and put my verses in it. Mr. Whittemore 
 read this account during his funeral sermon. There 
 was no name attached to the verses, and he, believing 
 them to have been written by the lady herself, said, 
 before reading them, " I do not know the author of 
 these lines, but they are very beautiful." I was quietly 
 sitting in our pew at the back of the chapel, with my 
 father, and I had a moment of keen joy, not unmixed 
 with pride, for I knew that nothing would have induced 
 him to speak thus had he known the words were mine. 
 But I owe everything to Mr. Whittemore's criticisms of 
 my first efforts, which made me more painstaking. ' It 
 was soon after this that I was ambitious enough to send 
 twelve verses to a magazine, called, I think, The Gospel 
 Magazine. The title was " Music in Heaven." Of course, 
 in those early days I knew all about that subject ! The 
 magazine appeared every month, and after the lapse of 
 twelve my poem was printed, and occupied exactly 
 a page. 
 
 In the same year that Mr. Whittemore came to 
 Eynsford, 1852, I went to Bristol. A friend, Miss 
 Bamford, who had been the mistress of the British 
 school at Eynsford, removed to the Western City, and 
 I became her assistant in the Durdham Down school. 
 This change was a very interesting and pleasant one to 
 me. All my life had been spent in villages, and this 
 delightful old city appealed to my imagination, while 
 
 62
 
 Beginnings 
 
 the larger life, which I enjoyed there, was a wonderful 
 education. Its quays and bridges, its narrow streets/ 
 and old houses, its cathedral and old churches, its ships 
 and boats and rivers were a constant source of fascina- 
 tion to me. In imagination, I watched the ships go out 
 over the great sea, and arrive at their destinations in 
 foreign countries. I had never seen a ship before, or a 
 great river, and the sea was at that time only a dream. 
 Every walk, therefore, had some new wonder to reveal 
 to me, of life and activity. A walk down the " Steps " 
 and through the streets was a holiday. It seemed to 
 me that there was a great difference between the men of 
 Kent and the Bristol men, and it was always a treat to 
 talk with the West Country people. Indeed, I fell in 
 love with them from the first, a love which has lasted 
 for the rest of my life. Everybody I met seemed to 
 show me some kindness. Miss Bamford and I were 
 invited to a teachers' picnic. It was held in the beautiful 
 woods by the side of the picturesque Severn, and the 
 lofty hills and rich scenery filled my heart with gladness. 
 The teachers, too, were all most kind people. Miss 
 Matilda Lewis was especially good to the plainly dressed, 
 timid little stranger from Kent, and we there commenced 
 a friendship which has remained unbroken for more than 
 fifty years. She, too, was a Baptist, and sang in the 
 choir of Counterslip church, and she advised me to 
 attend the services there, which I did, listening when 
 possible to the Grand Old Man, called " Father Winter." 
 Sometimes, on very wet or very hot Sundays, I stopped 
 half-way at Highbury chapel, where the Rev. David 
 Thomas was minister, and though I cannot, at this 
 
 63
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 time, remember any of the sermons, I can very distinctly 
 recall the impression made by them. It always seemed 
 to me that there I was among a sacred aristocracy of 
 Nonconformists. Sometimes I attended the cathedral, 
 and I well remember being present there at a Memorial 
 Service on the day of the funeral of the Duke of 
 Wellington. For the first time I heard the Dead 
 March in Saul, which affected me greatly. The place, 
 of course, was crowded, but being small and resolute, 
 I managed to push my way up to the very front, and 
 I have never forgotten that I sat among the white-robed 
 singers in the choir, one of whom made room for me 
 just inside one of the stalls, and allowed me to look 
 over his book. I felt very proud, but then I was only 
 seventeen ! The way in which I got out of the crowd 
 also remains in my memory. I suppose I felt faint and 
 looked white, for a gentleman took me up and carried 
 me through as the crowd made way for us, and I found 
 myself out in the cool air in a very short time. 
 
 I was quite happy in my work at Bristol. The Durd- 
 ham Down school was not a large one ; the managers 
 were chiefly members of the Society of Friends, and 
 they were very good to me. One lady, Miss Hallam, 
 came to the school the most frequently. Another lady 
 was Mrs. Birt, the widow of a missionary who had died 
 on his way to India, where he had hoped to labour. His 
 wife went on and tried to do the work which he was 
 prevented from doing, but after a few years, quite broken 
 in health, she had to return. This sweet gentlewoman 
 spoke little of her sorrows, but smiled away those of 
 others, Through these kind friends some pleasant 
 
 64
 
 Beginnings 
 
 incidents occurred to me. They invited me to meet 
 Mary Carpenter, one of the finest women of our genera- 
 tion, whose work at Red Lodge on behalf of the perish- 
 ing and dangerous classes, and especially for the children, 
 was pioneer work which has since been followed in all 
 towns and cities. Also at Miss Hallam's house I 
 met Clara Lucas Balfour, and was taken to hear her 
 lecture. 
 
 I had the great happiness of becoming personally 
 acquainted with that hero of faith, George Muller, and 
 his wonderful work for the orphans. His own story of 
 his life, published in 1837, was given to me. It is a 
 spiritual romance. At the time that it was written the 
 first orphan-houses were being established. He asked 
 for a thousand pounds before his book was published, 
 but he said not a word to any individual ; he simply 
 asked God. Money came to him from all quarters, 
 both in large sums and small. It came anonymously 
 sometimes, but never unexpectedly. When it came, 
 whether in coin, jewels, or goods, the receiver was 
 always grateful, but not surprised. As it was in the 
 beginning, so it was always in the lives of Mr. Muller 
 and his helper, Mr. Craik. The orphans had become a 
 multitude in number when I was at Bristol, and there 
 was always some fascinating story to hear of how a 
 large consignment of boots and shoes had arrived just 
 in the nick of time, or, when the balance was reduced to 
 a shilling perhaps hundreds of pounds came by the 
 next post. It was a very happy household, though so 
 large a one, and it was an object-lesson to the world. 
 The same spirit of trust characterized the teachers as 
 
 65 E
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 the head of the house, and I remember delightful talks 
 I used to have with them. They had no fixed salaries, 
 and were never certain whether or not quarter-day would 
 bring them any money, but they never had the least 
 anxiety, and proved that the path of faith meant the 
 way of peace. I often heard Mr. Muller preach and 
 pray, and was influenced by both. He was a quiet, 
 unassuming, unpretentious man, whom God made great 
 enough for magnificent service, through simple, child- 
 like trust. 
 
 / . I enjoyed teaching in the Durdham Down school 
 where I had charge of the highest class of girls. I knew 
 very little, but was able to impart to them every scrap 
 of information I possessed. I could not have passed an 
 examination, but in those happy days it was not required 
 of me, and I had spent a few weeks at the Home and 
 Colonial College on my way down. The girls were good 
 and teachable, and we were all interested together, for 
 I learned the lessons they learned, and was like one of 
 
 x them. The time passed all too quickly, for it was full 
 of life and interest. 
 
 When I had been at Bristol a year I had a very sad 
 letter from my father, telling me that my sister Rebecca, 
 next to me in age, was ill, and the doctor had pro- 
 nounced it to be consumption. My sister was a lovely 
 girl, and she looked like a strong and completely healthy 
 one. It did not seem possible that she could be really 
 seriously ill. But my father's letter was very grave, and 
 he told me that I must come home as soon as I could 
 be released from school. So I gave a month's notice, 
 and at the end of the time, with a heavy heart, I said 
 
 66
 
 Beginnings 
 
 good-bye to Bristol, and as I then thought, to all my 
 best prospects in life. 
 
 I was glad to be at home again, and went with many 
 resolves to be a better housekeeper than before I left 
 home. I was a year older, with a year's experience, 
 and was able to bring to my domestic work an increase 
 of knowledge and patience. I had a loving welcome 
 home, especially from my dear sister. It was easy to 
 see, since the memory of my mother's illness remained 
 with me, that Rebecca was following her. The mischief 
 began at a midnight meeting, which she had walked 
 through snow to attend, and to pray the old year out 
 and the new year in. She dated her conversion from 
 this meeting, which was therefore the beginning of a 
 new life, as well as the beginning of the end. " Surely 
 something can be done which will prolong her life," I 
 said to the doctor. " Well, if you can take her away to 
 the south of France," the doctor replied, "it is possible 
 that she might live a few years instead of a few months." 
 Of course that was utterly impossible, and so we had . 
 that very common experience of the poor. We watched' 
 our dear one get worse and weaker day by day, only 
 putting off the end as far as we were able. But those 
 months have always seemed to me a most sacred time. 
 She was so bright and patient, and even happy. She 
 had a very blessed realization of the Presence of Christ 
 with her all the time. She was greatly beloved, and 
 our little home became often a sanctuary of prayer and 
 praise. When she passed away to the heaven that was 
 so real to her, it seemed to be wonderfully near to us 
 also, 
 
 67
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 During my sister's illness, when sitting with her in 
 the garden, or watching by her bed at night, my thoughts 
 had frequently set themselves into verse, and after her 
 death I occasionally sent copies to magazines, saying 
 nothing to anybody about them, and usually signing 
 them "Echo." It struck me as something to be 
 grateful for then, and does so still, that I never had one 
 returned to me. It was two or three years after my 
 " Music in Heaven " had appeared in the magazine that 
 I sent a poem of ninety lines to The Christian Cabinet, a 
 religious paper, which was then in circulation, and was 
 afterwards incorporated with The Christian World. The 
 title of the poem was " Let us Pray," and was inserted 
 in the next number. Then Mr. Whittemore said that 
 he must have a serious talk with me. 
 
 He began by asking me why I had not submitted 
 the verses to him, since I knew of The Baptist Messenger 
 which he edited. I replied that, because he had always 
 ridiculed my efforts, I had not supposed that he would 
 care to have anything I might write, and so had sent 
 this poem to one who did not know me. He told me 
 it was very cowardly to shrink from criticism, which 
 was intended to do me nothing but good. I answered 
 that I knew quite well that was true, but that I found 
 his criticisms all the harder to bear because he was so 
 sarcastic. If, however, he wished to have some con- 
 tributions from me, I should be only too glad to hand 
 them over. He told me of a new tune-book which he 
 was bringing out, and invited me to try to write hymns 
 for some of the new tunes, and presently he took me 
 into confidence in regard to quite a number of magazines 
 
 68
 
 Beginnings 
 
 and journals which he was projecting. Eventually he 
 talked to me of what was the greatest hope of his life 
 a weekly religious paper, with very high aims, in which 
 some of the leading wealthy Nonconformists of the time 
 would interest themselves, and in which he thought I 
 might help him. 
 
 These years at home were very joyous ones. Happily 
 I had another sister, Hephzibah, who loved and helped 
 me. She was more sensible and domesticated than I. 
 Indeed, she was remarkably gifted in all the sweet 
 mysteries of household ways, for certainly she had no 
 one to teach her, since she was only a child of six when 
 our mother died. She cared for me with almost more x 
 than a sister's love, and gave me time to write and 
 study. Our brother Tom was a merry boy, and we/ 
 three contrived to get all the pleasure possible out of 
 life at this juncture, with our father to help us. 
 
 Most of our social life centred in the chapel. On my 
 return from Bristol, when I offered my services to the 
 superintendent to take a class in the school, he told me 
 that the girls of the Bible class, being without a teacher, 
 had asked that I would take it. I was fairly nonplussed/ 
 by this suggestion, and said that I could not do it, for I 
 was no older than the other girls, and certainly knew no 
 more than they. He said that I could study the lesson 
 during the week, and he hoped I would try. The girls 
 themselves came to see me, and declared that they 
 would not leave until they had persuaded me. So I 
 yielded, and promised to do my best. We had a good 
 many very happy Sunday afternoons. We were a class 
 without a teacher, but everybody contributed something, 
 
 69
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 and whether or not we learnt much, we carried away 
 from that corner pew many pleasant memories. I have 
 still in my possession, and indeed not many days pass 
 without my using it, a copy of Cruden's Concordance 
 with which the girls presented me, and with my name 
 written in it by Mr. Henry Rogers, the superintendent 
 of the Sunday school. It has been worth its weight in 
 gold to me. The inscription bears date December 17, 
 1857. 
 
 What glorious times we had, attending every service 
 for which the chapel was opened ! Our Sunday walks 
 to and fro were delightful. I always felt we were like 
 the glad tribes going up to Jerusalem. There would be a 
 long line of us, ten or a dozen young people of both sexes, 
 marching along and singing as we went, so that the mile 
 between the two villages seemed as nothing. We would 
 sing "All hail the power of Jesus' Name," to Miles 
 Lane, or " Sweet is the work, my God, my King," to 
 Montgomery, a capital tune to march to, though there 
 was one better still which we always sang when the 
 moon shone or the stars were unusually bright, " The 
 spacious firmament on high." I never hear this sung 
 now without wanting to keep time with my feet, as I 
 did in those good old days. I often wonder whether 
 the village chapels can be as much to those who worship 
 in them to-day as they were to us. 
 
 I had some exceedingly kind friends and com- 
 panions at this time, in better circumstances and better 
 educated than I, whom it was a great joy to be with. I 
 visited at their houses, they called for me to take walks 
 with them, and they lent me books. But Mr. Whittemore 
 
 70
 
 Beginnings 
 
 did most for me in this way. One day he brought me a 
 copy of " Jane Eyre." " Here is a book, my girl," he 
 said, " that is thrilling everybody. If you can write like 
 this, you will do something." Alas ! I only wished I 
 could, and have been wishing it ever since. I had no 
 sleep that night, and it haunted me for many nights 
 afterwards. I had been taught that it was wicked to 
 read novels, and this one marked my departure from 
 that old limitation. Mr. Whittemore also gave me my 
 first and only copy of " Shakespeare," writing in it my 
 name and the words, "From her affectionate pastor." 
 A great deal of trouble he had in consequence. That a 
 minister should give a young member of his church " a 
 volume of plays," seemed to some of the old members 
 an outrageous thing. One anxious lady begged me to 
 let her burn it, as she was sure it was an offence in the 
 sight of God, and several who heard of it advised me 
 not to read it ; but of course it brought me into a new 
 world, and rilled me with wonder and admiration. One 
 thing surprised me very much ; it was to find some 
 expressions which I had quite thought were only to be 
 found in the Bible ! Naturally I place a very high value 
 on that copy of " Shakespeare." 
 
 So I was living and learning and loving, until my 
 happy teens were left behind. I had a grand time on 
 my twenty-first birthday. How it was managed I do 
 not know, but we were a party of twenty-one to tea, in 
 our little house, which could never have been intended 
 to hold more than four. It was finely decorated for the 
 occasion. Over the fireplace in the small parlour, a friend, 
 Thomas Sharwood, to whom my sister was afterwards 
 
 71
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 married, had put up, in letters made of leaves and 
 berries, the motto, " God bless dear Polly." I had, 
 indeed, a happy coming-of-age. 
 
 Rather often at this time, and previously, as I started 
 on Sunday morning for school and chapel, I was called 
 back to receive a reminder, which no doubt I needed : 
 
 " Polly ! " 
 
 " Yes, father." 
 
 " Listen a moment 
 
 " ' Whate'er your parts or virtues be, 
 Oh, cultivate humility ; 
 Be unobtrusive, meek, retired, 
 Seek to be useful, not admired.' M
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE CHRISTIAN WORLD 
 
 '"THHE birth of a new journal is an occurrence of fat 
 J- less importance now than it was fifty years ago, 
 because to-day fresh papers are springing up in all 
 directions. But when The Christian World first made 
 its appearance it had a wide field to itself, and no com- 
 petitors. A religious newspaper was needed at that time 
 almost more than anything beside, and especially a 
 paper which, while respecting the Church of England, 
 came to the support of all denominations alike. Between 
 these denominations there was almost no union. Differ- 
 ences were acute, and stood for principles, so that 
 friendships were frequently denounced as infidelities and 
 unfaithfulness. Most of the various sects that were 
 strong enough had their own publications, in which 
 were chronicled their doings and sayings. It was only 
 when The Christian World became the chronicle of the 
 Churches that men and women began to understand 
 each other. A very fighting world it was over which 
 it raised the flag of truce. And the gracious ideal of 
 brotherhood in its present sense had only appealed to 
 the few as against the many. This was one of the great 
 needs of the day which the paper was born to meet 
 
 73
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 Was it strange that one of the pioneers in this crusade 
 of toleration was the minister of a church founded on 
 the doctrines of predestination and election, whose 
 members believed there were few who should be saved, 
 and who refused the Lord's Supper to all believers who 
 had not been immersed? I think not. Extremes pro- 
 voke revolt 
 
 To my own mind the greatest and most far-reaching 
 feature in The Christian World was the "Chronicle of 
 the Churches," which was from the first arranged for. 
 It taught people to know and understand each other 
 better, and therefore to look with more love than 
 suspicion upon the character and doings of the various 
 denominations. Its motto was splendidly chosen : " In 
 things essential, unity ; in things doubtful, liberty ; in 
 all things, charity." 
 
 Before its appearance, it was announced as a " Com- 
 panion for Leisure Hours, A Christian Treasury, and 
 Readings for Sundays at Home, and as a Record of 
 Passing Events." It was no small advantage that in 
 those times when newspapers were dear, and often diffi- 
 cult for country people to procure, The Christian World 
 would give all the news of the week. It was certain 
 beforehand that for this reason, if for no other, it would 
 be sincerely welcomed in the villages and smaller towns. 
 
 In the great centres of religious thought, where the 
 minds of men were awakening to new ideas, the promises 
 of the paper were very good news indeed, although no 
 prophet was sufficiently gifted to foresee future develop- 
 ments, or to dream of the power for righteousness and 
 truth to which the journal was destined. 
 
 74
 
 u -a 
 
 u 2 
 t I
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 On Good Friday, 1857, a party of young people, of)> 
 whom I was one, set out to walk from Farningham to 
 Foots Cray, a distance of five miles, to attend the annual 
 meeting of the West Kent Sunday School Union. As 
 we passed the road leading to Dartford, our nearest rail- 
 way station, the omnibus drove by. Mr. Whittemore 
 was seated on the top, and he held up a little roll of 
 paper for me to see, and then threw it down. One of 
 the young men caught it, and handed it to me. It was 
 the first number of The Christian World. I folded it 
 into a small compass not a difficult feat, for it was a 
 very small paper and put it away in my pocket, feeling 
 quite shy and nervous. There it remained unopened for 
 several hours, though I was longing to know whether 
 there was really any bit of my writing in it. After a x 
 time, in the secluded part of a lane, I opened it, and 
 saw for the first time the name " Marianne Farningham " 
 in print. It was by Mr. Whittemore's advice that I 
 adopted the name of my birthplace. I had chosen 
 "Echo," which he did not like, and I had not the 
 courage to use my own surname, for it seemed pre- 
 sumptuous, as I was only a poor village girl. Mr. 
 Whittemore thought Marianne Farningham was a well- 
 sounding name. I think so, too. Above the name in 
 this first number of The Christian World, bearing date 
 April 9, 1857, there were three inches of verse. This is 
 a copy 
 
 "LORD, SAVE US: WE PERISH. 
 
 " Our fragile barks are tossed on life's rough ocean, 
 
 The tempest draweth near, 
 And we are driven about in wild commotion, 
 And well-nigh faint with fear. 
 
 75
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 "Above our head the dense black cloud is lowering, 
 
 The vivid lightnings flash, 
 The heaving billows are around us roaring, 
 The mighty thunders crash. 
 
 "Far from our home, and all we love and cherish, 
 
 Our way we cannot see ; 
 All, all is dark Lord, save us or we perish, 
 Our eyes are turned to Thee. 
 
 " Abide with us while yet the tempest rages, 
 
 And shield us from the strife ; 
 Hide us within Thy cleft, O ' Rock of Ages,' 
 And still preserve our life. 
 
 " Speak to the waters : even they obey Thee, 
 
 Thou holdest them in Thy hand j 
 Hasten our voyage o'er the deep, we pray Thee, 
 And bring us safe to land. 
 
 " Receive us at the blissful port of Heaven, 
 
 The shore of cloudless peace, 
 And our hearts' praises shall to Thee be given, 
 In songs that never cease." 
 
 MARIANNE FARNINGHAM. 
 Darenth Vale, March 26th. 
 
 The first number of The Christian World had a very 
 modest appearance. It thus introduced itself to the 
 public in 
 
 "A WORD TO OUR READERS. 
 
 " The proprietors of this journal believe that the progress 
 of popular education cannot be more effectually advanced than 
 by a cheap and thoroughly healthy literature, such as that 
 which it is their purpose to supply. They rejoice to know that 
 of late years numerous efforts, more or less successful, have 
 been made by Christian philanthropists to create reading for 
 the people of so attractive a nature, and at so low a price, as 
 
 76
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 to drive out of the market much debasing rubbish produced by 
 a ribald press. But, notwithstanding all that has yet been done, 
 there is still unhappily abundance of room, and great necessity 
 for augmented exertions in the same good cause ; and we 
 appeal, therefore, to all true friends of the people especially 
 to those who are ever foremost in labours of this sort, ministers 
 of the Gospel, Sunday school teachers, and Church members 
 generally to aid us in establishing a cheap family newspaper 
 conducted on pure principles, and pervaded by a Catholic 
 spirit." 
 
 Intimation was given of the future standpoint and 
 policy of the journal. In politics it would advocate 
 Reform, Retrenchment, and Peace. It would be the 
 friend of Progress, but the foe of Revolution. In 
 Religion it would be decidedly evangelical, but wholly 
 unsectarian. 
 
 Its appearance was timely. A general election was 
 just over, and the leading article had for its subject 
 Lord Palmerston's Cabinet. It contained two sermons, 
 and instalments of two serial stories. The sermons 
 were by the late Rev. W. Jay, of Bath, and the coming 
 man, Charles Haddon Spurgeon. The " Chronicle of the 
 Churches " was a feature in this first number, as it has 
 always been ; and there was an article which contained 
 a warning for young men who smoke ! 
 
 There was at this time no Sunday school journal in 
 existence, but the founder of TJie Christian World was 
 an earnest Sunday school man, and one department 
 was allotted to Sunday schools, under the heading of 
 the "Children's Treasury." Addresses, model lessons, 
 and reports of anniversaries were included. A few 
 
 77
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 weeks after the commencement of The Christian World 
 the first great Sunday School Convention was held in 
 Manchester, and the journal drew special attention to 
 this. 
 
 The year 1857 was a very notable one in many 
 respects. In the religious world Mr. Spurgeon was 
 drawing immense crowds, and New Park Street chapel, 
 the scene of his first pastorate, had become far too small 
 for the congregations. Mr. Spurgeon had been urged 
 to make the experiment of preaching in Surrey Gardens 
 Music Hall. It was a new idea, and many people did 
 not approve of it, but there was a very earnest desire at 
 this time, and before mission halls had been erected, to 
 hold special services for the people. Exeter Hall was 
 used for the purpose. But these services were stopped 
 on a point of ecclesiastical order by the incumbent 
 of the parish in which Exeter Hall was situated. 
 Mr. Spurgeon and his congregation migrated to the 
 Surrey Music Hall, and in the twentieth number of 
 The Christian World dated August 21, 1857, there is 
 an account of a trip to Rosherville, taken by Mr. 
 Spurgeon and seven hundred members of his congre- 
 gation. They travelled in steamboats, and found the 
 gardens " a place to spend a happy day." 
 
 Many subjects claimed the notice of the writers in 
 the early numbers of The Christian World. The year 
 of its commencement was that of the Conference of 
 the Evangelical Alliance at Berlin. It was also the 
 year of the first Handel Festival at the Crystal Palace. 
 This, too, was the year of the Indian Mutiny and 
 
 78
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 Massacre of Missionaries, and October 7 was kept as 
 a Day of Humiliation. In one of the last numbers 
 for the year there was an article on the dowry of the 
 Princess Royal, who was to be married early the next 
 year. It had been proposed that the nation should give 
 her ^"40,000 as a marriage portion, and an annuity of 
 8000 a year for life. The Christian World, in accord- 
 ance with its promised advocacy of retrenchment, de- 
 murred to this, but the article had a very good-natured 
 conclusion : " Nevertheless, as we are a well-to-do 
 people, and rather proud of our means, we should not 
 have liked the first-born of our Royal House to go 
 forth from her people and country without taking with 
 her a substantial token of our love for her mother, and 
 gratitude to God that He has given us such a monarch, 
 and made our ways so prosperous." 
 
 Mr. Whittemore was exceedingly gratified at the 
 reception given by the churches of all denominations 
 to the new journal. At once it was a power and a 
 force for righteousness, although some people were 
 afraid of it even from the first. Quite a fierce con- 
 troversy raged over the question whether it would prove 
 a Sabbath breaker. It would be the thin end of the 
 wedge, many Sunday school teachers thought, if it were 
 read on Sunday in the homes of the people! Mr. 
 Whittemore hoped and intended that it should be, and 
 its religious character was strictly maintained. All the 
 same, many parents and grandparents insisted upon its 
 being rigorously put away with most other things that 
 were pleasant on Saturday nights. It would be i 
 
 79
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 resting, if we could possibly discover how many people 
 keep it especially for Sunday reading now. 
 
 When Mr. Whittemore came back to Eynsford from 
 London at the end of every week, there was always 
 something to tell about The Christian World. He was 
 fortunate in his staff, and his friends. I remember his 
 talking to me about Mr. James Clarke, how charmed 
 he was with him, and how convinced of his rare 
 capacity. I little guessed then that The Christian World 
 would really be made and upheld by Mr. Clarke, nor 
 how deeply indebted I was to become to him personally 
 in regard to the work of my life. Mr. Whittemore was 
 quite exuberant one day when he told me that he had 
 secured Emma Jane Worboise as a writer of stories for 
 The Christian World. " She is a cultured lady," he 
 said, " with wide experience of religious life and thought, 
 and she is just at the right age at her very best." I 
 asked him what was the age at which a woman was at 
 her best. He said, " About forty," adding, " You are 
 not there yet." 
 
 I was interested, too, in the men who were writing 
 leaders and articles for The Christian World. The best 
 Nonconformist talent of the day was pressed into its 
 service. Dr. Peter Bayne contributed very thoughtful 
 papers for many years. Mr. Ritchie, " Christopher 
 Crayon," came upon the scene only a little later. 
 
 When The Christian World was about eighteen 
 months old, Mr. Whittemore asked me to write some 
 prose pieces. At that time an American writer, who 
 signed herself " Fanny Fern," had become very popular, 
 
 80
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 and he thought he would like something of the same 
 kind for The Christian World. I therefore contributed 
 every week, as well as the verses, a short prose sketch 
 under the general heading of " Echoes from the Valley." 
 It was at this time that I was very much astonished 
 to find that I was to be paid for my work. The rate 
 was not munificent ; but it was a good beginning, and 
 very soon was doubled. Farningham is in the Darent 
 Valley, and this fact produced all sorts of pleasant 
 associations and fancies in my mind, which caused me 
 to date all that I did for some years from " Darenth 
 Vale." I append one of the " Echoes from the Valley " 
 to show the sort of thing which I wrote in my early 
 days : 
 
 " VERY COLD. 
 
 " Very cold ! Snow, snow, snow, morning, noon and 
 night ! Wrap we never so carefully, walk we never so rapidly, 
 to the fire press we never so closely, under hats and into 
 bonnets, and round about cloaks, and through crevices, silently 
 creeps the icy chill. 
 
 " Very cold ! In some houses there is no ruddy glow of 
 wood or coal, lighting the desolate hearthstone. At Coventry 
 and Nuneaton, what heart-rending tales could the poor ribbon- 
 weavers tell ! What shrinking from the cold hand of death, 
 the iron grasp of despair ! 
 
 " Very cold ! Some rich men button up their pockets, fold 
 their arms over their hearts (if they have any) and ' pass by on 
 the other side,' staying not to stifle the wail of the suffering. 
 Some, wrapped in the light mantle of selfishness, speak no word 
 of healing, give no smile of light and love. 
 
 81 F
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 " Very cold ! And yet there is a great deal of warmth. 
 Merrily ring the bells. Cheerily sound the songs of mirth 
 under many a bright roof. Gatherings there are of brothers 
 and sisters and friends long absent, the grasp of whose hand is 
 warm and true as if the midsummer sun shone. Ah, hearts are 
 not chilled by the winter's frost ! Love is ever blooming fresh 
 and beautiful. Bless God there is warmth still ! 
 
 " Very cold ? Ah ! but some kindly hands are feeding the 
 hungry ones in our loved country. Fires are lighted by 
 Charity's delicate and strong hand, and many a widow's heart 
 sings for joy. There are dinners for the old, dinners for the 
 young everybody wishing everybody ' A happy New Year.' 
 
 " Very cold ? Ah ! but God has made everything beautiful 
 in its time. The softly falling snow, the icicles beautifying the 
 cottage roof, the trees clothed in white, the hedgerows covered 
 with purity. Truly our Father has made everything beautiful ! 
 
 " Very cold ! No, not very, while our hearts turn upward 
 in love to our ever-loving Friend." 
 
 MARIANNE FARNINGHAM. 
 
 Darenth Vale. 
 
 In 1859 Mr. Whittemore thought I had written 
 enough little sets of verses to make a book, and advised 
 me to collect and arrange them for publication. Mr. 
 Whittemore's wife was very kindly interested in this. I 
 loved Mrs. Whittemore. Often in those days, when I 
 found it so bitter to be motherless, she comforted me 
 with almost a mother's love, and it gratified me to know 
 that she thought my little things were worth putting 
 into a volume. In 1860, "Lays and Lyrics of the Blessed 
 Life," with a portrait of the author, was published by 
 Benjamin Lowe, 31, Paternoster Row, and it was at once 
 
 82
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 received by a kindly public with surprising appreciation. 
 Many editions of it have since been published. Some 
 old people still pronounce it the best of my books. 
 
 On November 9, 1860, The Christian World was put 
 into mourning for the death of the editor and proprietor, 
 the Rev. Jonathan Whittemore. The end was very 
 sudden, though not altogether unexpected by him. He 
 had said several times, "I shall die in six months." 
 There were many symptoms of paralysis. He would stop 
 suddenly, and say, "There it is, creeping over me, like so 
 many pointed instruments." But he continued his work. 
 His last sermon was from the text " There will be weep- 
 ing." It was very impressive and solemn. He seemed 
 to feel himself near to eternity, and he tried to com- 
 municate the same feeling to his hearers. He had a 
 singular impression that his work was done, and on the 
 Monday he said that he would probably have to resign 
 his charge. When the fatal stroke seized him, he said, " It 
 has come now. I shall not leave this house again alive." 
 He was buried in Abney Park cemetery. The funeral 
 sermon at Eynsford was preached by the Rev. W. A. 
 Blake, of Shouldham Street chapel, a personal friend of 
 Mr. Whittemore's. His death was felt to be a great 
 loss in very large circles. 
 
 The Christian World, after an appreciation, had this 
 notice 
 
 " Four years ago the idea of the establishment of The 
 Christian World took complete possession of his nature. The 
 writer of these lines was the first person he consulted upon 
 the subject, who dissuaded him from what then seemed a 
 
 83
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 hazardous undertaking ; but he made light of all the suggested 
 obstacles, and urged the immense good that would be sure to 
 flow from a widely circulated weekly penny periodical of this 
 kind, conducted on catholic principles, and having constantly 
 in view the highest good of humanity. The result has proved 
 the soundness of his judgment, and was to him a source of 
 deep satisfaction. From its beginning, The Christian World 
 has made continuous progress, and never before had so extensive 
 a sale as at the present moment ; and it may be desirable to 
 state, for the information of its readers, who will, one and all, 
 doubtless derive consolation from the fact that the paper will 
 continue under the editorial management of those who have 
 hitherto assisted in conducting it." 
 
 After Mr. Whittemore's death his periodicals and his 
 estate passed to his widow with heavy responsibilities. 
 Mr. Whittemore did not live long enough to see the 
 great success of his ventures. But Mrs. Whittemore 
 had a good friend in Mr. James Clarke, who worked 
 very faithfully in her interests. The burden left was a 
 great one. The Christian World and The Sunday School 
 Times were bound to succeed in the long run, but in the 
 meantime much skill and forethought were required in 
 the conductorship. In the year after Mr. Whittemore's 
 death, 1861, the Paper Tax was repealed. Mrs. Whitte- 
 more was greatly delighted. " At last," she said, " we 
 may look for a profit, and my anxiety will be lessened." 
 But Mr. Clarke went to see her, and make a proposal, 
 which was that the removal of the paper duties should 
 be celebrated by an enlargement of The Christian World. 
 Poor Mrs. Whittemore was very disappointed. For 
 some time she withheld her consent, while Mr. Clarke 
 pleaded and persuaded. At length she agreed. On 
 
 84
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 October 4, 1861, the paper was enlarged, and the follow- 
 ing announcement was made by the editor : 
 
 "WE, AND YOU A GIFT AND A REQUEST. 
 
 " Four years and a half ago was issued the first number 
 of The Christian World. It was an experiment. To the 
 honour of our countrymen we record to-day that the experi- 
 ment has been completely successful, and in pursuance of our 
 promise we begin the tenth half-year of our labours in this journal 
 in the cause of Charity, Purity, and Truth, by presenting to our 
 readers sixteen columns of additional matter, as a proof of 
 gratitude for past support, and as a pledge of our perfect con- 
 fidence that their prompt and generous co-operation will prove 
 that we have acted wisely." 
 
 Among the last words which Mr. Whittemore said 
 to his wife were " Trust Clarke ! " advice which she 
 was wise enough to follow. Mr. Clarke had been the 
 acting editor even before Mr. Whittemore's death, and 
 he immediately took entire charge of the journal. This 
 sagacious decision to give the readers the benefit of the 
 cheapened paper naturally commended itself to the 
 subscribers, and the result was an instant and very 
 large increase in the circulation. 
 
 Mr. Clarke proved himself, in every respect, a 
 delightful editor under whom to work. I believe that 
 he, in faith and confidence, increased all our salaries. 
 Certainly there was a never-to-be-forgotten evening, 
 which I spent at his house at Clapham, when he told 
 me that he would double mine. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Clarke and their family of three sons 
 and three daughters had only lately removed to their 
 
 85
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 pleasant house on Clapham Common. I was shown 
 over it by the youngest boy, a little fellow dressed in 
 knickerbockers, who is at the present time the editor of 
 The Christian World, Mr. Herbert Clarke. 
 
 In the enlarged paper, space was found for another 
 contribution of mine. I began a series of articles for 
 ^children under the heading of "Chats by the Sea," and 
 increased the length of my articles called " Echoes 
 from the Valley." Other contributions followed. In 
 1 866 I wrote " A Sad Story of Family Life ; or, Pro- 
 voking Children to Wrath." All that I wrote for The 
 Christian World was gathered into volumes, which were 
 kindly welcomed by my public. Following very quickly 
 " Lays and Lyrics of the Blessed Life," a volume of 
 prose articles, called " Life Sketches and Echoes from 
 the Valley," was published in book form. My friend 
 Mr. George Creasey kindly offered to lend me fifty 
 pounds to enable me to bring this volume out at my 
 own risk. The first edition sold very quickly, and I 
 was pleased, and he surprised, at the short time which 
 passed before I repaid that loan, with sincere thanks. 
 
 But it must not be thought that I was the popular 
 member of the staff. Christopher Crayon's articles were 
 eagerly read in The Christian World, and the stories by 
 Emma Jane Worboise were the most popular novels 
 written at the time. Thousands bought the paper for 
 these stories only, and each one, as it was completed, 
 had a large sale in book form. They were healthy and 
 interesting, and met a want in many Christian homes. 
 I am glad to think they are still being sold and read in 
 1907, a new edition meeting almost the old success. 
 
 86
 
 "The Christian World" 
 
 The circulation of the journal went up by leaps and 
 bounds. The number for June 29, 1866, contained on 
 the front page a picture of the new offices of The 
 Christian World, in Fleet Street, an illustration which 
 told its own story of progress ; and on February 8, 1867, 
 less than ten years after its birth, it was announced 
 that- 3 
 
 " The Weekly Circulation of THE CHRISTIAN WORLD 
 exceeds One Hundred Thousand"
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 NORTHAMPTON 
 "" N the year that The Christian World was started it 
 
 I 
 
 was borne in upon me that I must leave home, 
 and go away to earn my own living, for my father's 
 life was a struggle, and it was difficult to make both 
 ends meet. My sister Hephzibah was old enough 
 now to take my place at home. So I answered an 
 advertisement in The Christian World for a teacher at 
 , Gravesend, and the situation was given to me. I have 
 never been so lonely in all my life as during those first 
 months at Gravesend, alone and in a strange place. I 
 often walked along the streets, in which I knew no one, 
 with tears running down my cheeks, because I was so 
 solitary and sad. Our home had been a bright and 
 happy one. My sister was so full of fun, and singing 
 and laughter were constant sounds in our house. My 
 life at the chapel, too, was so full of joy and gladness 
 that I missed the companionship of those who were dear 
 to me in Farningham and Eynsford more than words 
 can say. And yet I am always glad to have had that 
 experience, because I have ever since known how to 
 sympathize with lonely girls. I was not solitary for 
 any length of time. My sister and others came to see 
 
 88
 
 Northampton 
 
 me, and occasionally I went home for the Sunday 
 walking the eight miles that lay between Farningham 
 and Gravesend, because I enjoyed it, and to save the 
 train-fare. I was not long without friends in Gravesend. 
 It was there that I became acquainted with Miss Gordge, 
 the head-mistress of the largest school in the town, who 
 was very good to me then, and for many years after. 
 She had worked strenuously, and was at the head of 
 her college list, but all too soon her health failed, and 
 she was obliged to take a year's rest. This was a great 
 grief to me, and I promised that when she was again 
 able to teach I would go to her, if there were an opening. 
 This promise changed the current of my life, for it was 
 in consequence of it that, in 1859, 1 went to Northampton, 
 where I have lived and done my life's work for nearly 
 fifty years. 
 
 It was with many misgivings that I made the change, 
 because I was happy and successful in my work at 
 Gravesend, but chiefly because it took me so far from 
 my home. I wanted to be with my friend, but I wanted 
 to do what was right, and to be assured that it was in 
 accordance with the will of God concerning me. As 
 far as I knew, the only gain would be the com- 
 panionship of my friend, which, however, was one which 
 I most highly valued. The salary offered to me was no 
 more than I was receiving at Gravesend, and there was 
 no prospect that my life could be more usefully spent at 
 Northampton than in Kent. My dear ones at home 
 my father and my sister in their generous love, brought 
 no pressure to bear upon me, put no impediment in the 
 way, but were ready to forward my desires with all 
 
 89
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 kindness and good-will. I consulted Mr. Whittemore, 
 who strongly advised me to accept the offer. He said 
 the change to Northampton would in itself be an educa- 
 tion, enlarging my outlook, and giving me a knowledge 
 of life in many aspects, which would be greatly to my 
 advantage. And he told me that at Northampton I 
 should hear a man who preached like a prophet and 
 prayed like a seraph the Rev. John Turland Brown. 
 My friends, on my last Sunday at home, in the homely 
 fashion common to country Nonconformists, offered 
 special prayers for me in the vestry of Eynsford chapel, 
 beseeching God to bless and guide me, and to take care 
 of me always. 
 
 So I came to Northampton, as the head-mistress of 
 the infant department of the British school, which 
 position I held for seven years, and in which I was very 
 happy. I did not at first like Northampton, nor believe 
 that I should remain very long in the town, but events 
 to which I shall afterward refer occurred in the 
 course of years, that availed to keep me there. 
 
 Northampton grows upon one. When I was first 
 told that it was called "the proud beauty of the Mid- 
 lands," the name seemed to me an absurd exaggeration, 
 but now I think it is not too grand a designation. It 
 stands on high ground, and is surrounded by wide 
 breezy spaces. After the air of the Darent Valley, it 
 was cold ; but as our family had been liable to consump- 
 tion, the probability is that the fresh, strong air was very 
 beneficial to me and mine. Northampton is an old 
 country town with much that is quaint in it ; the market 
 square is especially large, most of the houses surrounding 
 
 90
 
 Northampton 
 
 it are old, and the square presents still a lively scene 
 on market days. The names of the streets recall the 
 uses to which in old times they were put Horsemarket, 
 Marefair, Bull Lane, Sawpit Lane, Greyfriars, and The 
 Drapery, the chief business street of the town. The old 
 churches are very fine. No words could do justice to 
 the beautiful monument of antique architecture, St. 
 Peter's, or the remarkable round church of the Holy 
 Sepulchre, in which, soon after my arrival, I heard Jenny 
 Lind sing for the restoration funds. I found interesting 
 old chapels, too, notably the Independent chapel on 
 Castle Hill, the scene of the ministry of Dr. Doddridge 
 who opened his academy at Northampton in 1729, and 
 College Lane Meeting- House, built in 1714. It was to 
 the latter quaint old place that I took my letter of intro- 
 duction from Mr. Whittemore to the Rev. J. T. Brown, 
 on my first Sunday morning in Northampton. It struck 
 me as being a very tumble-down old place, with worn 
 brick floor, and pews awry through their great age. I 
 did not like it, and was glad to hear that a new chapel 
 was soon to be built. First impressions are often wrong, 
 but a sense of loneliness oppressed me at College Street 
 for some years, and even after I had a seat in the new 
 chapel. The secretary of the British schools, Mr. Walker, 
 gave me and my friend a pressing invitation to attend 
 the Congregational Church of Commercial Street, and 
 sing in the choir, which for some time we did. The 
 Rev. E. T. Prust, the pastor, and Mrs. Prust were among 
 my first friends. 
 
 The people of Northampton were, as I soon dis- 
 covered, friendly and hospitable, characteristics which 
 
 91
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 still abide, though the boys and girls whom I knew then 
 are fathers and mothers now. It was soon evident that 
 they were extremely political, and that the Liberals 
 and Radicals made a great majority. When Mr. Brad- 
 laugh came upon the scene an idea got abroad that 
 Northampton was a town of secularist unbelievers. If 
 in my travels I mentioned the name, I was several times 
 met by an astonished question, " Can any good thing 
 come out of Northampton ? " But the idea was a mis- 
 taken one. The town had at that time, and has 
 still, a larger average of church-going people than 
 almost any other. It insisted on sending Mr. Bradlaugh 
 to Parliament, not because it was less religious, but 
 because it cared more strongly for liberty than most. 
 But I am not a political partisan, though perhaps I 
 ought to be ashamed to confess it ! 
 
 My school work was not easy, for part of my duties 
 was to give lessons to my assistants, the pupil teachers, 
 and for this I was not really qualified as I ought to 
 have been. My friend, however, was extremely kind to 
 me, and generously assisted me in my difficulties during 
 
 N the years of our happy life together. I suppose they 
 were strenuous years, but they were delightful ones. 
 We both loved the fields and the meadows, and took 
 walks to the pretty villages which lie so near to the 
 town, and our home-life was peaceful and joyous. For 
 some time we lived in the house of two Friends. All the 
 four of us were engaged to be married, and we had some 
 fun in arranging for our visitors, and in talking over 
 
 ^prospects. My three friends were eventually married, 
 but for myself, then and afterwards, I was made to know 
 
 92
 
 Northampton 
 
 that the sheltered life of a married woman was not 
 God's will concerning me. 
 
 So I accepted His decision, and soon began to learn 
 something of the law of compensation. I found that I 
 had many friends to love and care for, and many whose 
 friendships were intellectual blessings. My time of 
 loneliness was quite lost and forgotten. My life during 
 these years was increasingly busy. My school had 
 grown in numbers, and my pen-work had grown ^ 
 also. I suffered a good deal in those days from 
 neuralgia, and my holidays from school, when I always 
 went home to Farningham, were scarcely long enough 
 to recuperate my health. Not that I was wholly given 
 to work, for I managed to squeeze into the weeks a 
 good deal of pleasure. I was still young and glad, with 
 keen interest in all the happenings about me, with hopes 
 and dreams and resolves that lifted me to a higher 
 plane, and filled me with aspirations. I am afraid that 
 my work was sometimes badly done, because there was 
 not time enough for all that I tried to do, and there 
 was one matter in which I tried to be resolute I did 
 not often burn the midnight oil. I loved my work, but 
 it did not so absolutely engross my heart and thought 
 as to prevent me from living my own life; new interests 
 and new friends brought sunshine into the darkest days, 
 and I look back upon that as a good time. 
 
 Nevertheless, I was greatly pleased when Mr. Clarke 
 proposed to me that I should give up school-teaching, and 
 depend for a livelihood upon my pen. This was in 1867. / 
 
 The first thing I did after being set free from teach- 
 ing in school was to go to Hastings for a holiday. I 
 
 93
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 needed rest, and already had learned that nothing 
 helped me so much in my writing, and gave me new 
 ideas and subjects for thought, as change of scene. I 
 loved the sea, and it always benefited me, physically 
 and mentally ; perhaps I may also add spiritually. 
 
 When I returned from Hastings, at the close of my 
 holiday, it was with the fixed determination to leave 
 Northampton. " The land was all before me, where to 
 choose." I could think of a dozen towns more interest- 
 ing than " Leatherton " Hastings, Plymouth, Dover, 
 Canterbury, and some delightful villages, Farningham, 
 Eynsford, Shoreham, Sevenoaks. It is a curious thing 
 that I had no wish to go to London, where I have little 
 doubt now that I ought to have gone, and where, 
 during the last twenty years of my life, I have often 
 wished to be. But London, as a place of residence, 
 was not then what it is now. The noise of cities never 
 commended itself to me, and though I have always 
 loved people and been interested in them, my natural 
 bent has been toward the country and a quiet life. 
 
 I thought I would not decide in a hurry as to my future 
 residence, but in the end I remained at Northampton. 
 My literary and journalistic friends said it was stupid of 
 me, though I think they knew I was not so well fitted to 
 be a townswoman as one of the country. Christopher 
 Crayon spoke very disrespectfully of Northampton. 
 " If I were you," he said, " I would live either in a town 
 or a village Northampton is neither the one nor the 
 other ! " My long residence there has no doubt cost me 
 something. It would have been pleasant to be able to 
 associate more with others doing the same work as 
 
 94
 
 Northampton 
 
 myself, but such institutions as writers' clubs were not 
 dreamed of in the days when I made my decision. 
 Northampton is a good place in which to live. It is 
 bracing and healthy and clean. It is also less expensive 
 than many towns, and people with moderate incomes 
 might do much worse than come and reside in it. The 
 making of boots and shoes is not dirty work, and it is 
 not a smoky town. Moreover, and this has been a great 
 convenience to me, it is a good centre. It is little more 
 than sixty miles from London, and not as far from 
 Leicester, Birmingham, Derby, Nottingham, Oxford, 
 Cambridge, and other important places. I have always 
 found it a good town from which to get away, and better 
 now than it once was to come home to. It is well served, 
 especially by my favourite railway, the London and 
 North-Western, and I have been almost as good as a 
 commercial traveller for taking journeys, north, south, 
 east, and west. 
 
 I cannot say that I regret my decision to stay, and 
 I think, perhaps, notwithstanding the huge workshops 
 for the manufacture of boots and shoes, it may be 
 called " the proud beauty of the Midlands." 
 
 But the spell which drew me into its heart, and kept 
 me there, was my Bible class, of which I shall have 
 more to say presently. And since then, and always^ 
 it has been the people more than the place, for they 
 have given me in rich and kind abundance that 
 which Drummond called " The Greatest Thing in 
 the World" Love. 
 
 As was only natural after my own experiences in 
 elementary day schools, it was not the schools of Sunday 
 
 95
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 alone which interested me. I followed the passing of 
 the Education Bill of 1870 with much solicitude. When 
 the first School Board was formed in Northampton, a 
 deputation from the Liberal party waited upon me to 
 ask if I would consent to be nominated as a member. 
 It will be remembered that then, as now, what was 
 called the religious difficulty was very much in evidence, 
 and some, at least, of the Radicals in our town were for 
 having the Bible left out of the curriculum. The gentle- 
 man who called upon me, to my great surprise, was one 
 of them, although a member of our church, and a 
 devoted local preacher. He stated the views of those 
 whom he represented, and I said that under no circum- 
 stances would I vote for religious instruction to be 
 abolished. Under the British school system the scrip- 
 ture lessons were considered the most important of all, 
 and I could not bear the thought of an infant school in 
 which the little ones were taught nothing of Him who 
 said, " Suffer the children to come unto Me, and forbid 
 them not." Then my friend gave me to understand 
 that the Liberal party would have none of me on the 
 School Board. 
 
 Fifteen years later kindly pressure was brought to 
 bear on me by some of the teachers of the town, more 
 particularly the women. A lady had already served on 
 the Board for several years, but she had not been able 
 to continue, and for some years Northampton missed 
 the advantage of having a woman member. The teachers 
 thought that as I knew and trusted them, and as I 
 could sometimes go into the schools and talk to the 
 elder girls, I might render useful service, if I would 
 
 96
 
 Northampton 
 
 become a candidate at the next election. I took a little 
 time to think it through, and to consult with the wisest 
 man I knew in the town, my minister, the Rev. J. T. 
 Brown, who strongly urged me to accede to the request 
 of the teachers, and himself offered to nominate me. 
 My difficulty was that as far as I knew the Radical 
 members were in the same mind in regard to religious 
 instruction as they had been at first, and as most of 
 them were my personal friends, and as I was for the 
 most part with them in my opinions, I scarcely liked to 
 seem to go against them. But those who wanted the 
 Bible excluded from the schools were never in the 
 majority in Northampton, and as I thought I could 
 spare a little time, I resolved to take an independent 
 position, and, belonging to neither party, to take up the 
 work if the town showed that it wished me to do so. I 
 determined to have no canvassing, nor to address any 
 public meetings, but to print a letter, and send it round 
 to the voters. 
 
 I thought I did not care much which way the election 
 went, but when the day came I found myself too excited 
 to get the thought of it out of my mind. One or two 
 friends called during the day to tell me that things were 
 going on well for me. A few days before the same 
 friend who had interviewed me fifteen years before sent 
 me this message, " Tell Miss Hearn that unless she 
 goes to the poll under the influence of our party she 
 hasn't a chance." I thought I had, but did not feel at 
 all sure of the result. In the evening, as I came away 
 from our week-evening service, a friend met me. " The 
 result of the election will not be declared until to-morrow," 
 
 97 G
 
 A Working Woman's Life, 
 
 he said ; " but it is certain that you will be in. Will 
 you come to the Town Hall, and watch the counting for 
 a few minutes with me ? " I am always glad that I 
 went, because it was my only chance of being present 
 at such a function. Several of the gentlemen congratu- 
 lated me in anticipation, which was comforting. The 
 next morning news came to me that my Northampton 
 friends had been many enough and kind enough to 
 place me with a large majority at the head of the poll. 
 The first time after this that I went into the town the 
 kindly faces and greetings of my friends and neighbours 
 were so expressive that I should have been more or less 
 than human if I had not been conscious that a new 
 blessing and opportuuity had come to me. 
 
 They were very pleasant years during which I had a 
 seat on the Northampton School Board. I was not at 
 all sure that all the members of the Board were glad to 
 have me there I fancy that most women who occupy 
 public positions with men have the same doubt but 
 they were all courteous, and we worked together har- 
 N moniously. The greatest opposition I had was from 
 one of the Labour members when I wished to introduce 
 cooking-lessons into the schools. But as he was not 
 supported, my resolution was carried, and he is now as 
 pleased and proud as anybody with the girls' achieve- 
 ments in cookery. 
 
 For six years I remained on the School Board. There 
 was no election at the end of the first three years, as 
 nobody appeared to turn us out. 1 would like to have 
 continued, but found that I could not spare the time, 
 and the walk from my home to the Town Hall on winter
 
 Northampton 
 
 evenings seemed to grow longer and longer with each 
 year. When the new and much-discussed Education" 1 
 Bill of 1902 changed the authority, the Town Council did 
 me the honour to make me a co-opted member of the 
 committee. But I was able to do so little, in com- 
 parison with what I felt a woman member ought to do, 
 that I only kept the position for two years. I am very , 
 glad if I have been able to be of any service to teachers, 
 because, in my opinion, they are the finest, most useful, 
 and least appreciated class of persons in the kingdom. 
 
 99
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 THE FIRST SUNDAY SCHOOL PAPER 
 
 VERY soon after the establishment of The Christian 
 World, the idea of a journal devoted entirely to 
 the interests of the Sunday school and of young people 
 generally began to grow and expand in the brain of Mr. 
 Whittemore. Sunday schools were doing magnificent 
 work under serious difficulties, and Mr. Whittemore was 
 resolved to help them. The Sunday School Union had 
 not yet ventured on a journal of its own ; there was 
 therefore, a promising opportunity for the editor of The 
 Christian World to supply a felt need. I had long talks 
 with him on the subject before leaving Farningham. 
 He gave me to understand that it was my opportunity, 
 too, and asked me to become a contributor to the paper 
 when it should be started. It was to be as much for 
 the home as for the Sunday school, and several of us 
 tried to find a good name for it. We decided that it 
 must have the two names to indicate the character of 
 the journal, and it was, therefore, called TJte Sunday 
 School Times and Home Educator. The block which 
 still heads the paper, and has now come to have a 
 very ancient appearance indeed, was also the subject 
 of much thought. The little pictures in the corners, 
 
 100
 
 The First Sunday School Paper 
 
 one representing a family group and the other a 
 class in the Sunday school, with the mottoes around 
 them, have become so well known in thousands of 
 homes, that in any other dress the paper would lose 
 some of its character. The originator was determined 
 that the price should be only a halfpenny, though most 
 of his friends thought it would mean ruin. It was, I 
 believe, the first halfpenny paper on record, and it com- 
 mended itself to Sunday school teachers as being within 
 the reach of the very poorest. 
 
 Mr. Whittemore's idea was to have something for 
 every one in the columns of The Sunday School Times. 
 Authors were engaged to contribute serial stories, 
 ministers to write sermons to children and Sunday 
 school addresses, and well-known men and women to con- 
 tribute papers on family or educational subjects. Lesson- 
 helps for teachers were scarcely to be found in any 
 publication ; the International Lesson had not yet been 
 thought of, but lessons on Bible subjects were, of course, 
 given in Sunday schools, and many of those who gave 
 them greatly needed help. I told Mr. Whittemore of 
 my friend, Miss Gordge, and assured htm that no one 
 could write more excellent lessons than she. He said 
 he would come down to Northampton and be introduced 
 to her. He did so, and she undertook to write some 
 lessons for the journal, and has been a contributor ever 
 since, indeed there has scarcely been a week without one 
 or two lessons and other articles from her pen. She is 
 well known to present readers by her married name, 
 Mrs. Euren. It was left open to me to write anything 
 I wished, though the first thing asked of me was that 
 
 101
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 I would try to fit hymns to certain tunes which the 
 editor was then publishing. 
 
 It was on Friday, January 6, 1860, that the first 
 number of Tfte Sunday School Times and Home Educator 
 appeared, having been previously announced in The 
 Christian World. On its first page was a portrait of 
 Rev. John Angell James, and an article on "God's 
 Heroes," by Emma Jane Worboise. " The Land and 
 the Book," by Rev. W. Thompson, D.D., was com- 
 menced, also " Lectures for Little Ones on the ' Pilgrim's 
 Progress.' " " Walks in the Temple, being Illustrations 
 of Types of Jewish Worship," were begun. The first 
 instalment of a serial by the author of " Golden Hills," 
 called "Jessie Gordon, or a Sunday Scholar's Influence," 
 also appeared. There were three Sunday school 
 lessons, one by the author of " The Golden Year," and 
 two by Miss Gordge, the author of " Sunday School 
 Characteristics." 
 
 My contribution to the initial number was the first 
 of a series of Sunday school sketches and a poem. 
 
 The following good business announcement was 
 prominent in this number : 
 
 " As an encouragement for its general adoption, the editors 
 of The Sunday School Times have made arrangements, at a 
 large outlay, for every subscriber for one year to be presented 
 gratis with a copy of the second series of 
 
 "'DR. TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN, 
 
 a volume recently published at one shilling and one and six. 
 Annual subscribers, therefore, of four and fourpence, paid in 
 advance, through superintendents or others, who may order 
 
 I O2
 
 The First Sunday School Paper 
 
 eight copies, will be supplied free of postage, fifty-two weeks 
 with The Sunday School Times, which, at the end of the year, 
 will form a volume of four hundred folio pages of closely- 
 printed matter, equal to four large octavo volumes, ordinarily 
 sold at thirty shillings, and also with one of the most interesting 
 and instructive series of Lectures to Children ever published." 
 
 The introduction of the paper to the Christian 
 public had been prepared with elaborate care and fore- 
 thought. Ministers and Sunday school superintendents 
 throughout the land had been apprised of its coming. 
 When it came it was at once felt by thousands to be a 
 boon that had been worth waiting for. Wise suggestions 
 were made as to its circulation. It was not so much 
 through the booksellers as through friends, personally 
 and intensely interested in Sunday school work, that it 
 became known. The result of all the thought and skill 
 expended on its publication was that it had a most 
 enthusiastic reception. It received, indeed, an ovation. 
 Alike in large cities and towns and in remote hamlets 
 and villages, it was welcomed as a true friend. Perhaps 
 the smaller Sunday schools regarded it even more 
 affectionately than the large ones, arrangements being 
 made for parcels to be sent to teachers or super- 
 intendents. From that day to this The Sunday School 
 Times in the villages has been a real power. 
 
 During the very first year of its publication the 
 circulation reached the extraordinary sale of twenty-five 
 thousand copies. It was a pathetic coincidence that the 
 originator died in that first year of the life of the journal 
 in which he was so interested. The Sunday school 
 teachers of England have never had a better friend than 
 
 103
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 Jonathan Whittemore, and the contributors to the paper, 
 as well as thousands of readers in all parts of the country, 
 sincerely mourned his loss. He had, however, given The 
 Sunday School Times a good start, and those who came 
 after him knew exactly on what lines he wished it to be 
 developed. 
 
 The paper held its own and maintained its circula- 
 tion through the years that followed, and was always 
 acknowledged to be excellent value for its small cost. 
 A glance through the numbers of the first ten years 
 reveals the constant and rather prolific writer that 
 I had become. In 1868 I was writing a series of 
 "Sunday School Sketches," of "Sunday School Lyrics," 
 and " Stories for the Children ; " also during that year 
 I wrote every week one of the papers on " Girlhood." 
 As soon as they were finished a new series of papers on 
 "Home Life" commenced, and ran for about a year, 
 being followed by papers on " Boyhood." 
 
 In the number of The Sunday School Times for 
 January I, 1869, there was a portrait of myself, and a 
 short sketch on the front page. The editor announced 
 that it was there because 
 
 " a considerable number of the readers of this paper and The 
 Christian World had at various times requested the publishers 
 to give them a wood-cut engraving of this lady, whose writings 
 they have so long read with interest and profit. From the 
 first number to the present, Marianne Farningham has been 
 a weekly and never-failing writer in TJie Sunday School Times, 
 as well as in The Christian World. 
 
 " Practical usefulness is the manifest aim of all Miss 
 Farningham's writings, and we have reason to believe that 
 
 104
 
 The First Sunday School Paper 
 
 multitudes of young persons have had cause for devout thank- 
 fulness for having been brought under the influence of her 
 words, and induced to listen to her wise counsels and tender 
 appeals. It is not our present purpose to give any particulars 
 of Marianne Farningham's life, nor, indeed, to do anything 
 more than merely to say that the accompanying engraving has 
 been executed simply with a view of gratifying a host of readers 
 who wished for a glimpse of the face of one who for many years 
 had been their instructor and friend." 
 
 Two years later the portrait of Mr. James Clarke, 
 the editor of the Sunday School Times, Christian World, 
 Literary World, and Christian World Pulpit, occupied 
 the first page of the New Year number. It was 
 accompanied by a character-sketch. 
 
 " Two years ago we gave on this page a wood engraving of 
 the most constant and best-known contributor to our paper 
 Marianne Farningham. To-day, at the request of not a few 
 readers, we venture to insert the likeness of the man who, for 
 the past twelve years, has been the editor of The Sunday School 
 Times, and for*fifteen years and more the editor of The Christian 
 World. Mr. Clarke was closely identified with both these 
 journals from their very birth ; and, with the exception of some 
 eighteen months in their early history, has had the entire literary 
 control of both alike. Owing to causes which readers of these 
 periodicals for any length of time may be able to understand 
 without explanation, no considerable period elapsed before the 
 public gave them a large circulation, and not only gave, but 
 sustained, and that with an ever widening field of influence 
 and usefulness. It will probably be scarcely less gratifying to 
 the supporters of The Christian World and of The Sunday School 
 Times, than it is to their editor, to know that the demand for 
 both the papers is at this moment greater, by thousands every 
 week, than ever before in their history. It is a low estimate 
 
 105
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 to say that, combined, the readers of these journals number 
 half a million of people. 
 
 "It may be helpful to some young man or woman who 
 may read these lines to be told that Mr. Clarke attributes his 
 success in these and all other undertakings, under the guiding 
 hand of Divine Providence, first, to a clear perception of what 
 he sought to attain, and then to persistent efforts to attain it. 
 In his case it may be said, as in the case of many others, ' The 
 child was father to the man ' ; for, from the earliest age, when 
 at home in a sleepy Essex village in his father's house, he 
 longed for books and magazines, when few or none were to be 
 had, except the Bible, the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' Watts's and 
 Wesley's Hymns, Cole on the ' Divine Sovereignty,' and The 
 Child's Companion. Indeed, even this single periodical, it is 
 believed, had never found its way to that locality till he himself 
 became a subscriber for a copy each month, and which he 
 induced all the boys and girls of the place he could influence 
 to come together and hear read, when the slow ' number-man ' 
 arrived weeks after the date of the anxiously expected magazine. 
 The Youth! s Magazine and The Visitor followed in process of 
 time, and a few others as money could be spared ; while the 
 loan of a volume of the once famous and really excellent Penny 
 Magazine of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge 
 was a treasure highly prized and never to be forgotten. 
 
 " In process of time, when the work of the world had to be 
 begun, and town life entered upon, Mr. Clarke remembers few 
 things more vividly than the pleasure with which he entered 
 upon the self-imposed task of getting subscribers to a list of 
 periodicals, and of delivering them each month as the parcel 
 came in by the stage-coach, which was often waited up for till 
 past midnight to gratify the desire of an early sight of the 
 charming new magazines. Various circumstances served but 
 to foster this early taste, the acceptance of certain fugitive pieces 
 of his own by two or three periodicals being, perhaps, not 
 
 IO6
 
 The First Sunday School Paper 
 
 among the least potent. The consequence was that, after a 
 few years of journalistic apprenticeship in London, he required 
 no strong persuasions to induce him to associate with others in 
 the publication of The Christian World, one of the very first of 
 the penny journals. . . . The Sunday School Times was only a 
 few years after The World, and though it was predicted that a 
 halfpenny paper could never pay, it was, in fact, a success from 
 the very first number, and a precursor of many other halfpenny 
 periodicals. Then came a sixpenny monthly, The Christian 
 World Magazine, soon followed by The Literary World giving 
 a full account of all the new books of the day, and last, for the 
 present, The Christian World Pulpit, the cheapest pennyworth 
 of sermon literature ever before attempted. It is with the most 
 profound thankfulness and gratitude that Mr. Clarke is able to 
 say that in every one of these attempts to supply a cheap, 
 wholesome literature for the people he has succeeded even 
 beyond his most sanguine expectations. The Christian public 
 evidently wanted what he was led to provide for them, and if 
 life and health be spared he hopes to see greater things in 
 relation to our periodical literature than has yet been realized. 
 Meanwhile his thanks, and the thanks of all his associates, are 
 felt to be justly due, and are hereby given, with no grudging 
 spirit, to every reader whose co-operation has brought about 
 these results which have led to this brief statement of the rise 
 and growth of The Sunday School Times, and its four healthy 
 sisters of 13, Fleet Street." 
 
 From the first The Sunday School Times began the 
 year with a portrait and sketch of some worker for the 
 young. Between those of Marianne Farningham and 
 Mr. Clarke was placed Mr. Daniel Pratt, chairman of 
 the Sunday School Union, a devoted member of the 
 Union committee for twenty-seven years. 
 
 In 1874 Mrs. Raymond Pitman's face looked upon 
 107
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 her readers, and her interesting serial story, "Life's 
 Daily Ministry," ran through that year. 
 
 In 1875 the subject was the Rev. Llewelyn D. 
 Bevan, LL.B., who was at that time writing for The 
 Sunday School Times a series of suggestive studies of 
 the history of Jesus, in the order of the Gospels, under 
 the title of " Lessons from the Life." 
 
 In 1876 a worker still living, and now the oldest 
 secretary of the Sunday School Union, and always 
 the chairman of its publication committee, Mr. William 
 Howse Groser, occupied the first page. He edited two 
 of the magazines which in my youth were most helpful 
 to me, The Bible Class Magazine and The Youth 's Com- 
 panion. 
 
 Following Mr. Groser in the Sunday School Times 
 portrait gallery was another member of the Union 
 committee, Mr. Fountain John Hartley. This was in 
 1877, when the International Bible Lesson System had 
 lately been introduced ; the European section was 
 represented by him and his friend, Mr. Groser. He 
 himself had written two useful booklets on " Sunday 
 School Statistics " and " Pictorial Teaching." 
 
 In 1878 the portrait was that of Sir Charles Reed, 
 the first chairman of the London School Board, and 
 chairman and president of the Sunday School Union a 
 fine man in every way, who should never be forgotten, 
 who did more for education in this country than almost 
 any other man. In 1841 appeared his " Infant Class in 
 the Sunday School," for which he obtained the first 
 prize in a public competition. In 1855 he published a 
 plea for the establishment of Free Libraries, entitled 
 
 1 08
 
 The First Sunday School Paper 
 
 'Why Not?" and thus rendered an immense service to 
 the country. 
 
 A lady occupied the first place in 1879, Mrs. Wood- 
 ward, who had published several popular stories, and 
 whose serials, " Ethel Leslie's Temptation," and " Ella 
 Dawson's Difficulties," appeared in The Sunday School 
 Times during the year. 
 
 In 1880 our friend " Christopher Crayon," Mr. James 
 Ewing Ritchie, occupied the page of honour. All 
 readers of The Sunday School Times, and especially of 
 The Christian World knew and loved him for his racy 
 articles, his vigorous and graphic descriptions of men 
 and places, which made him ever a favourite. 
 
 These and those whose portraits followed were all our 
 friends, and used their influence on behalf of our paper. 
 
 I was myself writing for it with all my might, and 
 my rhymes are a surprise to myself as I turn over the 
 old records. In the number for January 3, 1879, is my 
 thousandth contribution in verse to The Sunday School 
 Times. Perhaps, on account of its number, I may be 
 pardoned for reproducing it here. 
 
 " What shall I wish you, my children ? 
 
 Over the frozen snow 
 A stranger is coming to you 
 
 Whose face you do not know ; 
 But you haste to give him welcome, 
 
 With the ringing of the bells ; 
 Though what are the gifts he brings you 
 
 The stranger never tells. 
 
 " What shall I wish you, my children ? 
 
 First that the Guest may bring 
 Blessings of peace and plenty, 
 
 (For he comes from a gracious King), 
 109
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 That his hands may be full of treasures, 
 And that you may none of them miss, 
 
 That the days may be passed in sunshine, - 
 Say, shall I wish you this ? 
 
 " Yes, but there's something better 
 
 Than flowers and light and song, 
 A treasure that never fadeth, 
 
 A blessing that lingers long, 
 A Friend who will go beside you 
 
 Whenever the light is dim, 
 So whatever the day has hidden, 
 
 I hope you will walk with Him. 
 
 "And chiefly I wish you, children, 
 
 The love of this gracious Friend, 
 For that is the treasure that lasteth, 
 
 And the blessing that has no end, 
 And you know it is yours already, 
 
 So turn not your hearts away, 
 But give Him your trust for ever, 
 
 And love him this New Year's Day. 
 
 " And I wish that the year in passing 
 
 May render you glad and wise, 
 With a hope that is fixed on Jesus, 
 
 And a home that is in the skies ; 
 May it make you strong and useful, 
 
 And a blessing to all around ; 
 And aye, in the paths of goodness, 
 
 May the children I love be found. 
 
 "And then I know that your spirits 
 
 Will be glad in the bright new year, 
 And the peace of the great All- Father 
 
 Shall quiet each rising fear j 
 And gently His hand shall lead you, 
 
 And fondly His heart shall love, 
 Oh ! children give praise for ever 
 
 To the God who is King above." 
 
 HO
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 MY BIBLE CLASS 
 
 I HAD not associated myself with a Sunday school 
 while I was all the week engaged in teaching, but 
 it was ever my intention to resume the work in which 
 at Eynsford, Bristol, and Gravesend, I had been deeply 
 interested. A few days after my return from Hastings, 
 a lady called to ask if I would take her class, as in con- 
 sequence of failing health she felt compelled to relinquish 
 it. I told her that I was not remaining in Northampton, 
 and therefore it would not be possible for me to fill the 
 vacant place. She said there were many friends who 
 hoped I should remain, and begged me to reconsider 
 the question. She informed me that the class was com- 
 posed of fifteen or sixteen girls, whose ages were from 
 sixteen to twenty. She thought that I should be 
 interested in them, and able to help them. But I 
 declined, assuring her that my mind was made up to 
 leave the town. The next day the superintendent came 
 to talk to me, Mr. William Gray. He was more urgent 
 even than Miss Shrewsbury had been. He was sure it 
 was my duty to step into this gap, and he would not 
 leave until I had promised to take the class while I 
 remained in the town. I said it would be no use, as 
 
 HI
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 I did not expect to be there more than three months. 
 But he replied that the class would be altogether 
 without a teacher unless I would undertake it, and that 
 by the end of three months they would perhaps be able 
 to find some one else. 
 
 On the next Sunday afternoon a member of the 
 class, who had been one of my pupil teachers, took me 
 down to College Street and introduced me to the girls. 
 This was before the time of the International Lessons, so 
 I chose my own, the Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. 
 I did not take trouble to specially prepare it, thinking 
 that I knew enough to give a lesson on the subject. 
 But when I looked at these young women, my heart 
 misgave me. They received me kindly enough, though, 
 as was natural, they were feeling very real regret at 
 losing the teacher who had loved them for many years. 
 The class was held in the chapel, in the corner of one 
 of the galleries. The girls sat on two seats at right 
 angles, and a chair was placed for me in front of them. 
 Scarcely ever have I experienced such deep humiliation 
 as during that afternoon. One of the girls knew much 
 more about the lesson than I did. She contradicted me 
 several times, she put questions to me which I could not 
 answer, and smiled scornfully while I deduced the lessons 
 from the narrative for the benefit of the class. It was 
 one of the longest and worst hours of my life. I slipped 
 away as quickly as possible at the close, alone, feeling 
 that nothing should induce me to face the ordeal again. 
 I reached home with a violent headache, thoroughly 
 miserable, and spent the evening full of shame and 
 remorse. But the next morning something in me 
 
 112
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 revolted. I hated to be beaten. It was a shameful 
 thing if I, lately the head-mistress of a school, and a 
 life-long student of the Bible, could not give a lesson to 
 a class of girls ! Most of them I knew worked in the 
 shoe-factories, but my doughty combatant was a servant. 
 They were all, however, very intelligent and bright 
 young persons, and I knew myself well enough to be 
 sure that it was possible to get much pleasure by talking 
 to them about the things I loved most. So I resolved/ 
 to try again next Sunday, but to be very especially 
 careful to have my lesson thoroughly well prepared. 
 
 When I met the class again I was ready to answer 
 questions, and the girls were ready to receive me very 
 kindly. I knew that I had to win my way with them. 
 It was no case of love at first sight. But I did not 
 despair of making them my friends, and, indeed, was 
 resolved to do it. I confessed my shame at last 
 Sunday's failure, and I think the girls liked me the 
 better for that. 
 
 The three months passed quickly away, and at the 
 end of them I was no nearer to a decision in regard to 
 my next place of abode, though I still meant to remove. 
 My class had brought a new interest into my life. The N 
 sort of study I was obliged to give to the lessons was 
 a pleasure, and the companionship of the girls became 
 a real joy to me. I gave them much time. Except to 
 the week-night services I seldom went out in the even- 
 ings, that I might be at home to them. The class rapidly/ 
 grew in numbers, and this gave me more to do, but the 
 doing was delightful. The confidences of my girls were 
 very precious to me. I was often amazed at their 
 
 113 H
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 clearness of thought, their fresh insight, and the high 
 aims that inspired them. Some of them were living very 
 beautiful lives at home. It was no unusual thing for 
 them to be earning not only their own living but also a 
 good part of that of the family ; to work all day in the 
 factories, and do the house cleaning in between. I could 
 tell some interesting stories of them. 
 
 Of course, now that I was not teaching every day 
 I had more time for writing, and my class helped me to 
 a good many ideas. It was to them I owed the series 
 of articles written expressly for elder daughters and 
 senior scholars, under the general title of " Girlhood." 
 These were put into a volume, and I had the great 
 happiness of presenting a copy to each member of my 
 class. " Girlhood " proved by far my most successful 
 book. In 1869 it had reached the fourth edition. 
 Mothers and fathers bought it for their girls, many of 
 whom have now become mothers themselves, and are 
 still buying it for their daughters. A new and revised 
 edition, making the twenty-fifth thousand was published 
 in 1895. 
 
 It was good for me to be in the midst of so much 
 
 'young life. I am sure that I wrote my verses all the 
 
 better, because I knew my girls would read, and many 
 
 would learn them. I was often congratulated upon my 
 
 N constituency of readers. "Are you not proud," said a 
 
 gentleman to me once, "that probably two hundred 
 
 thousand people read your writings every week ? " I 
 
 was almost stunned ; to me that was too great a thought ! 
 
 I was certainly very proud to be connected with The 
 
 Christian World, but large numbers are vague things, 
 
 114
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 and such figures frightened me. Happily human nature 
 is much the same everywhere. Sorrow and difficulty, 
 joy and pleasure, active days and peaceful nights are 
 for all. No writer can express more than he himself 
 sees and feels, and to be brought into close sympathy 
 with, say, a hundred average persons was a great help 
 to me, as it would have been to any one, whose life work 
 was to see and feel and express. 
 
 In 1871 my sister, with her husband and family, 
 came to settle in Northampton. I lived with them, and 
 had the advantage of a delightfully large sitting-room. 
 It was a pleasant room in which to write, and the work 
 of some of my busiest years was done in it. Certainly 
 this was the most formative period of my class. We 
 held there some week-evening meetings, which neither 
 they nor I can forget. My sister's room was a sanctuary 
 consecrated by the prayers of the girls. I am to-day 
 filled with joy, as I often was then, at the memory of 
 those first prayers of young Christians, which were 
 touchingly beautiful. My heart is full of unspeakable 
 gratitude for the number of girls who gave themselves 
 to Jesus at this time, and who are to-day in many places 
 and circumstances living the Christ life. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1 867 that I was persuaded to 
 take this class. In 1882 there was published in The 
 Sunday School Times a picture of the class and the 
 teacher, the latter looking like a poor widow with a 
 huge family, and very sad about it. It was supple- 
 mented by the following article. I am sorry to have 
 forgotten who wrote it if I ever knew but it gives, 
 better than I could myself, so much information that
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 perhaps it may be inserted here, though I am afraid it 
 is very egotistical to do it. 
 
 "MARIANNE FARNINGHAM'S CLASS., 
 
 "Keeping the promise made in our last number, when 
 giving the portraits of Marianne Farningham and a section of 
 her class, we now proceed to dwell at greater length upon this 
 ' labour of love. The class of young women conducted by our 
 esteemed contributor, Marianne Farningham, numbers some 
 180 or 200 young women in all. Its beginnings were but 
 small. It originally comprised a class of some sixteen senior 
 girls, whose teacher was compelled to give up through ill-health. 
 Marianne Farningham was asked to take it. Her experience 
 having up to that time been confined to infant classes, she 
 gave a decided negative to the request. Pressure from the 
 superintendent seemingly failed, but, after some hesitancy, she 
 agreed to take the class, until another, as she thought, more 
 suitable person could be found. Happily, the ' more suitable ' 
 person never was found. The Lord had already blessed her 
 pen to many a sorrowing, despondent soul, had, through her 
 bright and glowing poetry, cheered and brightened many a 
 Christian life, and now He was to fashion her for another work. 
 With her own characteristic modesty, under the veil of semi- 
 anonymity, she has described her own feelings the first Sunday 
 she began her work in this, to her, new department in the 
 Master's Vineyard. 'The first Sunday,' she says, 'was a 
 memorable one to the teacher.' She was a very little woman, 
 and exceedingly nervous, while some of the girls were tall, and 
 evidently ready to ' quiz.' The impression left on her mind 
 was that she had failed ; and she says, ' It may well be imagined 
 that the teacher, covered with shame and humiliation, hastened 
 home to find solace in tears.' If it were a failure, it was a 
 blessed failure, for it was the beginning of a work which has 
 again and again received the Divine approval in the happiest 
 
 116
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 results. Her first thoughts were of relinquishment, but better 
 ones prevailed ; and in the strength of Christ, and with more 
 careful preparations, she again proceeded to her task. The 
 second Sunday was happier; and so with increasing experience, 
 and a profounder sense of the nearness of the Master, the work 
 became ultimately a great happiness, though not untinged with 
 an occasional sense of failure and disappointment. The work 
 grew upon her, until it became what all true-hearted Sunday 
 school work must become : an earnest yearning for the salva- 
 tion of her scholars, an intense hungering for souls. She was 
 not satisfied with the single Sunday lesson, she sought to make 
 the acquaintance of her girls in everyday life, and this developed 
 into a regular weekly meeting. Established first as a prayer- 
 meeting, in which the young women sought communion with 
 the Master in the encouraging, strengthening atmosphere of 
 Divine fellowship, it ultimately assumed a more elastic character. 
 Religious experiences were interchanged, Bible readings were 
 given, and conversational discussions took place on the applica- 
 tion of Christian principles to everyday life ; for instance : 
 ' What Amusements are Proper for Christian Girls ? ' ' What/ 
 Obligations attend Church Membership ? ' How far should 
 Christian Girls follow the Fashions in Dress ? ' ' Is it ever 
 right for Christian Girls to marry Men who are Upright and 
 Moral, but not Christians ? ' It is easy to see how helpful 
 these things would be to the young women, and what a lofty 
 tone would be imparted to their daily life. Miss Farningham 
 feels that ' the success which has attended her labours is almost 
 entirely due to the intercourse which she has held with the 
 girls during the week, since it was in that way that close friend- 
 ships were formed and impressions made.' 
 
 " The class is part of the Sunday school organizations in 
 connection with the College Street Baptist Church, North- 
 ampton, of which the Rev. John Turland Brown, one of the 
 ex-presidents of the Baptist Union, is pastor. Year after year 
 
 117
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 it contributes its quota to the roll of Church members. The 
 large staff of teachers engaged at College Street is constantly 
 recruited from its ranks. The numbers fluctuate slightly, for 
 there are removals by death, girls leave the town, or get 
 married. Nevertheless, the vacancies are filled, and the 
 numbers are substantially maintained. 
 
 " A peculiarity of the class is that it is not confined to one 
 section of the religious community. It contains young women 
 belonging to every section of the Protestant Church of Christ, 
 from the Established Church of England to the Unitarian 
 Christian Church. They come, too, from various classes, and 
 are engaged in all sorts of occupations. The majority of the 
 girls work in the shoe-factories of Northampton, but there are 
 also pupil teachers, assistant mistresses in board schools, artists, 
 music teachers, drapers' assistants, milliners, etc., and perhaps 
 half a dozen servants. The most varied tastes and the most 
 varied pursuits are represented. Whatever community, what- 
 ever class they belong to, or whatever their occupation, they 
 are all equally welcome. They all feel they have in their 
 teacher a loving friend, a wise counsellor, one who never 
 ceases to think of them, care for them, and would do anything 
 in her power to promote their temporal and eternal welfare. It 
 is her joy to make her girls happy ; and a tender love and a 
 deeply sympathetic nature are prime elements in her success 
 as she ' allures to brighter worlds and leads the way.' She 
 knows how to rejoice with them in their joys, and to weep with 
 them when they weep. At their weddings she is ever a welcome 
 guest, and in the hour of sickness or of death she is there to 
 comfort and to bless. They are able to feel, too, that her 
 house is in a sense theirs too. A week or two since it was 
 on December 17 a hundred of them met at her house to 
 celebrate her birthday, and a glorious time it was. They 
 never forget her birthday ; it is an occasion when she always 
 receives loving mementoes from them. Those 'at homes,' 
 
 118
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 too, held week by week, year after year, have been happy 
 experiences of home life, sanctified by the purest Christian joys. 
 "Although her many lecturing engagements during the 
 winter season make it oftentimes inconvenient to get home for 
 the Sunday class, it must be a long distance which will keep 
 Miss Farningham away. Her absence is as great a disappoint- 
 ment to herself as it is to ' her girls,' and it is not easy to find 
 a substitute for so peculiarly powerful a ministry. It is one of 
 the hopes of the future that the friends at College Street will 
 be able to erect a class-room or lecture-room worthy of the 
 class." 
 
 This most kind and flattering appreciation omits 
 several details and incidents which may be mentioned. 
 There was one very sad year in our town, when for 
 several months there was a terrible strike and lock-out 
 among the shoe-factories. Many of my girls, who had 
 no part in the struggle, suffered from it very greatly. 
 No new dresses were bought that year, no holidays 
 taken, and though the girls were very brave, one could 
 see from their faces and general appearance how hard it 
 was to live. My heart ached as I stood before them on 
 Sundays, and tried to give the lessons as usual. One 
 day a few of the girls in happier circumstances called to 
 see me about it. " We have been thinking," said the 
 spokeswoman of the little party, "that perhaps we 
 might lend our girls who are out of work some money 
 to tide them over this bad time. They look so thin 
 and sad that we cannot bear to see them. We know 
 they would not take money as a gift, and some of them 
 are too independent to be asked many times to dinner, 
 but you may be able to persuade them to accept a 
 
 119
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 loan." " I will try," said I ; " it is a very happy thought 
 of yours." The next morning, before I had left my 
 room, a little packet containing twenty sovereigns was 
 brought to me. On Sunday I spoke about it in the 
 class, and begged the girls who were affected by the 
 strike to avail themselves of this proof of the love of 
 their class-mates, and asked them to call on me for a 
 loan next day. Nobody came, either then or during the 
 week. On the following Sunday I begged them not to 
 be too proud to use a little of this money. " It is just 
 the same as if your own sister lent it," I said ; " and 
 none but you and I will know who has it. You can 
 return it when the strike is over, and nobody be any 
 the wiser." But there was no response from these fifty 
 high-spirited and independent young women, who looked 
 paler and thinner than ever. I have admired them 
 since, but I felt rather vexed with them at the time. 
 One girl especially, whose circumstances I knew, 
 troubled me, and I appealed personally to her. " No, 
 thank you, Miss Hearn. It is very kind of those girls, 
 whoever they may be, but I would rather not take the 
 money. I had a little in the savings-bank, and I think 
 I can hold on." " Now, Annie," I said impatiently, 
 "don't be stupid. You shall take it," and I forced a 
 sovereign into her hand, which she repaid directly she 
 was at work again. Eventually two others had a 
 sovereign each, one was a married woman whose 
 husband was out of work, and the other a girl who had 
 a widowed mother to keep as well as herself. 
 
 When the girls were again in full work we estab- 
 lished a Thrift Society. A gentleman offered to give 
 
 1 20
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 us five per cent, on the money. We put it to the girls 
 that I, and one of their number, whom we knew to be a 
 very well-off person, would be guarantors, and then we 
 appointed a treasurer and secretary, and a time for the 
 money to be deposited. A good beginning was made, 
 and I, being exceedingly busy, banished the subject 
 from my mind. After some months the secretary asked 
 me if I knew how much had been paid in, and I was 
 surprised to hear that it amounted to several hundred 
 pounds. Later still the gentleman who received the 
 money told me he could not go on paying five per cent, 
 for the sum was now over a thousand. So I had to 
 look into it. I found that only a comparatively small 
 number of girls belonged to the Thrift Society, but 
 some of them had taken their money from the savings- 
 banks, naturally taking advantage of the higher interest 
 offered. We made a rule that no girl should have 
 more than twenty pounds in our society, but our banker 
 declined to take charge of the money any longer. 
 What was to be done with it ? I did not know. It is 
 very little, alas ! that I have ever known or understood 
 about money. I went to London to consult Mr. Tre- 
 sidder, who had a large class of young men, and 
 also talked over the matter with Mr. Bramwell, who 
 knew all about temperance, thrift, and other societies. 
 In the end, however, we had to give up our own. The x 
 girls who had saved large sums joined building 
 societies, and several of them girls no longer are 
 living in their own houses. 
 
 For a long time we had a collection once a month x 
 to create a fund to enable us to make a little present to 
 
 121
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 any of our number who might be sick and poor. The 
 gift was never less than half a sovereign. I shall not 
 forget taking it to one girl. "Why," she said, with 
 radiant face, " it is like a week's wages ! " 
 
 Also we had for some time a furnished cottage in 
 the country, to which the girls could go for week-ends, 
 or when they needed rest, quiet, and fresh air. 
 
 For a good many years we had an annual holiday 
 together, for as many as could afford it. It came about 
 in this way. I was in North Wales, when I met our 
 superintendent, Mr. Parker Gray. "Don't you wish 
 your young people could see this ? " he asked. Indeed 
 I did ! and as I said the words the idea flashed into my 
 mind that perhaps it would not be impossible. So on 
 my return I talked to the girls about it, and asked 
 them if they would care to put by a shilling a week 
 during the year for the purpose. Some of them were 
 very pleased. They thought the shillings would be 
 safer if they gave them into the keeping of another, and 
 we appointed to the office Miss Lacey, the sister of Mrs. 
 James Hirst Hollowell, who also was one of my girls. 
 When winter came and the snow was on the ground, I 
 believe some had their shillings back, but when next 
 summer came we were able to make up our first party. 
 I cannot remember the number, but think we were 
 about fifteen. We had a very good time. Some of the 
 girls had never seen the sea holidays were not so easy 
 and common then as now and they were delightfully, 
 beautifully happy. To my mind their faces were the 
 loveliest sights in Hastings that year. Of course we 
 had singing and prayer together, and read some verses 
 
 122
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 from the Book which we all loved. " What made you 
 first want to be a Christian ? " I asked a girl who after- 
 wards wished to join the Church. " It was at Hastings," 
 she said, "when I saw how kind and sweet and glad 
 Christian girls could be." 
 
 I think we must have had about twenty of these 
 holidays together. We went to Brighton, Ventnor, 
 Llandudno, Ramsgate, Douglas, Edinburgh, and several 
 times to Barmouth. The largest party I ever conducted 
 was between seventy and eighty, when the London and 
 North Western Railway Company, with the Cambrian, 
 gave us tickets at half-tourist fares, twelve shillings and 
 sixpence for ten days, and a Barmouth friend fed and 
 housed us for sixteen shillings. Everybody was good 
 to us, and because of our numbers coach-rides and 
 steamer trips were possible to all. I was always the 
 happiest of the band. Very little of the burden or 
 responsibility fell on me, for I had such a splendid 
 committee of helpers among my girls. God bless 
 them ! 
 
 It was in 1887 that the College Street friends and 
 others gave us a class-room. It had been rather/ 
 difficult to get it. Some of the moneyed friends did 
 not altogether sympathize with my methods, and the 
 class was too large to please everybody. It was 
 augmented mostly from the outside, though one other 
 class, on the resignation of the teacher, was allowed to 
 join us. But we had many staunch, good friends. Our 
 minister, Mr. Brown, was ever kind and sympathetic, 
 as were most of the deacons, especially Mr. Thomas 
 Pressland, who was always my friend, and who instituted 
 
 123
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 a plan for getting donations under the heading of " Miss 
 Hearn's Sovereign Friends." The girls themselves col- 
 lected more than a hundred pounds towards the building 
 fund, and we partly furnished the room ourselves. It 
 was very nicely furnished, with chairs instead of benches, 
 and a carpet instead of bare boards ; and in due time we 
 put into it a piano and an organ. Mr. Edward Crossley 
 of Halifax, kindly presented us with a carpet from his 
 manufactory ; but the greater part of the money for our 
 furnishing came in a delightful way. By the courtesy 
 of our good friend, the editor, a plea for help was 
 inserted in The Christian World. The response was 
 astonishing. Kind letters containing money came to 
 me in a veritable shower, and in a week or two I 
 received sixty pounds, which enabled us to enjoy the 
 comforts and luxuries of our room, free of debt. 
 
 /Later we had a library, for which we were chiefly 
 indebted to the generous kindness of Mr. Clarke, who 
 gave us all the books of Emma Jane Worboise, and 
 many others. He also inserted in The Christian World 
 a request for gifts of books, asking friends " not to send 
 any sort of rubbish, nor too many theological volumes, 
 but pleasant, readable, instructive books, suitable for the 
 reading of intelligent young people." The first to respond 
 were Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton, who sent a hand- 
 some contribution of excellent books. So did the 
 Religious Tract Society, Messrs. Nelson & Sons, the 
 
 ^Sunday School Union, and others. 
 
 The public opening of the class-room was a grand 
 occasion, and Christopher Crayon came down to describe 
 it for The Christian World, and to speak at the meeting. 
 
 124
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 The Rev. J. T. Brown presided, and never was president 
 more genial, warm-hearted, and eloquent. Several 
 ministers of the town showed their sympathy and 
 appreciation by their presence. Christopher Crayon 
 gave us one of his typical addresses, full of wit, humour, 
 and good sense. 
 
 The first meeting, however, held in the new room 
 was before the formal opening. It was a prayer-meeting 
 held by the girls themselves, and I think this was its 
 real consecration. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 I read this chapter to one who was for a long time 
 a member of my Bible class. " This is not enough ; it 
 tells too little," she said. She wrote the following 
 tribute ; and I add it, although I think it is full of love's 
 exaggerations, because I know it will please many of my 
 old girls, who may probably read this autobiography. 
 
 A TRIBUTE FROM ONE OF THE CLASS 
 
 "It was in May of the year 1874, and when I had 
 just joined the Church, that one of my girl - friends 
 invited me to go with her to Miss Hearn's week-evening 
 Bible class. I said, ' Thank you ; I should love to 
 go.' Miss Hearn was no stranger to me, for when I 
 was a child of three my mother took me to the infant 
 school of which she was the mistress, and my love for 
 her began then. When I was removed to the girls' 
 department I no longer called her 'Governess/ but 
 the sight of her as she daily went through the street 
 where my home was on her way to school, always sent 
 
 125 
 At
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 a thrill of gladness through my childish heart, though 
 I am not sure that she recognized me. 
 
 "Miss Hearn's week-evening class was held in her 
 own sitting-room, a large room on the first floor of her 
 sister's house. When my friend and I got to the top 
 of the staircase leading to the room, the 'little teacher,' 
 as she was often lovingly called, was standing ready to 
 receive her girls. I remember that she wore a grey 
 dress which matched her curls (her hair was grey when 
 she was still quite young) and that her hair was held in 
 place by a band of ribbon velvet ; a lace collar fastened 
 by a brooch was her only adornment I was a little 
 shy, but when she looked at me and said with the love 
 in her voice and eyes which drew everybody to her, 
 ' Why, it's A. B.,' and took my hand in hers, I was 
 happy at once. I was taken to her bedroom to remove 
 my hat as if I had been an invited guest, and, since, I 
 have thought what work somebody must have had to 
 put that bedroom and sitting-room right every week 
 after such a large party ! But Miss Hearn's sister was 
 second only to our teacher in her kindness to us. 
 
 "That night there must have been at least sixty 
 present sometimes there were as many as eighty. 
 The girls sat on chairs, couch, hassocks, floor every 
 place where they could accommodate themselves. We 
 had a prayer-meeting in the twilight and ten girls 
 prayed. Simple, earnest, wonderful prayers they were, 
 which stirred me to the very depths and made me long 
 to live a more entirely consecrated life. I don't 
 remember what hymns we sang, but no doubt 'At 
 even, ere the sun was set.' ' How sweet the name of 
 
 126
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 Jesus sounds,' and ' Lord, a little child of Thine ! ' were 
 among them ; for these were favourites which we sang 
 many times and in all sorts of places. 
 
 " They were golden days for me which followed that 
 first meeting. I was there every Tuesday, and whether 
 we had a Bible lesson, or a ' Conversation ' meeting, or 
 read ' The Pilgrim's Progress,' I always went home with 
 a renewed determination to live nearer my Saviour. I 
 don't know how long the class had been formed when 
 I joined it, but some of those who had been longest in 
 it were Christian young women of the highest type. 
 One came from a draper's establishment, and brought 
 ten in her train, and another brought six or seven. 
 Some were workers in shoe-factories, and most had such 
 refined faces and gentle ways that only the grace of 
 God can give. Many had pocket editions of the Gospel 
 of St. John 'little John's' they called them with 
 which they began, continued, and ended their days of 
 work. And how merry they were ! There was a little 
 inner circle of girls who used to stay behind and chat 
 with their teacher after the others had gone, and though 
 perhaps that same teacher had hours of reading and 
 writing to do before she could go to bed, she never 
 seemed hurried, and was always ready to be amused or 
 sympathetic, only she liked them to be at home by ten 
 o'clock. It was this little inner circle of girls who used 
 to hold special meetings for prayer whenever trouble or 
 sickness visited any member of the class, or any one 
 dear to our teacher, and always we were sure that our 
 prayers were heard, by the blessings which followed 
 them. 
 
 127
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 " I had a class of my own on Sundays, and so missed 
 the privilege of hearing Miss Hearn's Bible lessons, but 
 there were often special occasions when I was in her 
 company. It was when the races gave many of us a 
 holiday that she took us into the woods, and I saw 
 primroses growing for the first time. Then there were 
 excursions into a pine-wood on summer Saturday 
 afternoons. One winter there were several little parties 
 to which Miss Hearn invited batches of girls who 
 worked together, or were especially friendly. Then the 
 house was ransacked to provide dresses and things for 
 charades and other games. There were, too, the birth- 
 day parties on December i/th, to which old girls were 
 invited, and which every year grew bigger. When Miss 
 Hearn, in after years, took a good-sized house, two 
 sitting-rooms, study, and kitchen overflowed with guests, 
 and later still, when we had a large room of our own 
 attached to College Street chapel, it and the large school- 
 room were required to accommodate those who came. 
 At all these times we brimmed over with happiness and 
 mirth, yet we always went away uplifted. 
 
 "If we were in any difficulty or trouble, and needed 
 advice or comfort, our teacher was at home on Saturday 
 afternoons always, and if our difficulties and troubles 
 were not all removed, the love which was given us with- 
 out stint made us strong to meet them. 
 
 " I think it was because Miss Hearn so believed in 
 girls, and always saw their good side, that they were 
 encouraged to be their best selves. At the same time 
 they all knew she expected them to be upright, true, and 
 generous. When any of our number left the town she 
 
 128
 
 My Bible Class 
 
 tried to keep in touch with them by letters, though with 
 so much literary work this was not easy. For years, how- 
 ever, she wrote a separate New Year's letter to every 
 member of the class ; but the strain of writing a hundred 
 different letters proved at last too much, and then a 
 printed message to all took their place. 
 
 " Another bond by which we were held to our friend 
 was her expressed need of us. ' Pray for me,' she often 
 said, and we did, and some of us, perhaps many, pray 
 for her still. 
 
 " It was not until I had reached womanhood that I 
 was able to join in the holiday by the sea which for 
 several years Miss Hearn arranged for those who could 
 afford the small sum necessary. I think there were 
 fifteen in the first party I joined, and we were like a big 
 happy family. There was no restraint, we were trusted 
 to behave as Christian young women should ; delightful 
 outings were planned for us, and all sorts of amusing 
 incidents, that I have not time to relate, occurred to us. 
 It was in the Isle of Man, and when Miss Hearn must 
 have been still on the sunny side of fifty, that we went 
 in search of osmunda ferns. We found them growing in 
 an enclosed field, and an old man offered to dig some up 
 for us. Their big roots, and the soil upon them, made 
 them heavy, and when our teacher was about to shoulder 
 one the old man said, ' Let the young 'uns carry 'em, 
 ma'am ; you baint as young as you used to be.' ' No,' 
 said she ; ' how old do you think I am ? ' 'Be you 
 seventy ? ' said he ; ' I'm seventy.' 
 
 "When we paid our first visit to Barmouth, Miss 
 Hearn went to inquire the cost of weekly tickets to 
 
 129 I
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 enable us to cross the toll-bridge over the estuary. Half 
 a crown was the price named. ' Dear me ! ' said our 
 leader. ' Then what shall I do with my seventeen ? ' 
 ' Have you got seventeen ? ' said the official, looking 
 sympathetically at the little grey-haired woman in front 
 of him. 
 
 "There were several holiday parties at Barmouth, 
 which we grew to love more and more after it became 
 a kind of second home to our teacher. The last party 
 went in 1896, and a few years later Miss Hearn felt it 
 necessary to give up the class to which she had devoted 
 so much love and strength and time. Of the hundreds 
 who had belonged to it, some have been called to 
 higher service, many have already passed their jubilee, 
 and are mothers of daughters, to whom they talk with 
 never-ceasing affection of the friend and teacher who 
 was an inspiration to them in the days of their girl- 
 hood, and some are trying to help girls not their own, 
 as they themselves were helped." 
 
 130
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 NEW WORK 
 
 IN 1876 a gentleman, Mr. McAllum, wrote to me from 
 Newcastle-on-Tyne, asking if I would write a book 
 on Grace Darling. The idea pleased me greatly. I / 
 had never attempted biography, and this would bring 
 me a change of work. Naturally, the brave girl of the 
 North had appealed to my imagination, and the Fame 
 Isles, Bamborough Castle, and the great North Sea, 
 though as yet I had not beheld them, had often called 
 to me. To write a book about them was another thing, 
 however. I found that he wished me to write under my^ 
 nom de plume, and I felt that I could not do so with 
 honour, as it belonged by right to The Christian World 
 and the firm of Messrs. James Clarke & Co. Moreover,/ 
 I could not make a book out of the little I knew about 
 Grace Darling. 
 
 Mr. McAllum replied that he had plenty of material 
 which he would send me, and he offered me a good 
 price for that which I knew would prove pleasant work. 
 Also, though reluctantly, he agreed that I should write 
 under another name. We had some discussion on this 
 point, and in the end selected about the weakest we could 
 have found " Eva Hope " with the understanding that
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 subsequent books I might write for the publishers 
 (Adam & Co., of Gateshead) should appear as " By the 
 Author of ' Grace Darling.' " 
 
 The heroine of the Fame Isles was a delightful 
 person with whom to make closer acquaintance. Letters 
 and newspaper cuttings helped me to know and under- 
 stand her. A relative an aunt, I think gave me a 
 lock of Grace Darling's hair, and some particulars of 
 her family reached me, so that I had a most enjoyable 
 time while writing my first biography. The book had a 
 very large sale, both at the time and afterwards. At 
 the Fisheries Exhibition, when, if I remember rightly, 
 the boat was on view in which Grace and her father 
 went out to do the doughty deed, large numbers of my 
 book were sold. 
 
 I was next invited to write a volume on David 
 Livingstone, and some books on Africa, already pub- 
 lished by Messrs. Adam & Co., were sent me. The 
 brave hero was on people's hearts and in their minds at 
 this time, and everything about him was eagerly read. 
 It was not so very long since his body was buried in 
 Westminster Abbey, and people had not ceased talking 
 of the time of anxiety when it was not known whether 
 he was dead or alive, and Stanley courageously obeyed 
 the terse behest of The New York Herald, " Go and find 
 Livingstone." 
 
 The next biography was " Our Queen," and in this 
 my niece collaborated with me, so that afterwards the 
 volumes were " By the Authors of ' Our Queen.' " 
 Always I had an affectionate regard for good Queen 
 Victoria, and it was pleasant to us to go over the 
 
 132
 
 New Work 
 
 incidents of her life, and write them in simple form, so 
 that the volume might be suitable for school prizes. It 
 and those which followed were much used in connection 
 with the " Pleasant Sunday Afternoon," which was soon 
 after inaugurated. 
 
 " Is Gordon Safe ? " This was the title of some 
 verses which I wrote for The Christian World when the 
 country was full of suspense concerning that brave and 
 lonely man who went forth at the bidding of the Govern- 
 ment to Khartum, undeterred by fear of violence or 
 death. The verses brought me a letter of thanks from 
 the sister of General Gordon, who offered to lend me 
 some of his diaries and other writings. I had been 
 already asked to write for our series the life of General 
 Gordon, and this opened the way, and lent additional 
 interest to the work. I had heard of Gordon's work 
 among the boys at Gravesend, and had read of his 
 marvellous achievements in China, so that I was not 
 quite unprepared for this work. 
 
 " New World Heroes," which contained biographical 
 sketches of Lincoln and Garfield, made another volume ; 
 and yet another bore the title of "Queens of Literature," 
 in which were appreciations of Harriet Martineau, 
 Charlotte Bronte, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, with 
 others. 
 
 For the most part, these books were written in 
 the reading-room of the British Museum, so that I 
 might avail myself of books of reference as I required/- 
 them. My experience there was very happy, the reading- 
 room being a charming place in which to work. It 
 made me feel that I had some small part with the great 
 
 133
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 company of literary men and women whose names I 
 knew, and whose faces I occasionally saw bending over 
 the books they were studying. This work at the Museum 
 necessitated an occasional residence in London ; and 
 this was delightful, because I knew London very little, 
 and I had now the first opportunity of my life to visit 
 some of its interesting sights, and to watch, as far as 
 I could, the people and their doings in the metropolis. 
 The Museum work was not a great mental strain, for 
 subject and material were ready to my hand, and I had 
 only to select facts and describe them in my own 
 language. The later volumes were published by the 
 firm of Walter Scott, from whom I ever received kind 
 and generous treatment. Altogether, therefore, this 
 work formed a very pleasant interlude, and my sister 
 was with me in London as often as was possible. 
 
 I was naturally most anxious that the writing of 
 these books should in no way interfere with my per- 
 manent work for Messrs. James Clarke & Co., and I do 
 not think it did. My contributions were at the same 
 time appearing in all their papers, and although no 
 doubt I was, then and always, doing too much to do it 
 well, that which I did at the time seems to me not 
 worse, nor much less, than usual. 
 
 As I look back upon my work during those busy 
 years I am amazed at its quantity. In The Christian 
 World, besides a set of verses, and a prose article on 
 some general subject, I was writing every week some- 
 thing for the children, such as " Chats by the Sea," 
 " Talks in the Country," and " Short Stories." In The 
 Sunday School Times I was afraid the readers would 
 
 134
 
 New Work 
 
 have too much of Marianne Farningham, and omitted 
 the name from some of my productions. I wrote several 
 serial stories for children which were published in The 
 Christian World Magazine, and some small things for 
 Happy Hours, which journal was afterwards absorbed in 
 The Family Circle. 
 
 One year I was feeling very unhappy on the subject 
 of capital punishment. Something had occurred, I do 
 not exactly remember what, but I balieve it was the 
 execution of a man who was afterwards proved innocent. 
 It so took possession of me that I went away into the 
 country and wrote a story which I hoped would do a 
 little toward influencing public opinion on behalf of the 
 abolition of the death penalty ; a vain hope, unhappily 
 since it still remains in force. It was in the springtime, 
 and most of the story was written out-of-doors, a pleasant 
 condition for work, which all my life I have frequently 
 adopted. When I took the story to Mr. Clarke I 
 suggested that it might be well to bring out summer 
 numbers as well as the Christmas special ones of The 
 Christian World. Summer numbers are very common 
 and popular to-day, but thirty years ago they were 
 scarcely known. Mr. Clarke brought out my story in two 
 special holiday numbers. It was thus announced : "A new 
 story, of great dramatic interest, is about to be issued 
 in two special numbers of The Christian World" It 
 occupied seventy-five columns. The title was " Summer 
 Clouds, or Storm and Sunshine." The hero of the story 
 was Frank Linnitt, a Cornish lad, who was much beloved 
 by the fisher-folk, to whom he preached. He went to 
 London and became the pastor of a church, working 
 
 US
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 indefatigably among the poor, and doing good in every 
 way. He spent some weeks in a Kentish hop-garden, 
 and there he had a quarrel with a man who had insulted 
 a girl. After a great struggle with him, the man dis- 
 appeared, and Linnitt was suspected of having murdered 
 him. He was arrested, and eventually tried and found 
 guilty, the man, who was not dead, appearing too late to 
 save him. The story is very sensational all through, 
 and the failure of Linnitt's friends and his church to get 
 a reprieve is, I think, as I re-read the story in cold 
 blood, really heartrending. The papers containing it 
 had a large sale. Indeed, everybody seemed reading it. 
 I one day sat quietly in a railway carriage, in which 
 three copies were being perused. As we came to the 
 end of our journey one lady exclaimed, " Oh, horrible ! " 
 another said, " She has not let him be hung, surely ? 
 Then I won't read another word ! " The papers were 
 crumpled together, and tossed on one side, and I heard 
 my work criticized in no measured terms. 
 
 In 1873 two of my books were published, "The 
 Clarence Family," a story for children, which had run 
 through The Christian World Magazine, and " Leaves 
 ^from Elim," another book of poems which contains those 
 which I myself think best, and which were written 
 through the years of some of my happiest spiritual 
 experiences. 
 
 At this time the great controversy on eternal punish- 
 ment was going on in the columns of The Christian 
 World, led by Dr. Cox and the Rev. Edward White and 
 others. Then there was a movement toward a broader 
 outlook over the religious world, and a more generous 
 
 136
 
 New Work 
 
 theology. Dr. Duff, in his Presidential Address as 
 Moderator in the General Assembly of the Free Church 
 of Scotland, had referred to it, and there was a bold 
 leader in The Christian World of May 3, 1873 : 
 
 " Our age, impetuous, daring, headstrong, requires to be 
 admonished as to the duties of reverent faith and patient 
 obedience, but it has reached forward to truth which was not 
 known to our fathers, and this truth it is bound to accept and 
 make the most of. It has found that neither the Bible nor 
 common sense sanctions the whole figment of universal, verbal, 
 infallible inspiration. It has formed expanded conceptions of 
 the Divine Love and the freedom of the Gospel Offer. It has 
 divested itself of many hard, un-Christlike tenets of the theology 
 of blood, and brimstone, and fire ; and among other things it 
 has learned to believe that many an one, against whom priests 
 and theological doctors gnashed their teeth as heretics, may 
 have been in the past, and may be in the present, Christ's 
 dearest children. We cannot help thinking that there are some 
 things regarded as heresy which ought rather to be characterized 
 as precious and glorious truth." 
 
 The effect which these startling words had upon 
 their readers and the Christian world generally can 
 scarcely be imagined to-day, and is not for me to deal 
 with. The effect they had upon me at first was to 
 nearly break my heart. Nothing that has ever come 
 into my life has made me more sorry, or more 
 full of anxiety ; but presently my mind grew steady, 
 and peace came to me with quietness. I am afraid 
 that I acted a coward's part. I was so busy that I 
 resolved not to spare the time, at present, to try to 
 solve the great problems for myself. Stronger brains 
 
 137
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 than mine were dealing with them, and hearts that 
 I knew were as loyal to truth. "The larger hope" 
 had already attracted me, and I decided to wait, 
 hoping and praying that the light which it was neces- 
 sary for me to have would come to me gradually. 
 So I laid down the burden, and found there was 
 nothing to be afraid of. 
 
 In the meantime my work was all around me, and 
 I turned to it and " did the next thing " as well as I 
 could, finding it, as we all do, the best specific for 
 trouble and anxiety. 
 
 I had rather a bad time, though, with certain friends 
 and advisers, who thought that I ought not to retain my 
 connection with a paper of such broad views. Several 
 publishers made me offers, and two rather handsome 
 ones. A gentleman called to see me, a man of wealth 
 and position, who, at his wife's desire, offered me a 
 home for the rest of my life. 
 
 " Are you a child of God ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, indeed I am," I said quite confidently. 
 
 " Then do you not think that He is able to provide 
 for you ? " 
 
 " I am sure He has done so," I said. " He has given 
 me a place on the staff of The Christian World" 
 
 "But you are dishonouring Him by continuing to 
 write for this heretical paper." 
 
 " I hope not I think not," I replied. " The editor 
 leaves me absolutely free to write how and what I 
 please. He has never dictated to me, never found fault 
 with me, and I do not think he ever will. Is it not 
 possible," I said, trying to win a smile, " that a writer 
 
 133
 
 MARIANNE FARNINGHAM AT THE AGE OF FORTY.
 
 New Work 
 
 whose theology is very old-fashioned, had better continue 
 at her post ? " 
 
 But he arose in grief and anger, and left me without 
 another word. 
 
 I went on with the work in which I had been 
 interrupted, and which was too dear to me ever to be 
 given up until I should be compelled. This is the 
 way in which my work was done, when at my metho- 
 dical best, which was not by any means always. My 
 mornings were devoted to writing, though generally 
 I took time for a walk. In the afternoons I rested and 
 indulged in a short nap, and in reading. We had tea 
 early, and after it I went directly to work. These were 
 golden hours. All the best things I have produced 
 and almost all my verses were in those days written 
 from five to seven, or later in the evenings. I think I 
 must have been at that time a very rapid writer. My 
 verses came to me readily, as indeed did nearly all the 
 subjects on which I wrote. 
 
 That was the rule, but there were exceptions, and 
 I very well remember one of them. It was the day for 
 posting my usual verses for The Christian World, and 
 I could find nothing to write about. I turned over 
 the leaves of the Bible in vain. I looked out of the 
 window, but the streets and houses had no inspiration 
 for me. I went for a walk, but skies, grass and trees 
 told me nothing. I asked for light, but was con- 
 scious of no answer. I went home again, thoroughly 
 discouraged. For the first time I was, after many years, 
 afraid it would be impossible to make any rhymes for 
 the paper that week. Post-time was only an hour off, 
 
 139
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 and I was in despair. An old volume of Chambers'* 
 Journal lay on the table. I listlessly opened it and 
 read of a legend or belief of some country to the effect 
 that those whom we had helped on earth would be the 
 first to meet us as we entered heaven. The thought 
 flashed into my mind 
 
 " Will any one stand at the beautiful gate, 
 Waiting and watching for me ? " 
 
 and I sat down and wrote the verses which have perhaps 
 had more readers than anything else of mine that has 
 been printed. How often have I vainly wished I could 
 recall them ! Had half a day instead of half an hour 
 been given to them they might perhaps have been more 
 worthy of the career of usefulness and blessing accorded 
 to them. 
 
 But they were dashed off, and a friend who could 
 run caught the post for me. 
 
 During the last few years, being unable to sleep in 
 the mornings, I have utilized the fresh early hours for 
 writing. The little book " Women and their Saviour " 
 is made up of short articles so written. Many of my 
 verses have also been produced then. When the world 
 is still, or only beginning to awaken, there is opportunity 
 for reflection and meditation, of which, when feeling well 
 enough, I have tried to make the most. Fountain-pens 
 and stylographs, with the handy writing-pads of the 
 present day are great boons to me. Sometimes a 
 thought has been, I venture to believe, given to me 
 in the dawning, for most of the letters thanking me for 
 particular poems have been drawn forth by this early 
 morning work. 
 
 140
 
 New Work 
 
 My life has been very full of interests, and yet in a v 
 very real sense my work has been my life. As soon as 
 it began to dawn upon me that I was really helped to 
 write that which was acceptable and useful to people, 
 new desires possessed me. I hope that it may not be 
 considered too personal if I record the fact that, 
 inspired by this knowledge, I passed through a crisis 
 in my religious life that influenced me a good deal. 
 I mention it because it may comfort others in similar/ 
 experiences. 
 
 One Sunday evening I went into the vestry to speak 
 to a number of my girls who were about to take their 
 first communion. I was very happy ; but I am sure 
 that I needed a sharp lesson in humility, and I received it. 
 As I walked through the chapel to my pew, a strange 
 thick darkness came upon me, and encompassed my 
 soul. I was suddenly palsied with fear and doubt. 
 Something whispered to me that I had never myself 
 been converted ! Who and what was I that I dared to 
 speak and write the things that I did on such solemn 
 matters as those which were my themes ? A sickening 
 sense that I was not worthy to take the Lord's Supper 
 with His people caused me to feel that I must leave 
 the chapel ; but I trembled so much that I knew I had 
 not physical strength to reach the door. Therefore I 
 remained, not knowing what to do, and so oppressed by 
 a sense of sin that I felt almost as if I should die. I 
 think a battle was being fought for me that evening, for 
 I was too weak to fight it myself. 
 
 At last it occurred to me to ask myself what I 
 would say to any girl who told me a similar story. I 
 
 141
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 knew exactly. I should say, " It is never too late to 
 come to the Saviour for pardon. If you have never 
 before, call upon Him now in prayer and faith. He 
 casts out none. His salvation is for you, as certainly 
 as for any." And then the old hymn, which I and my 
 girls often sang, kneeling, with the twilight filling the 
 room, became my very personal prayer 
 
 "Just as I am, without one plea, 
 But that Thy blood was shed for me, 
 And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee, 
 O Lamb of God, I come." 
 
 With a deep sense of my own unworthiness, and a new 
 assurance of the blessings of forgiveness and salvation, 
 I took the communion that evening. 
 
 But the influence of the experience remained. I 
 seldom spoke of it, but it happened that my friends of 
 many years, the Rev. Joseph Wilshire and Mrs. Wilshire, 
 came to see me soon afterward, and I told him. His 
 wise counsels availed to show me how this sad experience 
 of mine might prove a permanent good to me, and 
 might even help to make me more able to comfort 
 others. I had often, sometimes perhaps too glibly, 
 told God that I would welcome any sorrow that would 
 make me a comforter and helper to others ; and I said 
 the same thing now, but more humbly and seriously 
 than before. 
 
 I think it was about this time, too, that a new and 
 glad idea of " the will of God " was given to me. I 
 often had sung, with trembling voice, the beautiful hymn 
 by Charlotte Elliott, with the refrain " Thy will be done." 
 I was half afraid to mean the things I said, though the 
 
 142
 
 New Work 
 
 same ideas were very much more poorly put in most of 
 the things I wrote in my early days. " Anywhere with 
 Jesus," which is in many hymn-books, is a case in point. 
 I meant it all, and felt that I could do anything or 
 go anywhere with Him : my mistake was in supposing 
 that He would be sure to lead me along rough and 
 dangerous places, and call me to give up all the best 
 things which He had given me. I am so thankful to 
 know better now, so that " Thy will be done " is more 
 praise than prayer. If His will be done, sorrows will be 
 blessings, pain be bearable, darkness bring Him nearer, 
 death be a friend, and only sin will be taken away. 
 Well will it be for all the world when the complete 
 answer comes to the petition, "Thy Kingdom come, 
 Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 MY FATHER 
 
 IT goes without saying that my own people were 
 deeply interested in all my work, and my father 
 especially was proud of it. 
 
 He always knew where I was and what I was doing, 
 for, from the time when I went to Northampton in 1860, 
 until he came to live with me in 1879, I wrote to him 
 every week, and saw him as often as I could. He had 
 grave doubts as to whether I was wise in giving up my 
 school, and very little confidence that I could make 
 money by my pen. I remember him saying, " Mr. Clarke 
 will not want to pay you a salary for nothing." 
 
 " No," I answered ; " I do not expect him to do so." 
 
 "Do you suppose^ then, that what you do will be 
 worth a hundred or so a year to him ? " There was a 
 very uncomplimentary doubt in my father's voice. 
 
 "He seems to think so," I said, "and he knows 
 best." 
 
 I went to Farningham that summer, to try to set his 
 mind at rest, and I wrote a story, I think " Listening for 
 the Bells," carrying my pen, ink, and paper in the little 
 box which he had made when Miss Rogers first gave me 
 lessons in writing. I used this on my knees as a sort of 
 
 144
 
 My Father 
 
 desk, and so spent delightful hours scribbling away in 
 the meadows near the river Darent, which I had always 
 loved. It was there, too, that I walked and dreamed 
 and thought through many things, for example, my 
 papers on " Young People," some articles on " Teaching," 
 and "Stories for the Children." During that year I 
 wrote for The Sunday School Times twenty-one special 
 articles on Sunday schools, which were afterwards 
 published in book form. Seeing me so busily and 
 happily employed, my father was easily persuaded that 
 I had not run too great a risk in changing my vocation. 
 The love and joy of my father's life was centred 
 in Eynsford chapel. He never missed a service which 
 it was possible for him to attend, and the years were 
 crowded with small ministries, always rendered without 
 ostentation. He never had much money to give. I 
 think he would have given it all to the cause if he had. 
 He was not a good speaker, so he was never a very 
 prominent man at the meetings, but he did all that he 
 could year after year with unchanging fidelity. My first 
 recollections of him in connection with the chapel are, 
 that when I was a very little child and grew sleepy in 
 our cosy curtained pew by the door on Sunday evenings, 
 I used to rouse up twice during the service to watch my 
 father go steadily down the aisle and snuff the candles. 
 I wondered if he would not some time snuff ont 
 out, but practice had made him adroit in the art. 
 There was another curious incident which I remember. 
 My father was always afraid of dogs. I think he would 
 have walked a mile to avoid one that was at all fierce. 
 One morning a dog strolled into the chapel and walked 
 
 145 K
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 up the aisle. It was my father's duty to try to get him 
 out. But he sat still, hoping that some one else would 
 do so. No one stirred, however, and at last my father 
 went towards the dog, slowly and timidly. It will scarcely 
 be believed that at that moment the minister was read- 
 ing the words, in Philippians iii. 2, "Beware of dogs." 
 
 A ripple of laughter went through the congregation, 
 in the midst of which my father went back to his seat 
 after seeing that the doors were well open. It was a 
 few minutes before order could be restored, and not 
 until the dog had been bodily carried out though not 
 by my father. 
 
 One pleasant official duty which fell to him was to 
 receive and welcome any stranger who might come to 
 the chapel to preach. Years after my father's death 
 ministers have told me how exceedingly kind he was 
 to them, making them feel at home and comfortable, 
 especially if they were young men. It was his duty to 
 show visitors to their seats, and sometimes he opened 
 the pew doors for those who were members, especially if 
 they were old people or very young. He had always a 
 kind and appropriate word with which to welcome those 
 who had recently joined the church. I remember on 
 one occasion when Mr. Spurgeon was preaching, how 
 happy he was in seeing the little chapel crowded out, 
 aisles and galleries filled, and groups standing around 
 the doorways. The weather was warm, and the windows 
 were open to let in air. Mr. Spurgeon was at this time 
 a very young man, and those who knew him then will 
 remember that he wore his hair parted near the middle, 
 and there was a loose lock that hung over his forehead. 
 
 146
 
 My Father 
 
 The wind ruffled this, which rather irritated him. After 
 brushing it back several times, he stopped and said : 
 " Will you kindly close that window ? " 
 
 My father rose and considered for a moment how it 
 was to be done ; clearly not from the inside, as it was a 
 physical impossibility to force his way through the 
 people to the pew over which the window was placed. 
 He managed to get through the crowd at the door, and 
 went round the outside of the chapel. But he was very 
 short, and could not reach the offending window. He 
 went into the vestry, but there was not a chair or stool 
 to be had. In the meantime Mr. Spurgeon became 
 impatient. 
 
 " Please shut that window ! " he exclaimed peremp- 
 torily. 
 
 My father had gone to the nearest house to see if he 
 could borrow a chair and a broom, with which to push 
 up the sash. Just before it was accomplished, Mr. 
 Spurgeon said, " Oh, do shut the window ! I am not like 
 Burton beer, best on draught." 
 
 Mr. Whittemore quietly explained to him that it 
 would be done directly, and thereafter, to the relief of 
 the people, the sash was pushed up. 
 
 What a day that was ! The young preacher was at 
 his best, and he talked of divine things as only the 
 Divine Teacher could have taught him. His sermon 
 was an experimental one, and contained truths such as 
 one never before heard except from aged lips, but 
 which moved the hearts of all to firmer faith and deeper 
 devotion. 
 
 Toward evening the wind sank, and the weather was 
 
 147
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 absolutely perfect. The people had increased in num- 
 bers, and the officials were wondering what to do when 
 Mr. Spurgeon settled it. 
 
 " We will not try to get them into the chapel," he 
 said. " It would be cruelty to animals. There is an 
 orchard quite near. Let us borrow that." 
 
 No sooner said than done. We sat on the green 
 grass, under the shade of the trees. A waggon was 
 brought forward to furnish Mr. Spurgeon -"with a 
 pulpit, and at six o'clock he looked down on a sea of 
 eager faces, lighted with joy and anticipation. We 
 sang " All hail the power of Jesus' Name ; " and " Crown 
 Him, crown Him " went trembling across the fields, and 
 stole up the banks and reached the hearts of the trees. 
 
 Mr. Spurgeon read the seventy-second Psalm, and 
 his beautiful voice, clear as a bell, rang out the prophetic 
 words : " His Name shall endure for ever. His Name 
 shall be continued as long as the sun. Men shall be 
 blessed in Him, and all nations shall call Him blessed." 
 I think I have seldom read the psalm since without 
 hearing his voice at the conclusion of it " Let the 
 whole earth be filled with His glory, Amen and Amen," 
 and then in other tones, which made one feel the 
 appropriateness of the sequel, " The prayers of David, 
 the son of Jesse, are ended." 
 
 Between the afternoon and evening services Mr. 
 Whittemore introduced me to Mr. Spurgeon. 
 
 "So you are the great Marianne Farningham," 
 he said. 
 
 And I replied, "And you are the great Charles 
 Spurgeon." 
 
 148
 
 My Father 
 
 After this, and the tea we had together, we were 
 friends for the rest of the years. 
 
 My father always read Mr. Spurgeon's sermons, and 
 heard them when he could. But I think that his 
 theology, as much of it as he had, was on a broader 
 basis than they. I remember a talk which I had with 
 him after I had attended the Brighton Convention "for 
 the Deepening of the Spiritual Life." These meetings 
 made a great impression on me, and I was never quite 
 the same after them. Religion was much more real to 
 me, and I perceived a little of the meaning of the 
 Higher Christian Life. When I entered the dome for 
 the first meeting, one of prayer, the people were singing 
 
 the hymn 
 
 "I need Thee every hour." 
 
 which moved me to tears of desire. This was followed by 
 
 " Sometimes I catch sweet glimpses of His face, 
 But that is all." 
 
 and later by that hymn of Monod, who was present 
 
 " Oh, the bitter shame and sorrow." 
 
 The prayers and the addresses at these meetings 
 were like nothing which I had ever heard, and to me 
 they were very illuminating. Christ as my Saviour 
 I had long known, but Christ as my King I saw for the 
 first time. During that wonderful week certain truths 
 grasped me which have not to this day loosened their 
 hold the fulness of salvation, the guidance of the 
 Spirit, the constant presence of Christ, the unreason- 
 ableness of care and anxiety, and, deeper than all, the 
 wonderful love of God so little comprehended before. 
 
 149
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 Never after did I find it possible to be afraid of 
 everlasting punishment, so assured was I that love 
 would find some other way. A great hope arose within 
 me that there might be unread meanings in some of the 
 words of the Lord Jesus, which as yet we had not fully 
 understood. In any case, I lost a burden at Brighton 
 which has never since been laid upon me, and I am 
 profoundly thankful for the joyousness which then 
 entered into my personal experience. 
 
 I see that I wrote several articles about the meetings 
 for The Christian World, especially the Women's Meet- 
 ings conducted by Mrs. Pearsall Smith ; and in the 
 verses that I wrote about that time, and afterwards there 
 was an underflow of new life. 
 
 I went back to my class and told the girls about it ; 
 and, what was almost as good, I soon took the oppor- 
 tunity of talking it all over with my father. It was a 
 great joy to find, though he was scarcely aware of it 
 himself, that his outlook was wider than that of many, 
 and that he had great hope of the world, through the 
 Life, Death, and Resurrection of our Saviour. He 
 asked me to write some special verses for him, and for a 
 friend of his on Salvation. " Bring the words and the 
 meaning into every verse, Polly," he said, " and do not 
 be afraid to use them over and over again." 
 
 My father was known among the Eynsford chapel 
 folk as the " Peacemaker." He was good at pouring 
 oil on troubled waters, and bringing reconciliation to 
 those who were at enmity. He could not bear strife, 
 and though I cannot honestly say that he was alto- 
 gether a good-tempered man, he yet was very clever at 
 
 150
 
 My Father 
 
 making other people so. He loved harmony of all 
 kinds, the wind among the wheat-ears, the whisper of 
 the trees, the songs of birds on the hedges. He 
 delighted in singing. When we were all at home what 
 times we had over the singing of hymns and songs ! 
 Sometimes my father gave out the hymns at chapel, 
 and then he was able to see the whole congregation, 
 and, although he was not a bold man, he generally 
 administered a rebuke to those who took no part in the 
 psalmody. He was very fond of flowers, and wore one 
 or two in his buttonhole almost all the year round. 
 
 During later years it became the custom for my 
 father and his wife to spend Christmas at my sister's 
 house at Northampton. It was a festival to which we 
 all looked forward with keen pleasure, but often he was 
 very unwell, and the long, cold journey tried both him 
 and Mrs. Hearn.' The last time they came together, the 
 latter, who was far from well when she started, took 
 cold on the journey, and became ill, and unable to 
 return. It was a very sad New Year, for she died at 
 the beginning of it. 
 
 As soon as matters could be arranged, my father 
 came to live with me at Northampton. He helped me 
 choose my house, and liked it all the better because it 
 was on the edge of the Common, and looked over the 
 green space to the country. He liked, too, to be near a 
 town, which was a new experience to him. He had 
 lived a very active life, and though he was now weak 
 through chronic asthma, he could not be quite happy 
 to have no occupation. During that first year of his 
 residence with me he did a little bit of work which
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 pleased him very much. He compiled a birthday text- 
 book, choosing verses of mine to go with his selection of 
 texts from the Bible. It was called " The Story of the 
 Years," and was got up to make a rather nice-looking 
 gift-book. It has long been out of print. 
 
 My father only remained two years in Northampton, 
 in the latter of which he was married. But he was 
 more or less ill all the time. The cold east winds of 
 March were more than he could bear, and during those 
 of March, 1889, he became very ill. On April 7th he 
 passed away, dying in an easy-chair in my study, where 
 he liked to be, when he found it impossible to lie down 
 in bed. 
 
 152
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 LECTURES 
 
 IT was through my Bible class that I became for a 
 few years a public speaker. Every Sunday after- 
 noon, especially before we inhabited our class-room, I 
 addressed from the platform in the chapel quite a con- 
 gregation of young women who occupied the pews. Be- 
 sides the. girls whose names were on the register, friends 
 and visitors used to come in and quietly take their 
 seats. My only stipulation was that men should not be 
 admitted ; a girl was stationed at the door to say to 
 any gentleman who might wish to come that it was not 
 a public meeting, but a girls' Bible-class. Fewer 
 visitors and strangers came after we went into the class- 
 room, but for many years the number was so large that 
 I lost most of my nervousness. 
 
 My first appearance in public was also connected 
 with the class. I was asked to read a paper at an N 
 annual meeting of the Sunday School Union on that 
 ever-recurring problem, "How to Retain Our Elder 
 Scholars." The request was that I should describe my 
 own methods, which I endeavoured to do. Mr. Clarke 
 came to hear it, and this was a pleasure to me, as was 
 also the general sympathy evoked by my paper. It 
 
 153
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 was afterwards, with some additions, made into a booklet, 
 under the title of " Who Will Take It ? " 
 
 My temerity in doing this, as in much of my other 
 work, often fills me with surprise and some shame ; but 
 perhaps a little justification was in the fact that, at least 
 in the South of England, there were at that time few 
 Sunday schools that were able to keep their hold on 
 girls and lads of from fifteen to twenty years of age, 
 and it seemed right to pass on what I thought were the 
 means by which this might be done. 
 
 I had no idea then that other public work lay 
 before me, for I was naturally shy and retiring, unused 
 to society, and not greatly desiring it. But I cannot 
 help thinking that the development of our lives is to a 
 large extent not in our own care. We may not always 
 recognize the guiding hand, but we are led, and must 
 follow. I never meant to be a public speaker, until I 
 found myself started on the career. Of course, then I 
 did the best I could, and found much pleasure in it ; but 
 my best was very poor, as no one knew better than I 
 myself. The too flattering words spoken with votes 
 of thanks to which I listened used often to make me 
 feel more sad than glad. 
 
 In 1877 there was much talk throughout the country 
 on "Women's Rights." I was vain enough to think 
 that I had something to say on the subject, and at first 
 thought I would write some articles on it ; but others 
 were doing this, and it occurred to me that if I could 
 speak my thoughts, and so deliver them, I might have 
 a public to listen. So I wrote a lecture, calling it 
 "The Women of To-day." First I asked a friend 
 
 154
 
 Lectures 
 
 living at Daventry, not far from Northampton, Mr. 
 Billingham, the schoolmaster, if he cared to make 
 arrangements for me, offering him half the profits, if 
 there were any, for his trouble. So one evening my 
 sister, my brother, his wife, and I drove to Daventry, 
 and I delivered my lecture. I was a good deal more 
 nervous than I expected to be ; but two or three things 
 were established one was that I could easily make 
 myself heard, and another that my hearers appeared to 
 be interested. There was not a large profit, but we 
 had more than enough to pay expenses. Then I wrote 
 to my lifelong friend, Mrs. Wilshire (nte Lewis), who 
 now resided at Derby. She was quite pleased with 
 the idea, and told me that Mr. William Hall would 
 make arrangements for me if I would deliver the lecture 
 in that town. In due time I went to do so. I remem- 
 ber we walked from her house to the hall, and as we 
 reached it I saw with dismay a number of carriages 
 driving up to the doors. "Oh," I exclaimed, "what 
 a pity ! There is something else going on at the same 
 time." Mrs. Wilshire drily said, " Does it not occur to 
 you that possibly the carriages have brought people to 
 hear you ? " It had not done so ; but I found that her 
 surmise was correct. The chair was to be taken by a 
 lady much respected in Derby, Mrs. Roe, and it was 
 greatly due to that fact that the hall was filled. Then 
 Mrs. Wilshire wrote to a mutual friend living in Bir- 
 mingham, Mr. Henry Chapman, and he, with the Rev. 
 Henry Jarman, a Baptist minister whom I knew, kindly 
 undertook to arrange for me there ; and they must have 
 taken considerable trouble over the arrangements. The 
 
 155
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 lecture was to be given in the room of the Young 
 Men's Christian Association. In their eagerness to do 
 the best they could, they had sold more tickets than 
 the hall could accommodate, and when I arrived there 
 was a great crowd round the door, and my two kind 
 friends were very perplexed as to what to do. I could 
 not myself get in, but had to wait outside in the 
 crowd for some time. Mr. Jarman sent a man to 
 ask me if I would repeat the lecture the next night. 
 I said " Yes," and he shouted, " Friends, don't crush ; 
 Miss Hearn will give the same lecture to-morrow 
 evening." This had not the slightest effect, for they 
 had never heard of Miss Hearn. But at last I managed 
 to send up a message to him to say, " Marianne Far- 
 ningham will repeat the lecture to-morrow." And then 
 people began quietly to retire. As they did so an old 
 lady, whose face I have never forgotten, said, with her 
 hand on my shoulder, "Oh, my dear, why, you have 
 got grey hair! God bless you." It gave me a lump 
 in my throat, for it was like a benediction, and it 
 steadied and comforted me when I began my work. 
 
 Of course, I was very thankful for the fees these 
 lectures produced, and glad that almost immediately 
 after invitations flowed in from all parts of the country. 
 Some of them were couched in very kind language, and 
 I saw to my great surprise a possibility of success. I 
 went to London to consult with Mr. Clarke, for I was 
 not sure that people would like my little bits of verse 
 and prose so well after they had seen the very plain 
 little woman who wrote them, and I should have been 
 sorry for such a result to follow. Mr. Clarke, however, 
 
 156
 
 Lectures 
 
 encouraged me to go on, and accept the invitations 
 that came to me. He said he had no doubt there were 
 many people in the country who would like to see and 
 hear me. So I commenced to lay plans for what 
 proved to be a very serious business. My determina- 
 tion was to give the lectures chiefly under the auspices 
 of local .Sunday School Unions, or other helpful 
 Societies, such as the Young Men's Christian Associa- 
 tion, hoping that they, as well as I, might receive 
 pecuniary benefit. I had a kind, good friend and com- 
 panion living with me, who was willing to accompany 
 me, and we were able to arrange dates and places so as 
 not to be obliged to travel too long distances. I resolved 
 to come home from everywhere to take my class on 
 Sunday. Happily, I am a good traveller, and in those 
 days could take successive train journeys without being 
 over-wearied, though I am afraid it was rather hard on 
 my friend. Fortunately, she was interested in that which 
 very much delighted me, she too liked seeing fresh 
 places ; and this lecturing campaign gave her the 
 opportunity. We had the best times in the north of 
 England, where Sunday schools flourish exceedingly, 
 and where I was gratified to find hosts of friends 
 of The Sunday School Times. A letter that came 
 to me from Mr. Crosland, of Huddersfield, was very 
 specially kind. "Come and stay with us, in our 
 Yorkshire homes," he wrote, "see our Sunday schools, 
 and let us drive you over our Yorkshire moors." I 
 had never seen a moor previously, and the thought 
 of the hills and the heather attracted me greatly. 
 Huddersfield was naturally one of the first towns to 
 
 157
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 which I went. Mr. and Mrs. Crosland had a daughter, 
 a sweet and very gifted girl, who afterwards married 
 the Rev. Henry Dyson, and whose books, " The Story 
 of the Trees," "Children's Flowers," "Apples and 
 Oranges," and others, published by the Religious Tract 
 Society, have delighted thousands of young people. 
 She also for some time wrote the Morning Lesson for 
 The Sunday School Times. I enjoyed the hospitality of 
 that home in Huddersfield every year as long as I con- 
 tinued my lectures. 
 
 From nearly all large towns some committee 
 sent me an invitation, and in most of them hospitality 
 was offered. The privilege was thus given to me of 
 becoming acquainted with some of the most happy 
 Nonconformist homes in the kingdom. I stayed with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Snape of Liverpool, Mr. and Mrs. Edward 
 Crossley of Halifax, Mr. and Mrs. Spark Evans of 
 Bristol, Mr. and Mrs. Slade of Leeds, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Cadbury of Birmingham, Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick of 
 Walsall, Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell of Sheffield, and others 
 too numerous to mention. With the last-named most 
 of my Continental holidays have been taken, and I 
 spend often pleasant weeks in their homes at Sheffield 
 and Grindleford, and, thanks to their kindness, have 
 been frequently driven through the beautiful dales of 
 Derbyshire. 
 
 My lectures gave me the opportunity of meeting 
 many men and women whose names are as " household 
 words" in the activities of the churches, and also of 
 coming into contact with much of their life and work. 
 
 The lecturing tours, too, provided me with a large 
 158
 
 Lectures 
 
 number of subjects for papers in The Christian World. 
 Under the general headings of " Christian Work in the 
 Provinces," and " Towns and their Trades," I wrote two 
 series of articles, such as "Mission Work in Leeds," 
 " Sunday Schools at Huddersfield," " The Orphans at 
 Halifax," " The Young Women's Christian Association 
 at Bath," and " The Children's Hospital at Liverpool." 
 I saw biscuits made at Reading, alpaca at Sir Titus 
 Salt's works, china at Worcester, cutlery at Sheffield, 
 cotton goods in Lancashire, woollen materials in York- 
 shire, carpets in Halifax, shipbuilding at Sunderland, 
 hosiery at Leicester, lace at Nottingham, and many 
 other works in many other places. Always very kind 
 courtesy was shown me by the large employers of 
 labour, and I became somewhat acquainted with the 
 workers themselves. I heard the girls sing as they 
 went through the streets with shawls over their heads, 
 as only North-country girls can sing. We seemed to 
 understand each other, and nothing gave me more 
 pleasure than to hear of one girl who said, as she went 
 out after a lecture, " I will go home and be thick with 
 me feyther." 
 
 It happened that now and then some notable event, 
 pleasant or sad, occurred at the time of my visits to 
 certain towns. For instance, I had been lecturing at 
 Swansea on the evening of a terrible storm which was 
 very disastrous in its effects at the Mumbles, when the 
 lifeboat was wrecked, and several of the crew were 
 drowned. Two girls, daughters of the lighthouse keeper, 
 had bravely gone down to the sea, and by tying their 
 cloaks together and wading into the water, managed to 
 
 159
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 throw them within reach of the desperate hands of the 
 men, and so saved several. My host thought I should 
 go to the Mumbles and see the scene for myself. 
 
 I found Miss Ace quietly ironing her father's 
 shirts in the kitchen of the lighthouse home as if nothing 
 had happened. 
 
 " I want to shake hands with you. May I ? " She 
 looked rather surprised, but gave me her hand. " How 
 brave and noble you were yesterday ! " I said, and I 
 could scarcely speak steadily. 
 
 " Oh no ! Any one would have done the same," she 
 replied quietly. 
 
 " I have read the account in the papers," I said. 
 "All the world is ringing with the names of you and 
 your sister." 
 
 "Yes, somebody said we were in the papers," she 
 remarked quite indifferently, taking up the iron to go 
 on with her work. 
 
 I went into the poor home which had lost three life- 
 boat heroes, and never shall I forget it. Sad, heart- 
 broken people they were, an old man and an old woman 
 and a young widow, and they were vainly trying to take 
 their midday meal of bread and butter and tea. 
 
 It was in January of the year 1880 that the most 
 exciting episode occurred to me. I was to give a lecture 
 that night at Merthyr Tydvil. It began to snow soon 
 after we started, and at Abergavenny, where we changed 
 carriages, a blizzard was blowing. I and my friend got 
 a cup of coffee there, and it was a good thing we did, 
 for it was all we had that day. The train moved very 
 slowly, stopping sometimes for half an hour, and then 
 
 100
 
 Lectures 
 
 creeping on again, coming at last to a standstill in a 
 cutting near Rhymney Bridge. It was then about half- 
 past seven, but I was hoping that I might yet be able 
 to keep my engagement at Merthyr, if the train would 
 only get on. It remained in that cutting the whole of 
 that night, and all the next day and night. We were 
 alone in a second-class carriage, and with our wraps 
 were able to keep moderately comfortable ; but though 
 we had closed the windows tightly, there was a heap of 
 snow on the cushion. We once tried to open the window 
 and look out, but the blast and rush of snow that took 
 our breath away made us quick to close it again. When 
 about an hour had passed the door was thrown open, 
 and the guard sprang in. He had come to see how we 
 were getting on, and if we would like a little whiskey ! 
 We declined that, but begged him to try and get us 
 something to eat, if only a bit of bread. He was afraid 
 that was impossible, but said he would try. About 
 eleven o'clock he came in again. By this time we were 
 pretty miserable with cold and hunger, loneliness and 
 delay. He told us we were near a railway station, and 
 said he thought if he carried us through a drift we could 
 make our way in. We did so, and half regretted that 
 we had left the shelter of our carriage, for the station 
 was small, and was filled with people. The floor was a 
 river of melted snow. There were very few seats, and 
 the scene was a most wretched one. A gentleman made 
 his way to us through the crowd. " Ah," he said, " when 
 I heard there were two ladies in a second-class carriage 
 I thought it was you. Come through into the ticket- 
 office." A porter opened the door with a flourish, saying, 
 
 161 L
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 " This way, ladies, please." We were fortunate to find 
 this gentleman there, for we had been entertained in 
 his home not long before. All the people knew him, 
 as he was the manager of large works at Ebbwvale, and 
 for his sake the railway officials did what they could for 
 us. Two of the few chairs that were available were 
 placed at our service, and we had seats by the side of a 
 glorious fire. But that night was like a month ; the 
 minutes seemed like hours. Only a few of the men 
 appeared to have courage and vivacity to speak at all. 
 One man walked about among his fellow-sufferers, saying, 
 " This will be ten pounds out of my pocket," until our 
 friend rebuked him. " Hold your tongue about your 
 paltry ten pounds," he said. "Vessels will be going 
 ashore in Cardiff Bay, and many people will be losing 
 their lives to-night, and you keep harping on your 
 miserable money." Another man was more cheerful 
 about his loss. " Oh, I wish I had obeyed my wife," 
 he said. "She wanted me not to come, but to write 
 instead. Never, never, never will I disobey my wife 
 again, if once I get safely back to her." The guard 
 managed to remain facetious. When everything was 
 quiet, and some of us were dozing, he blew his whistle 
 sharply, which made us wake up, hoping we were about 
 to start again. It was considered a joke at first, but it 
 made everybody angry afterwards. One old woman 
 was very ill, and we were afraid she would die in her 
 chair, but somebody had a little brandy, and it revived 
 her. It was found that several of the men were can- 
 vassers for tea, and had samples with them, which were 
 produced, and we hoped we might get a teaspoonful 
 
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 Lectures 
 
 each, but there was no water on the premises, and it 
 takes a large quantity of snow to make a cup of tea. 
 Toward morning one of the porters made his way to the 
 scattered houses that were near, and brought back two 
 loaves which he had taken hot out of an oven, and a bit 
 of bread was served to each of us. The man was very 
 exhausted, and I heard afterwards that he narrowly 
 escaped death from the effects of his gallant effort to 
 feed the starving. His fight with the elements that wild 
 morning was a braver deed, I think, than that of many 
 a soldier on the battlefield. 
 
 As soon as it was light, many of the people left to 
 try and make their way over the mountains to their 
 homes. Our friend was very anxious to get away > 
 because a wedding-party awaited him. He made a 
 tempting offer to one of the men to take him a few 
 miles to the house of some friends. We felt very dis- 
 consolate when he went away. In the afternoon, when 
 those who were left were dreading the coming night, 
 the door was thrown open, and a gentleman, covered 
 with snow, and looking like a veritable Father Christmas, 
 came in. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Farningham," he said, "I am glad to 
 find you here ! " 
 
 I have always been sorry that I impatiently replied, 
 " I am not at all glad to be here." 
 
 "Ah, but," he said, "you might be in a worse 
 place," and he told me of many who had not been able 
 to leave their snowed-up trains, and how impossible it 
 was for them to be either warmed or fed. He said 
 there were seven or eight trains in the Rhymney Cutting 
 
 163
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 quite unable to move, most of them containing cattle- 
 trucks, and the cries of the poor animals were terrible to 
 hear. He added that earlier in the day they had tried 
 with a pair of horses to bring a carriage to us, but 
 it was impossible. He brought us some Liebig's 
 extract of beef, and other things which were worth their 
 weight in gold, and he added to his great kindnesses 
 by persuading the station-master and his wife to sit up 
 a few hours during the coming night that we might lie 
 down. He was indeed a good Samaritan ! 
 
 The next day we heard that if we could walk across 
 the mountains for a mile or two we could strike the. Great 
 Western line, on which some trains were running. With 
 difficulty, and with a guide to help us, we did so, and 
 eot a train to Cardiff. I was to have delivered a lecture 
 
 o 
 
 at Cardiff on the night after the Merthyr Tydvil one, and 
 the minister who had engaged me met us at the station. 
 His first words were, "Ah, Miss Farningham, this is very 
 sad. You ought to have been here yesterday. To break 
 faith with the public is a most unfortunate thing." 
 
 I stared at him in a helpless way, but my friend, the 
 most equable and peace-loving person in the world, 
 flushed up and spoke a few words to him that actually 
 made me feel almost warm and comfortable. He went 
 away, and we ordered at the station, the best hot dinner 
 .hat we could get Never was there such soup as 
 we tasted then ! We were now able to send telegrams to 
 our friends to assure them of our safety. We got dry 
 as well as we could, and I was able to fulfil my engage- 
 ment on the third night by giving a lecture at Newport. 
 
 Of course it became necessary to follow up "The 
 164
 
 Lectures 
 
 Women of To-day " with other lectures, and I wrote 
 one each year for five years " The Rush and the Hush 
 of Life," " Help-meets and Hinderers," " The Women 
 of Yesterday," " The Women of the Bible," and " Two 
 Queens : Elizabeth and Victoria." By far the most 
 popular of them all was " The Rush and the Hush of 
 Life." I delivered it more than two hundred times, and 
 many thousands of people listened to it. I wish it had/ 
 been more worthy of so great an opportunity ! 
 
 This lecture was not unsuitable for a chapel, and as 
 chapels were usually available to the friends who made 
 the arrangements it was often delivered in them, in all 
 parts of the country. I never felt at home in a pulpit, x 
 and did not speak from one unless in response to a 
 very strong wish on the part of the people themselves. 
 Perhaps conscience and St. Paul had a little to do with , 
 that ! If the minister were present, I asked beforehand 
 his forgiveness if the people should laugh because I 
 meant to make them, for two reasons : first, to be sure 
 that I was being heard, and secondly that we might all 
 become free and friendly together without loss of time. 
 My words were always directed to the people who were 
 seated the farthest from me, and if they were grave and 
 unmoved it was a sign that a little more force and 
 clearness must be put into my voice. 
 
 The following extract of a report appeared in The 
 Christian World of November 16, 1877: 
 
 "THE WOMEN OF TO-DAY. 
 
 (From The Western Daily Press.) 
 
 " Last Monday evening a lecture on this subject was 
 delivered in the Ebenezer chapel, Old King Street, by Miss 
 
 165
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 Marianne Farningham, the well-known author of ' Leaves from 
 Elim.' Mr. S. A. Hayman presided, and introduced the lecturer 
 in a few brief remarks. Miss Farningham, who was very 
 cordially received, in the first place reminded the gentlemen 
 present that not only was the subject of her lecture 'The 
 Women of To-day,' but it was addressed to members of her 
 own sex. The braver sex, who had honoured her with their 
 presence, would excuse her if she directed no words especially 
 to them ; those who were married would be almost sure to 
 know what women's lectures were (laughter), and those who 
 had no knowledge of that kind would the more readily forgive 
 her, if instead of presuming to lecture them perhaps they 
 often deserved it (laughter) she endeavoured to lecture their 
 lecturers. (Renewed laughter and applause.) 
 
 ***** 
 " The lecture throughout was eagerly listened to, and at its 
 close a vote of thanks was accorded to Miss Farningham. The 
 proceeds, after defraying expenses, will be devoted to the Young 
 Men's Christian Association, under whose auspices the lecture 
 was given." 
 
 One true story put in one of the lectures, which 
 always amused my hearers, because it told so delight- 
 Cully against myself, was this : I was talking once to a 
 working man, when he told me that he could not write, 
 and was sorry for it, because he wanted to send some 
 money home to his wife, and would have liked a letter 
 to go with it. I offered to write the letter for him, if he 
 would tell me what to say. He thanked me, and we 
 began : 
 
 " MY DEAR WIFE, I write these few lines hoping to find 
 you quite well, as it leaves me at present. I enclose a post- 
 office order. It is not for so much as I wish it was, but I hope 
 
 166
 
 Lectures 
 
 you will make it go as far as you can. I hope the children are 
 well. Kiss them for me. So, no more at present, from your 
 affectionate HUSBAND." 
 
 I was proceeding to blot and fold the letter when he 
 said, " Stop a minute. You had better say, ' Excuse bad 
 writing and bad spelling? " 
 
 I added the postscript, and thought we had come to 
 the end of the business. But the man said, " Don't be 
 in such a hurry. There's something else I want to say 
 to my wife, but I don't just know how to put it." 
 
 I waited, and he presently said, " Tell my wife that 
 the thought of her and my happy home is keeping me 
 straight and sober ; and by God's help I'll be a better 
 man in the future than I was in the past." Of course, 
 this second postscript gave me a good point, of which 
 I endeavoured to make the best use. 
 
 The most trying time I remember was when a 
 gentleman engaged me for a week's lectures at White- 
 haven, and other towns in the neighbourhood. I cannot 
 recollect why, but I happened to be alone, which was 
 the less consequence, because a lady and gentleman 
 among the kindest of my kind friends took me in and 
 cared for me. The manager was not quite satisfied with 
 the financial result of these lectures, and asked me to stay 
 over Sunday, and give an address in the evening at one 
 of the larger towns, which I promised to do. So on Satur- 
 day evening I went to this place. As I was taking a look 
 round, in order to see if I could get an article for The 
 Christian World out of it, a young man stepped from an 
 office, and told me that my late host wanted to speak to 
 
 167
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 me. It was my first acquaintance with the telephone, 
 and I was greatly amazed to hear my friend's voice and 
 his laugh, and yet not see him. He said that he and 
 his wife were not very comfortable about me, and 
 had decided to drive over to the meeting the next 
 evening and take me back with them. I was much 
 touched by their kind thought, and afterwards more 
 thankful than words could say. 
 
 When Sunday evening came I was very tired, but 
 thought that only a little would be expected of me, and 
 perhaps a few minutes of Evangelistic talk would be 
 sufficient. But when I reached the hall at eight o'clock, 
 I found it an immense place crowded with well-dressed 
 people, two thousand of them, who had come from 
 the churches and chapels, and occupied every foot 
 of standing room, while the platform was filled with the 
 various choirs. To the best of my recollection I had 
 not so much as a few notes to help me, and I was so 
 weary that I could not think. Never before or since 
 have I been so frightened. If I could only have fallen 
 through the floor ! But I was helped. 
 
 I cannot be sure that my memory serves me faithfully, 
 but I believe it was at this meeting that I first related 
 an incident so beautiful in itself that it ought to be 
 repeated here. A girl in my Bible class was very ill, 
 and indeed dying of consumption. She was a Christian, 
 and life was naturally dear to her. Yet, when she 
 knew that the end was inevitable, she became loyally 
 submissive, surrendering herself to the will of God in 
 such serenity and peace of spirit that it was a privilege 
 to visit her. She had a sorrow of which she seldom 
 
 168
 
 Lectures 
 
 spoke, for her father had imbibed the atheistical ideas 
 which at the time were being freely discussed in 
 Northampton. She was very fond of him, and he was 
 a kind and affectionate father. One day, for a little 
 while, and from some cause which no one could explain, 
 her faith seemed strangely to forsake her, and a black 
 cloud of fear and doubt settled upon her, which brought 
 her great grief and depression. Her mother told her 
 father about it when he came from his work to dinner. 
 He went upstairs to try to cheer her. " Come, Annie, 
 my girl," he said, " you mustn't give way. I don't know 
 what we shall all do if you cannot keep bright. Cheer 
 up, my dear ; I'll stay with you a few minutes, and read 
 something to you." She thanked him, but rather sadly, 
 for he sometimes read extracts from books and papers 
 which gave her nothing but pain. The man, however, 
 knew the only words that should be read to his child in 
 these sad moments, and he turned over the leaves of the 
 Book, and when he had found what he looked for, began 
 to read softly : 
 
 "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, 
 believe also in me. 
 
 " In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were 
 not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for 
 you. 
 
 " And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come 
 again, and receive you unto myself ; that where I am, there 
 ye may be also " (John xiv. 1-3). 
 
 As he read, the black clouds dispersed, and the girl's 
 face became radiant. 
 
 " Beautiful, beautiful ! " she whispered. 
 169
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 "Yes," the man admitted, "it is very beautiful 
 indeed." 
 
 " And so true. Isn't Jesus wonderful, father ? " 
 
 " I suppose He is. Those words of His have had a 
 wonderful effect on you, anyhow, my girl, and I am very 
 glad." 
 
 " Father, you won't say anything against Him after 
 this, will you? And you'll come back to Him, won't 
 you?" 
 
 With tears in his eyes the man bent and kissed her, 
 and his daughter was comforted. 
 
 It was never my intention to continue this public 
 work for any length of time ; and indeed it could not 
 well be done, for during two of the six or seven years 
 I gave a hundred lectures each winter in a hundred 
 different places, and I am afraid they were poor things. 
 But I am always glad to have made the experiment. 
 Several pleasant results followed. The more I saw of 
 my native land the more beautiful it appeared to me. 
 The profits enabled me to purchase a house of my 
 own in Northampton, and this was a consummation 
 for which to be thankful. But the most wonderful 
 part of it all was the marvellously kind receptions 
 I met with, and the affectionate greetings which shone 
 in so many eyes. Night after night have I thanked 
 God that He had heard and so graciously answered 
 the prayers of my dear father, when as a child I knelt 
 beside him, while in spite of my plain face and shy 
 manners, he asked that I might " find favour." My 
 lecturing experience proved that the one great gift 
 of my life has been the favour of the people. And I 
 
 170
 
 Lectures 
 
 knew that it was not only or chiefly the lectures that 
 gave me so many friends, but the little things which I 
 had been helped to write for so many years, and which 
 had the unspeakable advantage of the very wide 
 circulation of The Christian World. I was indeed 
 fortunate in having secured such a constituency. It 
 must happen to few journalists to be brought face to 
 face with their readers as I have been. For the most 
 part, all literary work is like Longfellow's " arrow shot 
 in the air." But my experience has been singularly 
 happy, and in sincere humility I wish here to record for 
 I cannot express my deep gratitude to God for His 
 favour. 
 
 " I breathed a song into the air, 
 It fell to earth, I knew not where, 
 For who has sight so keen and strong, 
 That it can follow the flight ofia song ? 
 
 " Long, long afterwards, in an oak, 
 I found the arrow still unbroke, 
 And the song from beginning to end, 
 I found again in the heart of a friend." 
 
 171
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 TRAVELS 
 
 BEFORE I had been writing for very many years it 
 became apparent that if I hoped to retain the 
 interest of my readers I must frequently travel, and see 
 fresh scenes, places, and people. Perhaps had I lived in 
 London I might have felt this less, but Northampton, 
 except for the fellowship of a few intellectual friends 
 and the inspiring ministry of Mr. Brown, was not sug- 
 gestive of a great variety of topics. My kind of work, 
 short articles, poems, and stories, made a greater demand 
 upon my resources than if I had been writing novels. 
 The fear haunted me of becoming dull, monotonous, and 
 uninteresting. It was as well that I did not know for 
 how many years I was to continue writing ! However, 
 as soon as I could possibly afford it, I went away from 
 home several times a year, to see what I could find. 
 Of course this has always been very expensive, and 
 indeed a very large part of my income has been spent 
 in this way. But I am convinced that I could not have 
 gone on earning my salary so long by any other means, 
 and I have been able to combine business and pleasure 
 to a rather unusual extent. I must have been born a 
 traveller, for I could always bear maximum journeys 
 
 172
 
 Travels 
 
 with minimum fatigue. Often when feeling too unwell to 
 think or write, a ride in a train has blown away my 
 headache, and given me an idea of which I promptly 
 and thankfully endeavoured to make the most. I have 
 done a good deal of writing in trains, but very little 
 reading, and never much talking. It was always 
 most pleasant to sit quite still, preferably in a carriage 
 by myself, and, looking lazily through the windows, let 
 thought and feeling come as they would. 
 
 It has been my privilege, therefore, in the pursuit of 
 my two kinds of work, to go almost completely over our 
 own dear land, and to take pleasant excursions into 
 other countries, the one underlying aim of it all being 
 to sustain and increase the interest and usefulness of my 
 contributions to The Christian World and The Sunday 
 School Times. 
 
 I have, I think, seen all our cathedrals, walked by all 
 our principal rivers, sojourned in most of our health 
 resorts, and climbed at least some of our mountains. In 
 England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales, I have spent 
 delightful, though always busy times. I had once a 
 great desire to walk around our own coast, but it was a 
 feat that I was never able to accomplish. I must have 
 seen and enjoyed most of the places that are on the 
 shores of our island, north, south, east, and west. 
 Generally I have kept away from the large towns during 
 the season, preferring to visit them before or after the 
 crowds. My inclination, too, has been rather toward 
 villages than cities; my life ordinarily being full of 
 people and incident, I have sought refreshment and rest 
 in quiet places. I have often strayed into some old 
 
 173
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 village church, and greatly enjoyed the service, the 
 beautiful prayers and the Litany having afforded me 
 much spiritual profit ; and I have ever loved the little 
 chapels of the country, and the people who frequent and 
 support them. Stories have been told me of the 
 sacrifice and devotion, the fervour and faithfulness of 
 agricultural labourers and their employers which have 
 made me proud to be an Englishwoman. I have always 
 been a lover of sermons, and a sympathetic listener. 
 It has been my privilege to hear most of the master 
 preachers of the day, but my soul has been as much 
 stirred sometimes by listening to a village preacher who 
 has walked with God through woods and fields, and 
 gained from them such knowledge of Him as could 
 never have been won from books or in college. 
 
 Now and then there have been things to smile at. 
 Once in a Methodist Chapel in Cornwall the expected 
 minister had not arrived, so three young men took the 
 service between them. One stood up before us, and gave 
 a very fair address with closed eyes, which he only 
 opened once, and that once nearly brought disaster, for 
 he became almost too agitated to proceed. "When I 
 look at this respectable congregation," he said, " I 
 wonder at my own boldness." But he shut his eyes 
 again, and went on to the end. The second commenced 
 by saying, " My friends, I am not going to preach a 
 sermon to you, but only a short talk." At which a 
 man in the congregation uttered the fervent response, 
 " Praise the Lord ! " The third speaker simply told 
 the story of his conversion, which he said took place 
 one quiet night on the sea. But that was so naturally 
 
 174
 
 Travels 
 
 and winsomely narrated that it was worth going far 
 to hear. 
 
 On another occasion in a Yorkshire village a lifeboat- 
 man was preaching on Paul and Silas in prison. " What 
 did they sing ? " he asked. " My friends," he continued, 
 " we local preachers are much scoffed at in the papers. 
 In a daily newspaper this injustice was done us. It was 
 said that a local preacher, after asking ' What did Paul 
 and Silas sing in prison ? ' answered, ' Why, one of good 
 old John Wesley's hymns, of course.' What a libel ! 
 As if a man who could pass the local preachers' examina- 
 tion of the Primitive Methodists would be so out in his 
 dates as that. We are not told what they sang. I 
 myself think it was the grand Te Deum ! " 
 
 This preacher at the end of his service referred to 
 the fact that he had been instrumental in saving several 
 lives from drowning, and he drew from it rather a 
 fine illustration. " I have never been able," he said, 
 "to save a life when the drowning man struggled to 
 save himself; but when he became too weak to do any- 
 thing but trust to me, then I could save him. This 
 shows that if we want the Lord Jesus to save us we 
 must be willing to do nothing, and leave Him to do 
 everything for us." 
 
 Many interesting incidents occurred in various places. 
 I attended a never-to-be-forgotten prayer-meeting at 
 Flamborough, held in the Fisherman's chapel, by the 
 men who were leaving next day for the North Sea 
 fisheries. They knew that they might have perhaps to 
 face death, and as they commended themselves and their 
 wives and children to God, brave voices broke a little. 
 
 175
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 But what was so beautiful was their calm trust in Him 
 " Who holds the waters in the hollow of His hand." 
 They were not afraid to go and do their duty. Heaven 
 was as near by sea as by land, and as easy to be 
 reached. 
 
 Some unknown friends, who reside on the north-east 
 coast, hearing that I was in the neighbourhood, kindly 
 sent me an invitation to be present at a wedding that 
 was about to take place in the family an invitation 
 which I accepted with pleasure. In the afternoon, before 
 the young people went off on their honeymoon, a gentle- 
 man asked me if I would call on an old fisherman, who 
 had read The Christian World for many years, and had 
 lately lost his wife. The poor man was so extremely deaf 
 that I do not think he could hear a word I said, but he 
 talked to me freely about the help-meet who had left 
 his home desolate, and related to me some of his experi- 
 ences on the sea. He told me that of all the characters 
 in the Bible he liked Job the best, and had most sympathy 
 with him, and that he had learnt by heart the book of 
 Job. Would I like him to recite part of it to me ? I 
 gave him to understand that I should be delighted to 
 listen. Never have I heard anything more wonderful 
 than that dramatic recitation. He related the story 
 given in the first and second chapters, changing his 
 voice as the persons were changed, and giving the 
 narrative as if he had been an eye-witness; and then 
 he personified first Job, then Eliphaz, and Bildad and 
 Zophar as if they debated with him. Sometimes his 
 voice was pitiful, as if he had become the suffering Job 
 himself, then scornful and sarcastic, with a mocking 
 
 176
 
 Travels 
 
 smile upon his lips, then indignant, then beseeching, 
 until at last " The Lord answered Job out of the whirl- 
 wind." Here the manner and the voice of the reciter 
 changed altogether. It was a wonderful performance 
 throughout. He must have delivered it, at least in 
 imagination, many times, while the sea beat an accom- 
 paniment, and the man felt himself face to face with 
 God. 
 
 I have spent many pleasant hours with the fisher- 
 men around our shores. They are delightful men to 
 talk to, and from their faith in God, and their realization 
 of salvation through Christ, I have learnt many a lesson. 
 My poem, " The Last Hymn," which has, perhaps, been 
 as much liked as anything I have written, was the out- 
 come of an event which was related to me in Wales. 
 
 Once when I was enjoying the hospitality of friends 
 in South Devon, the Cornish fishing fleet was driven by 
 stormy weather into Kingsbridge harbour. " There will 
 not be a single extra pint of beer sold at any of the public- 
 houses during their stay," said my friend to me. The 
 chapel was opened, and placed at their disposal, and on 
 one evening I was asked to speak to them. It touched 
 my heart to hear those men pray, and that which they 
 asked for me was the blessing of which just then I felt 
 greatly in need. It was good to hear them at night 
 in their boats on the water. They seemed to sing them- 
 selves to sleep with Sankey's hymns, and to begin them 
 again directly they awoke in the early morning. 
 
 But I must not weary my readers with too many 
 reminiscences, though I may perhaps be pardoned for 
 giving one more. I was walking through a village 
 
 177 M
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 street by the sea when I saw a woman standing in the 
 doorway of a cottage. Her face was an arresting one, 
 it was so grand, and her form so perfect, I could 
 scarcely take my eyes from her. " That is a wonderful- 
 looking woman," I said, " and her fine face seems familiar 
 to me ; yet I have never been here before, and cannot 
 have seen her." 
 
 " Ah," said my friend. " You have most likely seen 
 that face in the Royal Academy. It has been painted 
 by more than one artist." 
 
 " It is a face that tells a story ? " I suggested. 
 
 " Yes," he replied. " That woman is old and grey- 
 headed now, but she is still fascinating. As a girl, 
 however, I have been told that she was remarkably 
 beautiful. But hers was the common lot of the women 
 hereabouts, father and brothers having been drowned. 
 She declared that she would never marry a fisherman, 
 for she would always dread a repetition of the sorrow. 
 But there was a young boatman whom she loved, and 
 we know that perfect love casts out fear. He was a 
 Christian young man, and had faith in prayer, and he 
 believed that if she said 'yes' to him God would grant 
 their request, and keep him from a watery grave. With 
 the simple, child-like confidence of these people she 
 vowed to God that if He would preserve from drowning 
 this life that was dear to her, she would accept with 
 resignation any other trouble He might send, a vow 
 she often repeated. They were married, and had some 
 twenty years of happiness together. It was his habit on 
 Sunday mornings, when he was not at sea, to make his 
 wife a cup of tea, and take it up to her room. One 
 
 178
 
 Travels 
 
 morning he went downstairs as usual to do this. She 
 heard him light the fire, heard the sticks crackle, knew 
 when he put the kettle on, and utilized the minutes, as 
 always while it was boiling, for private prayer. She 
 heard the kettle sing, and next boil over ; and then, 
 wondering at her husband's silence, she went downstairs 
 and found him dead on his knees. She remembered her 
 vow, and kept it through all the sorrow for his death 
 and the loneliness of her widowhood." 
 
 And this it was that had added to her beauty, and 
 made her face so expressive of Christian nobility, that 
 artists wished to perpetuate it. 
 
 It is quite wonderful how, in regard to travel, my 
 longings have been gratified ; but the most wonderful 
 thing that ever happened to me was this 
 
 I was speaking at a women's meeting in connection 
 with the Congregational Union at Birmingham, and, at 
 the close, a lady whom I knew and loved, asked me if 
 I could drive home with her and stay a day or two. 
 She was Miss Kirkpatrick, whose father was among the 
 public men most highly honoured in the Midlands. 
 They had shown me hospitality many times, and it 
 was always a joy to be with them. Now she was 
 practically alone. I could not return with her that 
 night, but called on my way home next day. When 
 we were sitting by the fire after tea, she inquired 
 
 " Isn't your birthday next week ? " 
 
 I said it was. 
 
 " Well, I am going to ask you to accept a birthday 
 present from me a return ticket to Palestine." 
 
 I was electrified ; but presently, thanking her for 
 179
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 such a magnificent offer, said that I could not accept so 
 great a gift. 
 
 She replied, "You will accept a card from any of 
 your girls, and this would be no more to me than a 
 card to them. Besides, I want you to go with me, for 
 I have a great wish to see the Holy Land before I die. 
 You would like it too, and it would help you in your 
 work ; so don't worry, but go." 
 
 Was it not lovely of her ? What could I do but 
 gratefully accept what was so gracefully and affectionately 
 offered ? 
 
 We went with one of Cook's personally conducted 
 parties. In the company were a lady and gentleman 
 from France, a lady and gentleman from America, 
 Dr. Ross Taylor and Mrs. Taylor, and Dr. Hugh 
 Macmillan from Scotland, who proved charming com- 
 panions, and an Australian, who, because his forbears 
 were Scotch, travelled all through Palestine in a High- 
 land kilt, to the wonder and amusement of the natives 
 and to the annoyance of the true Scots and the rest of 
 our party. Altogether we numbered twenty. We our- 
 selves formed a little quartette, a Welsh Presbyterian 
 minister, Miss Brice, a young friend from Northampton, 
 Miss Kirkpatrick, and myself. But we were altogether 
 a friendly company. We travelled by water, starting 
 from London, and calling at Gibraltar, and Malta. 
 
 We also paid a short visit to Cairo, where English 
 friends met us and took us home to afternoon tea. It 
 was little more than a glimpse we had of the fascinating 
 land of Egypt. We found Cairo itself bewilderingly 
 interesting, its narrow streets, shops and bazaars, its 
 
 1 80
 
 Travels 
 
 mosques and temples. Of course we went out to see 
 the sphinx and the pyramids, and some others of the 
 great marvels of that marvellous land. We were much 
 interested to find the sand of the desert so beautiful in 
 colour, and to stand by the Nile, the mighty river of 
 mystery. All too soon we had to join the rest of the 
 party, travel by rail to Ismailia, and by steamer to Port 
 Said, and so away to Jaffa. The weather was very 
 stormy there, and it was not certain whether we could 
 land, and indeed the act of landing was difficult. First 
 we looked down from our big steamer and saw Cook's 
 boats on the tossing water below. Two men, after 
 waiting for a favourable moment, took me under the 
 arms, hoisted me over the side of the ship, poised me 
 for a second or two, and then let go ! I found myself 
 stumbling over the seats of the rocking boat, and heard 
 a hearty voice greet me with, "Bravo, Miss Farningham ! " 
 This was my introduction to Dr. Hugh Macmillan. We 
 had the opportunity of watching a similar descent of 
 our fellow-passengers, and were afterwards swiftly taken 
 to the Jaffa landing-stage and our hotel, the rooms of 
 which were named after the tribes of Israel my room, 
 I think, was Issachar. 
 
 Our first Sunday was spent in Jaffa, and, of course, 
 
 we were taken to see the house of Simon the Tanner 
 
 > 
 
 and other interesting places there. Next day we started 
 for Jerusalem. The railway was partly finished, but the 
 members of our party chose there the horses they were 
 to ride through the whole tour. Dr. Macmillan, how- 
 ever, was driving, and he kindly offered me a seat in his 
 carriage. It was a beautiful drive through the orange 
 
 181
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 and lemon groves of Jaffa, across the plains of Sharon 
 to Ramleh, and thence over the mountains of Judea, 
 past the site of Emmaus, along by the valley of Gihon, 
 and into the Holy City through the Jaffa Gate. We 
 went out on the roof after dinner to get an idea of the 
 views. Next day, carriages took us to Hebron, the Cave 
 of Machpelah, Abraham's Oak, and to the Pools of 
 Solomon, where our camp was pitched. We visited the 
 church of the Nativity, the Milk Grotto, the Shepherds' 
 Fields, and the Mar-Saba Monastery. On Friday we 
 rode through the Wilderness of Judea to the Dead Sea, 
 and saw the ruined castle where John the Baptist was 
 beheaded, and the deep valley in which are the warm 
 baths where Herod bathed. Some of our party had a 
 bath in the Dead Sea. While we rested a little breeze 
 sprang up. " I don't like this wind," said the dragoman 
 suddenly, as he looked at the sky. It was clear and 
 blue except for a cloud "the size of a man's hand," but 
 in a few minutes we were in a deluge. When it ceased 
 we had to cross the Jordan on our horses, by no means 
 a pleasant experience. Next day we went to Bethany, 
 and walked over the Mount of Olives to Jerusalem. 
 
 One of the most memorable of our days in Palestine 
 was this first Sunday in Jerusalem. Many members of 
 our party went to Mass at the Church of the Holy 
 Sepulchre, but our Welsh friend said, " Let us go round 
 about Jerusalem, and tell the towers thereof." He took 
 his New Testament with him, and we walked up the hill, 
 which is now generally supposed to be the true Calvary. 
 We were resting at the top with the city spread at our 
 feet, and Mr. Jones was reading little portions from the 
 
 182
 
 Travels 
 
 Gospel, which in this locality seemed to be very real, 
 when the sound of singing reached us. We found it 
 was by girls from the Syrian Orphanage, and as they 
 appeared on the slope of a hill near us it was with a 
 thrill of pleasure we discovered that they were singing 
 in English 
 
 " There is a green hill far away, 
 
 Without a city wall, 
 Where the dear Lord was crucified, 
 Who died to save us all." 
 
 We went over to speak to the girls, who had sweet 
 faces and pleasant manners, and who told us they all had 
 to learn one foreign language, and they had chosen 
 English. 
 
 A little later we heard singing of another kind, the 
 wailing song of those who were attending the dead to 
 his burial. Among the mourners was one of the servants 
 of our party, who came across to fetch us nearer that we 
 might gain a knowledge of the obsequies of the Arabs. 
 The dead man was carried on a bier, wrapped in a 
 linen cloth, his face uncovered. They had made him a 
 sepulchre in the rock, and there they buried him, his 
 head slightly raised. He had a very fine face, which 
 looked serenely placid in the last sleep. After more weird 
 singing and prayers they placed a large stone at the door 
 of the sepulchre and left him. As for us, we had passed 
 a morning which neither of us would ever forget. 
 
 We spent a Sunday at Nazareth, and Dr. Macmillian 
 came to us with a lighted face and a hand full of flowers. 
 " See, these are daisies and buttercups ! He played with 
 the very flowers which our children pick daisies and 
 
 183
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 buttercups ! " It was from this no doubt that Dr. 
 Macmillan got the idea for his book " The Daisies of 
 Nazareth." Mount Hermon was a grand object in all 
 our views for several days. From Nazareth we went to 
 Tiberias. The tents were pitched beside the beautiful 
 lake, and we went out in fishing-boats. Our American 
 friends said, "Cook ought to place a nice little steam- 
 tug on the lake, instead of these big, old-fashioned flat 
 boats." I was so glad he had not ! We watched the 
 brown-skinned men taking their meal of bread and 
 olives, heard them talk to one another and sing, just as 
 when Peter said, " I go a-fishing," and one of the boat- 
 men looked as if he might be Peter himself. What a 
 time that was ! Memory and imagination did glad 
 work. We, too, sang when the boatmen did. I can 
 at times recall the voice of my friend, Miss Kirkpatrick, 
 in Thring's hymn, " Fierce raged the tempest," especially 
 in the last verse which she led 
 
 " So when our life is clouded o'er, 
 And storm winds drift us from the shore, 
 Say, lest we sink to rise no more, 
 Peace be still. " 
 
 The doctor at Tiberias told us that it would not be 
 safe to remain there, we must get away, or we should all 
 be ill. So we started for the highlands of Naphtali, 
 the waters of Merom, and the slopes of Hermon to 
 Damascus. We were all feeling strangely tired when 
 we reached the beautifully situated city, and saw the 
 rivers of Pharpar and Abana, and the gardens filled 
 with lovely blossoms of peach, apricots, and almonds. 
 Excepting that no one felt well, we enjoyed our visit. 
 
 184
 
 Travels 
 
 We walked "the street that is called Straight," and 
 saw the spots around which legends have gathered. 
 Then we left Damascus, riding through orchards of 
 vine and fig trees, and up the north bank of the Abana, 
 in the delightful shade of the walnut trees to our camp, 
 which was pitched among fruit trees at the foot of a 
 high mountain. Next we rode to Baalbec, the wonder- 
 ful town of ruins, and had lunch near the Temple of 
 the Sun. Then we drove over one of the slopes of 
 Lebanon to Beyrout, a fine modern city, at which our 
 tour came to an end. 
 
 I had been feeling very anxious in regard to my 
 friend's health since leaving Damascus. Our longings 
 now were for home. Interesting as Beyrout was, we were 
 disappointed to find that we had a day to spare there. 
 Our dragoman, however, said that a small Russian 
 steamer was starting for Port Said at once, and we 
 might travel by it. We did so, and had an interesting 
 experience, watching the Russian peasants at their work 
 and worship. At Port Said we were told that we must 
 wait several days for our own special boat to England, 
 and that we had saved nothing by coming on. Then 
 we were near despair, for my friend was very ill. But 
 suddenly I remembered that as I left London, Mr. 
 Cook had given me a personal letter addressed to his 
 agents everywhere, directing them to come to my aid 
 in any way I required. The result was satisfactory. 
 I asked the manager of Cook's office to read the letter, 
 and we were despatched that night in one of the best 
 steamers. 
 
 I have been thankful for that ever since. What 
 185
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 would have happened if there had been delay? My 
 friend just gained the comforts of her peaceful home 
 and the company of her relatives in time. Her doctor 
 pronounced the illness a case of virulent typhoid, and 
 she lived only a few days. As she was nearing the end 
 she several times sang parts of the hymn we sang on the 
 Sea of Galilee 
 
 "The wild winds hushed, the angry deep 
 Sank, like a little child to sleep, 
 The sullen billows ceased to leap 
 At Thy will." 
 
 Her death was a great grief to me, and a loss to 
 many. She was most philanthropic and good, support- 
 ing by her gifts those societies especially which aimed 
 to help girls and women, the afflicted and the hopeless. 
 To her friends and companions she was merry and 
 gracious. On one of my visits I found that her carriage 
 had been named " the omnibus," because there was 
 always room in it for all sorts and conditions of friends. 
 Dear Janet ! you are greatly beloved and missed still. 
 
 For myself, I could not bear, for a long time, to think 
 or talk of Palestine. It seemed all too dreadful ! The 
 only way to bear it was to try to push back memory and 
 feeling. I cancelled all engagements I had made to give 
 lectures on the Holy Land, and felt as if I should be 
 glad to remember it no more. 
 
 But of course this state of feeling should not last 
 long, and I knew that it would grieve her if she could 
 know how I was behaving. It was good to remember 
 that her wish to see the Holy Land was granted, and 
 that she had thoroughly enjoyed it until nearly the end. 
 
 1 86
 
 Travels 
 
 I felt sometimes as if she were saying to me, " Peace, 
 be still." 
 
 So I am glad and thankful to have been to Palestine. 
 It made the Bible so much more interesting as I went 
 on teaching it in my class, and selecting mottoes from it 
 for my verses. I wish every Church that could would do 
 for its pastor what my friend did for me. But to get out 
 of it what is possible, he should go while he is well and 
 strong. Jerusalem and Damascus are not health resorts. 
 
 The whole country in which Jesus lived is like none 
 other to those who know and love Him, and is still a 
 land of milk and honey to those who hunger and thirst 
 for Him. 
 
 I was often warned that I should be disappointed in 
 Palestine, but I was not. The land seemed full of Him 
 who trod its slopes, ministered in its cities, and healed 
 its people. And there were always the mountains to 
 see, beautiful for colouring in the lights of the mornings 
 and the days. I count among my rarest experiences 
 the early morning rides across the hills and through the 
 fields of that sacred land. 
 
 Four years after my tour in Palestine I had a very 
 bad attack of influenza, and was a long time recovering 
 from it ; indeed, the effects lasted from December to 
 June. Then the doctor issued a pleasant prescription : 
 " Switzerland ! Not its valleys, but the hills on which the 
 snow lies." Some friends and neighbours, who are not 
 less dear because they are among my latest, and whose 
 kindness has comforted me often, had already received 
 the same doctor's behest, with the addition that the 
 gentleman was to " breathe glacier air." They kindly 
 
 187
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 invited me to join them, and other friends elected to do 
 the same. We were a happy party of seven three 
 married couples, and an odd old woman whom they all 
 spoiled. 
 
 So we went through sunny France to Switzerland by 
 vine-clad hills, with glorious views of the fine mountains, 
 from Pontarlier to Lausanne and the lake of Geneva, to 
 Zermatt and the Riffelalp, with the grand Matterhorn 
 close to us, and far away in the valley the mountains of 
 the Bernese Oberland, with the exquisite Jungfrau robed 
 in spotless white. We concluded our holiday among the 
 snows at the Eggischhorn, from which more than a 
 hundred mountains can be counted, and which look 
 down upon the largest glacier in Switzerland. 
 
 Our most adventurous journey was after we had 
 been to Chamounix. We were staying at Martigny 
 when the captain of our expedition said, " This is my 
 eighth visit to Switzerland, and I have never seen the 
 Hospice of St. Bernard. We can manage it very well 
 this time." 
 
 It was quite early in June, and we were a little afraid 
 that the pass would not be open, but we all wanted to 
 see the Hospice of St. Bernard, as who does not ? So 
 we went. We had a wonderful drive along the valley 
 of the Rhone, and afterwards through grand and ex- 
 quisite scenery, but depressingly dirty villages. The 
 sun shone till we reached Liddes, and exchanged our 
 horses for mules and narrower carriages. At Cantine, 
 a lonely inn on the road, we had some refreshments, 
 and soon after we came to the snow, and our troubles 
 began. We were told it would take us three quarters 
 
 188
 
 Travels 
 
 of an hour to get through the snow, but it was a' toil- 
 some journey of at least three hours. The snow was 
 very deep, and our clothes were speedily saturated and 
 heavy to walk in. A severe snowstorm came on, which 
 made things worse, and as we waded through it, with 
 nothing but wastes of snow around, and the sound of 
 the torrent running underneath, and the scarcely marked 
 track becoming terribly steep and difficult, we under- 
 stood the need there was of a hospice. We could not 
 see the refuge, however, for a long time, and our strength 
 nearly gave out. I am afraid I caused my friends some 
 anxiety. " I would not have brought you here for five 
 pounds," said our captain. Half an hour later he put 
 the sum at ten, and I kept going up in value, till at last 
 he said, " I would not have brought you here for fifty 
 pounds if I could have foreseen this." Another friend, 
 my neighbour, roused me in another way. He was 
 always ready with remedies, but at last he said, " Pull 
 yourself together if you can. They charge an awful lot 
 of money for carrying a corpse over these lines, and, 
 however expensive it would be, the Northampton people 
 would never forgive me if I did not take you home to 
 be buried ! " 
 
 We all laughed at that, and the laugh did us good. 
 Presently, when there was only a little bit more to climb 
 a very steep bit though the foremost of the party, 
 scrambling, slipping, panting, mounted it, and summoned 
 aid for the odd one, who was triumphantly chaired into 
 the hospice ! 
 
 We were most kindly treated by the monks, and im- 
 pressed by their heroism and goodness. All that we saw 
 
 189
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 was most interesting, and we felt repaid for our trouble, 
 especially as it was fine next morning, and the descent 
 was so much more easy than the ascent. We were glad 
 to have seen St. Bernard under such realistic conditions, 
 and thankful to find ourselves none the worse for our 
 experiences. 
 
 190
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 EDITOR OF THE SUNDAY SCHOOL TIMES 
 
 WHEN we were all young and merry together, two 
 friends and I used to sing a humorous song, the 
 first line of which was " I'd be a heditor." It is curious 
 that two out of the three have been editors for many 
 years, and the other a constant contributor to literature. 
 
 It was toward the close of the year 1884 that Mr. 
 Clarke asked me if I would be disposed to take the 
 editorship of The Sunday School Times. The request 
 was supplemented by the strongly expressed wish of 
 Mr. James Greville Clarke, the eldest son, in whose care 
 the journal had chiefly been. 
 
 This came upon me altogether as a surprise, and I 
 asked for time to consider it. Mr. Clarke, in order to 
 help me to a decision, pointed out what would be my 
 new duties, the time it would probably take me to 
 perform them, and the amount of the remuneration he 
 could offer. I did not at that interview mention the 
 doubt which was uppermost in my mind, for I have 
 frequently been too cowardly to speak that which I 
 had courage afterward to write, so I took home with 
 me, unuttered, that which was the question of questions, 
 Should I be required to leave Northampton, and live 
 
 191
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 in London, in order to accomplish the work? After 
 thinking it over and consulting my friends, I wrote to 
 Mr. Clarke and submitted my difficulty to him. I 
 reminded him that my sister and her family and my 
 brother had now settled in Northampton, and that my 
 Bible-class was as large, as important, and as precious 
 as ever, but said that if he thought it necessary for me 
 to reside near the office of The Sunday School Times I 
 would do as he wished. 
 
 He replied that he would not like to take the re- 
 sponsibility of uprooting me, that he thought it was not 
 absolutely essential for me to be in London, that large, 
 strong envelopes could be made to carry papers, and 
 that there was a post between Northampton and the 
 Metropolis. I was very grateful for this concession, 
 aud at once accepted the position, for which I was to 
 receive an extra 50 a year. 
 
 With the New Year, 1885, I commenced my new 
 duties. There was a portrait of me in the first number 
 which I wonder did not frighten away half the sub- 
 scribers at one fell blow, and an Editorial Address, part 
 of which may be copied here. 
 
 " SUNDAY SCHOOL TIMES, Jan. 2, 1885. 
 
 " It is not without some trepidation that the writer of these 
 words adopts the editorial " we, and appears in a new character 
 before the readers of The Sunday School Times , nor without a 
 great desire that the acquaintance which long ago commenced 
 between us may be strengthened and cemented by the change. 
 It is more than a quarter of a century since we, with others, were 
 consulted as to the need and desirability of a cheap little 
 
 192
 
 Editor of "The Sunday School Times" 
 
 paper that should be an acceptable visitor in the homes of the 
 people, and a sympathetic helper of Sunday school teachers 
 and scholars. Penny papers were multiplying rapidly at that 
 time, but a halfpenny one was a rather new idea. The Rev. 
 Jonathan Whittemore, the originator of The Sunday School 
 Times, however, believed it to be a good one, and foresaw 
 that it would be a success. The paper was started, and at 
 once made room for itself in the crowded world of literature ; 
 and, notwithstanding the smallness of its size, and the quaint- 
 ness that has always^ characterized its appearance, has managed 
 not only to hold its own and live on, but to grow in favour and 
 gain in power and influence. There were associated with its 
 originator, the present proprietor, whose articles did much for 
 the success of the enterprise, the lady whose excellent lessons 
 and articles still enrich our columns, and the writer of this 
 paper, whose name has not, we believe, been absent from a 
 single number of The Sunday School Times. There were also 
 Mrs. Worboise, Miss Welsh, and other writers of beautiful 
 stories connected with the venture. Twenty-five years have 
 availed to change some of the workers and to take some to 
 their rest. Happily a new race of writers has sprung up, and 
 our readers will bear us out in the assertion that the last year, 
 which has seen the largest circulation, has also been the best 
 in the history of the paper as regards the interest and value of 
 its various articles. We are exceedingly anxious to maintain 
 the present standard of excellence, and for this reason are 
 hopeful that familiar names will still be found in our columns ; 
 and that the chief worker, Mr. Clarke, whose name has not 
 appeared, but to whose watchful oversight and thoughtful 
 selection we have all been indebted, will give us his help. 
 ****** 
 "It remains for us to commend ourselves to the kindly 
 reception and good words of our friends. We have at least 
 one qualification for the new post, for we have grown grey 
 
 193 N
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 in the service of the Sunday school. A long and intimate 
 acquaintance with the responsibilities and possibilities attaching 
 to this sphere of Christian work has so endeared it to us that 
 we trust it will be the last of all the life tasks to be laid down 
 when the evening shadows fall, and the night, when none can 
 work, is at hand. If before that time we may be enabled 
 to say a few cheery words, and render a little assistance to 
 the younger workers, it will be indeed a source of profound 
 thankfulness. Nor are we less desirous that as The Home 
 Educator, which it has always been, our paper may have before 
 it an enlarged and a useful ministry. We want it to be a 
 friend cordially received, warmly recommended, and well 
 beloved ; and in the confidence that it will be, we have the 
 pleasure to wish you, most sincerely, 
 
 " A Very Happy New Year." 
 
 It may be imagined that I was exceedingly anxious 
 that The Sunday School Times should be in no sense the 
 loser by its having passed into my control. When it 
 started first it had no competitor, but now there were 
 several in the field. The times, too, had changed. 
 Friends of the young were desirous of introducing into 
 Sunday schools better methods and higher ideals. The 
 day schools had vastly improved during the last quarter 
 of a century, and this made the work of Sunday school 
 teachers in many ways more difficult, and also more 
 important A comradeship with teachers was, and 
 always had been, almost a passion with me, for was I 
 not one of them ? I had had some preparation for 
 my editorial work, for I was fortunate in having a wide 
 personal knowledge of Sunday schools, north, south, 
 east, and west, in cities, towns, and villages, and I knew 
 
 194
 
 Editor of "The Sunday School Times" 
 
 and loved hosts of their teachers. As was always the 
 case with me in any new attempt, I did not feel at all 
 sure of achieving success, but I meant earnestly to try. 
 So I looked my task in the face as cheerily as if it had 
 been a veritable Cape of Good Hope ! 
 
 Many kind congratulations and good wishes reached 
 me. Those which came from the Sunday School Union 
 made me especially happy. The Sunday School Chronicle 
 had been for eleven years in existence, and was largely 
 circulated side by side with our Times. The editor, Mr. 
 Benjamin Clarke, was the first to send me a greeting, 
 and a welcome into the ranks of those whom I had afar 
 off regarded as kings the worshipful Company of 
 Editors. Several of the secretaries and other officials 
 also strengthened me with kindly expressions of good- 
 will. With the Sunday School Union I have been 
 associated always, and have been excluded from no 
 part of the great and unique services which the 
 society has rendered to the nation. To all their festivi- 
 ties invitations are sent to me. How many of their 
 meetings I have attended I should be afraid to count, 
 and often have I read papers or spoken for them. I 
 have had a place on their committees, and I am a 
 member of their council, having been first elected to 
 the position by the local Sunday School Unions of 
 Northamptonshire. I was therefore glad that the editor 
 of The Sunday School Chronicle and I, though in some 
 senses rivals, were in every sense friends ; as I believe 
 has been the case with succeeding editors. 
 
 One pleasant recollection I have is that ot attend- 
 ing the centenary of Sunday schools, when the Earl 
 
 195
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 of Shaftesbury unveiled a statue of Robert Raikes, 
 the founder. Large numbers of delegates were 
 present from the United States, Canada, and every part 
 of the world in which Sunday schools had been esta- 
 blished. Canada sent up twenty-six visitors, and the 
 United States no fewer than a hundred and ten. I 
 had the honour of being one of a little group who stood 
 by Sir Charles Reed when, as President of the Union 
 for that year, he received and welcomed the guests. It 
 was rather a wet evening on which they arrived, and 
 the first question he put to them was, " How do you 
 like our climate ? " They appeared all to love it, and 
 everything else that was English, so glad were they to 
 find themselves in the old country. Never was there a 
 happier time than we all had together. Every speaker 
 at every meeting was a Sunday school enthusiast, 
 and the racy speeches of the Americans, the devout 
 prayers and songs of the Germans, the brotherly pride 
 of the Canadians, and the cordiality of the French were 
 all charming. We held high revelry in London for 
 about ten days, and then continued it in the provinces. 
 Among the notable events were a concert at the Albert 
 Hall, a grand day at the Crystal Palace, and a Com- 
 munion Service at the Metropolitan Tabernacle. I 
 think no one who attended this service ever forgot it. 
 Between two and three thousand members of Christian 
 Churches of various names forgot their differences and 
 joined in the Communion. About thirty foreign dele- 
 gates and leading representatives of Great Britain were on 
 the platform and assisted in the service. Mr. Spurgeon's 
 greeting was, " How glad I am to see you present 1 We 
 
 196
 
 Editor of "The Sunday School Times" 
 
 are met together first of all for Communion with the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and next for communion with one 
 another." The service commenced with the hymn, 
 "Come let us sing the song of songs." Dr. Todd 
 of New York, Mr. John Wanamaker of Philadelphia, 
 Vice-Chancellor Blake of Toronto, and the Hon. A. 
 Vidal of Sarnia, Canada, engaged in prayer, and Pasteur 
 Paul Cook followed with a prayer in French. Mr. 
 Spurgeon's address was a very characteristic one. " Our 
 theme to-night is Jesus, and nothing else but Jesus," he 
 said. " Dear brethren and sisters, you have nothing else 
 to teach that I know of. I almost wish that you were 
 as ignorant as I am, for I know nothing else, and when 
 I get to the end of the Gospel I am spun out I know 
 no more, and have no wish to know more. I determine 
 not to know. I am a know-nothing." After the bread 
 and wine had been handed round, and a collection taken 
 on behalf of the Continental Sunday School Mission, 
 Mr. Spurgeon suggested that the whole of the vast 
 congregation should join hands and form an unbroken 
 chain, extending from the floor to the platform, and 
 from the platform to the galleries above, and sing the 
 last two verses of Cowper's hymn 
 
 " E'er since by faith I saw the stream." 
 
 It was not quite easy to link together such a tremendous 
 chain, and it might easily have been ridiculous, but Mr. 
 Spurgeon's tact, and the deep feeling in the hearts of 
 that magnificent company of Sunday school teachers, 
 really made it altogether sublime. 
 
 The tone of all the various meetings wherever they 
 197
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 were held was a high one, every speaker feeling the 
 greatness of the occasion. Women took part in them 
 as well, as men. Miss H. N. Morris, of Brooklyn, gave 
 a most interesting address on " Methods of Teaching," 
 lighting it up with suggestions in regard to illustration. 
 She told the teachers that certain laws had been laid 
 down for their guidance. They were so to approach the 
 famous town of " Man-soul " as Bunyan quaintly quoted 
 it through ear-gate, eye-gate, mouth-gate, or, in other 
 words, through the senses, that the child would be able 
 to grasp the truth ; that is, apprehend it, approve it, and 
 accept it. I find from the Memorial Volume that 
 Marianne Farningham gave a short address : 
 
 "The great schoolmaster of Sunday school teachers is 
 Life the Spirit of God teaching them through their life. It 
 is quite possible to become too bookish. It is better to be a 
 man and a woman in a class than to be the best book ever 
 written. Give your own lessons and not other peoples.' Do 
 not lose your own individuality, and so strive that the great 
 lessons life has taught you may be helpful to you in your 
 classes. We are all working men and women we all have 
 to work by head or hand or both. Whatever our trade or 
 profession it will teach us something ; it will help us in Sunday 
 school teaching. Let us have our eyes, ears, and hearts open, 
 and give to our scholars that which life has given to ourselves. 
 For instance, the experience of one might be this, ' I have had 
 a great sorrow this week ; the sorrow has been sent to me by 
 my Father. How can I use it in my class not speak about 
 it, of course but what has it taught me, that I may teach my 
 scholars better?' Another might say, 'I have a great joy. 
 How can I turn that joy to good account in my class ? ' Or 
 again, ' I have a new thought new thoughts are not so many, 
 
 198
 
 Editor of "The Sunday School Times" 
 
 we do not get them too often at all every new thought comes 
 from God; let me treasure that thought, and give it to my 
 class.' Our successes, our failures, our mistakes, our troubles, 
 and even our worries, if we only know how to use them, may 
 be made of good account in our life work." 
 
 Many kind invitations to visit their country were 
 given to me by friends from America, especially Dr. 
 Vincent and Mr. Wanamaker. They assured me that 
 I should receive a hearty welcome there, and promised 
 to pass me on from city to city and from home to home, 
 and give me a " real good time." But Dr. Clifton, for 
 many years my friend and medical adviser, to whose 
 care and skill I owe much, would not give his consent, 
 and I did not dare to go without it. The Rev. Arthur 
 Mursell and others who had experienced life and work 
 in the United States also dissuaded me from the idea, 
 one going so far as to declare that if I went to America 
 I should not come back alive. I quite believe that I 
 could have gone, either then or later, when appointed a 
 delegate to the world's great Religious Assembly. But 
 my friends were not willing for me to run the risk, and 
 therefore I have never seen the Sunday schools of 
 America, though much wishing to do so. 
 
 The work of editing The Sunday School Times gave 
 me plenty to do, and greatly increased as the years went 
 by. As far as I could, however, and as much for the 
 sake of the journal as anything else, I continued to 
 attend Sunday school meetings occasionally. One of 
 these is very fresh in my memory. I had promised to 
 read a paper at the annual Conference of the Gloucester 
 and Hereford Sunday School Union, when a tempting 
 
 199
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 invitation reached me from friends to accompany them 
 to Rome. I told this to the committee of the Union, 
 and asked them to allow me to alter the date of my 
 visit, but they rigidly held me to my engagement I 
 am afraid that I went to Ross instead of Rome in a 
 rather unholy frame of mind. But it was a very happy 
 time that I had there. My paper was called "The 
 Nation in the Sunday School." I was obliged to read 
 it twice, as there was an overflow meeting. It was 
 afterwards printed in The Sunday School Times. 
 
 After a year of work upon the paper, some of my 
 troubles had begun. In a leading article I wrote 
 
 " We take this opportunity of thanking those correspondents 
 who favour us with original compositions, and at the same 
 time ask their forbearance. It is impossible to return all 
 unsuitable communications, especially when, as is often the 
 case, no stamps accompany them. Our friends should them- 
 selves keep copies. Also we find it necessary to state that 
 manuscripts intended for the printer should be written legibly, 
 and on one side of the paper only. We are compelled, 
 too, to ask if it is not a little unfair to send us copy which 
 writers have not taken the trouble to read over and correct. 
 This of course refers only to a few, but we shall be glad if the 
 few will take the hint." 
 
 From the first I was astonished at the number of 
 authors who wished to contribute to our columns, and 
 every year these have greatly increased. At the 
 present time the serials, short stories, sketches, articles, 
 and poems submitted to the editor, average over five 
 hundred a year. It is this sort of thing, and the enormous 
 
 200
 
 Editor of " The Sunday School Times " 
 
 number of letters it represents, that makes an editor's 
 work difficult and strenuous. 
 
 As to our International Lessons we have been 
 exceptionally fortunate. For several years they were 
 written by the Rev. Samuel Cox, D.D., author of 
 Salvator Mundi," " The Bird's Nest," etc. When, at 
 Mr. Clarke's suggestion, I wrote to ask him to do so, he 
 replied, " It is a great honour to teach those who teach 
 others, and I shall be pleased to conduct the Teachers' 
 Class of The Sunday School Times for a year." This 
 was a great gain to our journal, and to thousands of 
 teachers who gladly sat at the feet of so able an 
 expositor. Dr. Cox lengthened his one year of tuition 
 to three, after which, to our great regret, he was compelled 
 to relinquish the task. For a while the Rev. Howard 
 James stood in the gap. At the present time, and for 
 several years past, we have had another great teacher of 
 teachers. Principal Adeney writes for us what I consider 
 are the very best International Lessons of this, or any 
 other country. The help he has rendered to our teachers 
 has been, and is, of the very highest type ; and we know 
 that it is most gratefully appreciated. 
 
 It did not appear wise or necessary to make any 
 great change in the conduct of The Sunday School Times 
 when it was passed over to me. I thought it might be 
 desirable, however, to give one page to the children, and 
 believe that the little readers in many homes have 
 enjoyed this. The short sermonettes by the Rev. J. 
 C. Carlile have, I know, given much pleasure. For 
 nearly five years the experiment of a monthly com- 
 petition was conducted by " Aunt Patty," my youngest 
 
 201
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 niece, and this brought shoals of letters in the big, round 
 handwriting of the children that one loves. 
 
 I have twice tried to get up a Teachers' Corre- 
 spondence Class, but have not succeeded. Many have 
 appeared quite willing to correspond with me, but not 
 about their work, excepting only a few. 
 
 Many persons subscribe to The Sunday School Times 
 who are not connected with Sunday schools, but who 
 are our very firm friends all the same, regarding the 
 journal as a magazine for the family, as indeed its 
 second title declares it to be. 
 
 I was asked at the beginning of things to keep in 
 mind the Home as well as the School, and have tried to 
 do so. Our short stories and serials have been prominent 
 features, and we have had among the writers of the 
 latter such good names as Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, 
 whose fascinating story, "A Singular Life," delighted 
 every one, Margaret Scott MacRitchie, Emma Raymond 
 Pitman, Eglanton Thorne, G. Holden Pike and Blanche 
 Atkinson. 
 
 It has never been in my power, though often have 
 I wished it were, to become a good writer of hymns, or 
 a novelist. Referring to a story of mine that had 
 appeared in The Sunday School Times, a publisher once 
 took my breath away by saying, " You know you have 
 no style." Yes, alas ! I knew it only too well, and 
 I wished that more time had been left me in which to 
 develop a style. As it was I did my best, and 
 in the columns of The Sunday School Times inserted 
 two serials, which were written with a very earnest 
 purpose. 
 
 202
 
 Editor of " The Sunday School Times " 
 
 The first was called " 1900 ? A Forecast and a Story," 
 but the title fails to express my meaning. I did not 
 expect that which I foreshadowed to occur in one year. 
 It ought to have read " 1900 and What ? " for my 
 hopes were, and still are, that some time during the 
 century, though possibly late, and gradually, the character 
 of English life may be raised to the high estate which 
 I tried to describe. But I am afraid that nothing has 
 come of it. One newspaper indeed said that it was " a 
 worthy contribution to a very great subject," but it was 
 one of the disappointments of my life. I am perhaps 
 half a socialist. One of the people myself, my sympathies 
 are frequently with them, and I long and pray for a 
 future which I shall not live to see, when the workers 
 will live under better conditions, and take their share, 
 because they understand and value them, in the higher 
 pleasures and pursuits which have for so long a time 
 been the exclusive privileges of the favoured few. My 
 story did have a little influence. And better days are 
 coming, for have I not seen the growth of libraries and 
 reading-rooms, garden cities, and better sanitary con- 
 ditions ? Whether or not I added one impulse to the 
 general trend in this direction I am very thankful for 
 what is being accomplished. 
 
 The other story, " A Window in Paris," was written in 
 the interests of peace. Always I have had no sympathy 
 with war, nor any faith in its true efficacy. I remember 
 that once, after delivering my lecture, " The Hush and 
 Rush of Life," a lady came towards the platform and 
 said to me 
 
 " You are so utterly and entirely a woman of peace, 
 203
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 that you will scarcely care to shake hands with a 
 soldier's widow. My name is Havelock." 
 
 "Ah, Lady Havelock," I said, "you honour me 
 greatly. But you must know more than most of the 
 awful results of war." 
 
 " Yes," she said ; " but some grand results follow 
 battles, and many soldiers are fine men." 
 
 I agreed with her, and as I looked in her face I 
 caught a momentary glimpse of the beauty and 
 strength which may be outcomes of sorrow in the life 
 of a soldier's wife. 
 
 The reason why " A Window in Paris " was written 
 was that I had so unique an opportunity of learning 
 many particulars respecting the Franco-Prussian war. 
 Mrs. Clifton-Crick and her husband, a literary man, 
 lived in Paris during all the terrible time of the siege 
 and the Commune. Through mutual friends I made the 
 acquaintance of Mrs. Crick and her daughter, and heard 
 the story most graphically told. Of course I wanted to 
 write it, as everything else I saw and heard during those 
 busy years ; and that I might be better able to do so 
 she made room for me and my niece, in her house, and 
 we spent some time in the gay city, which appeared 
 rapidly to be recovering herself. Mr. Crick did not 
 long survive the sufferings and privations to which he 
 had been subjected, but Mrs. Crick lived to a good old 
 age a wonderful woman with a marvellous memory. 
 Her daughter, Mary Clifton-Crick, was in Germany 
 during those awful years, but she lived with her mother 
 in Paris now, and became to me a dear and honoured 
 friend. They have, alas ! both passed away, but the time 
 
 204
 
 Editor of " The Sunday School Times " 
 
 spent with them, listening to the story of the tragic 
 events that were enacted near them, was one which 
 I shall never forget, and memory calls before me the 
 room in the pleasant flat where I wrote the chapters which 
 were soon after inserted in The Sunday School Times. 
 It was in the autumn of 1 896 that I wrote the story ; 
 it was published in The Sunday School Times in 1897, 
 and in book form during the following year. This was 
 one of the events, and I had many, that gave zest to my 
 work as an editor. 
 
 It was only natural that, being interested in all 
 young people, I should be particularly glad to be in 
 association with young writers. They are always hope- 
 ful subjects, and their first attempts are frequently full 
 of promise. A young writer's first endeavour is warm 
 with fresh love and imagination. I see now, some- 
 times, in other magazines and journals, quite familiar 
 names of those who sent me their early productions, 
 perhaps a little timidly ; but, after a time, thinking 
 they could do better, they betook themselves to fresh 
 fields and pastures new. I am, I think, a little proud 
 of those who began their journalistic life with me, and 
 then took the next step up the ladder. God speed 
 them. 
 
 At the beginning of 1898 when, happily for us all, 
 Professor Adeney began his series of Talks on the 
 International Lessons, The Sunday School Times was 
 printed in new type, and was therefore the more worthy 
 to carry the good thoughts and words that were entrusted 
 to it There have been many of them. Our contributors 
 have been a large band, numbering several hundreds, 
 
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 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 but they have been bound together by a strong chain ot 
 good will. I am glad to take this opportunity of ex- 
 pressing my appreciation of the excellent work they 
 have done, and the spirit they have put into it. They 
 have understood and respected the tone and inten- 
 tion of the journal. We have worked in almost 
 absolute harmony, and the ruling spirit of our com- 
 munity has been that of trust and peace. It is not 
 an easy thing to be an editor, but it has been more 
 easy to me than to many, because those who have 
 worked with me have been friendly, good-tempered, 
 and kind. 
 
 I have felt it to be an honour and a privilege to have 
 had the conduct of this little paper for so many years. 
 It is a favourite with its readers. It is a friend whom 
 they know and love, and they do not weary of it, even 
 though the years pass and other aspirants for their 
 favour arise. Everybody seems to agree that it is a 
 wonderful little paper for the money, and I certainly 
 think so too. I am comforted to believe that it has not 
 lost its position during these later years, since it became 
 my responsibility and joy. It has been my earnest 
 desire that it should be a minister in the home, a teacher 
 of teachers, a companion for the young, and as I know 
 it has been in many cases, a recognized friend of the old. 
 Letters from all parts of the world have come to me 
 acknowledging the help received from it. I little 
 expected so long to have the health, strength, and 
 ability to keep my post, but we get our lessons one by 
 one, and strength as we need it. God trains His 
 servants while they work, and when we try in simple 
 
 206
 
 Editor of " The Sunday School Times " 
 
 faith to "do the first thing," He makes the next clear 
 to us. 
 
 And now, at the end of 1906, I have for twenty- 
 one years been the editor of The Sunday School 
 Times. 
 
 207
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 SORROW AND JOY, WORK AND REST 
 
 A GREAT loss fell upon us in the spring of 1888 by 
 the death of Mr. James Clarke, the proprietor and 
 editor of The Christian World, in the 64th year of his 
 age. He had been ill for more than a year, but he wrote 
 in his own genial style a New Year's address to the 
 readers of The Christian World, which was then entering 
 upon its thirty-second year. Until only a few days before 
 his death it was hoped that he would recover, but heart 
 weakness rapidly increased towards the last, and the sad 
 news was proclaimed to the world that his work was 
 finished. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's personality was very striking ; his 
 warmth of heart, his kindly disposition, his unfailing 
 courtesy, his courage and faithfulness to conviction, were 
 as marked as his journalistic genius. To know him was 
 to love him. From the office boys to the heads of 
 departments he was regarded with affectionate esteem 
 and reverence. I felt it a privilege, as did every one, to 
 work under a man who was so sensitively regardful of 
 the feelings of others. He loved to have his contributors 
 about him. His beautiful home at Caterham was a very 
 happy one, not only to his own family, which consisted 
 
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 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 of three sons and three daughters, but to many who 
 enjoyed his friendliness and hospitality. My visits, 
 while the family was yet unbroken, were delightful 
 times. Afterward, when most of the young people were 
 away in homes of their own, the lawns and the library 
 were still winsome places, but when the master died 
 there was a great blank over all, and although I still 
 visited Beechhanger, and had some peaceful days and 
 lovely drives over the Surrey Downs with Mrs. Clarke 
 and her sons, who were always good to me, Caterham 
 could not be quite the same again. 
 
 It is impossible to estimate the far-reaching influence 
 which, through The Christian World, Mr. Clarke's 
 religious convictions had upon the times in which he 
 lived. He loved truth and exalted righteousness of 
 every kind. He believed in the free expression of 
 opinion, and in fearlessly facing the problems of the age. 
 He was not afraid of that which was new, and though 
 there was great reverence in his nature, he did not 
 hesitate to attack any dogma merely because it was old. 
 His own faith seemed always beautifully sincere and 
 simple, and its outcome was a brave and blameless life. 
 To have personal talk with him was to desire earnestly 
 to have for one's own the larger hopes, and wider 
 outlook, and deeper insight which characterized him ; to 
 think more generous thoughts, and to be afraid of 
 nothing but that which was wrong. Often have I wished 
 that those who said bitter things of his theology could 
 have known the real man. 
 
 I have frequently seen him pained by the cruel things 
 that were said of him at the time when Mr. Spurgeon 
 
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 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 denounced The Christian World and all its followers as 
 on tJte down grade, but Mr. Clarke was too brave, and 
 his convictions were too strong, to let him be turned 
 from his purpose. The advanced views advocated in 
 The Christian World no doubt lost some subscribers, 
 but I do not think they cost Mr. Clarke a single friend. 
 I was travelling to London with him one morning, when 
 Mr. Spurgeon's head suddenly appeared over the division 
 which separated us from the next compartment. 
 
 " Hullo, Clarke ; how are you ? " he shouted. It was 
 delightful to see the two men grasp each other's hand in 
 true brotherhood, while at that very time a fierce theo- 
 logical war was going on between them. Mr. Spurgeon 
 presented to Mr. Clarke in 1865 twenty- two volumes of 
 his sermons, with an autograph letter of thanks for aid 
 rendered. 
 
 There was a time when Mr. Clarke was urged to 
 publish a Daily Christian World. He talked to me 
 of it, but said, " I am beginning to be afraid of that 
 which is high. This morning, opening the Book, and 
 letting my eyes rest on the first words that met them, I 
 read again that wonderful description of the time when 
 ' the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong 
 men bow themselves ' ; also ' when they shall be afraid 
 of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way.' " 
 
 " But you are not old," I said. 
 
 " No ? " he queried, with a smile. " Well, I believe 
 in the immortality of the soul." 
 
 No, he did not remain with us long enough to grow 
 old ; but what a magnificent work he accomplished 
 before he went to sleep, and left to his sons their great 
 
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 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 heritage of opportunity and responsibility a trust 
 which they assumed with absolute fidelity ! 
 
 Mr. Clarke was a born editor. He realized the 
 greatness of his calling, and his whole soul was in the 
 work to which he was sure that he had been appointed 
 by God. He was like one of the men of Issachar who 
 had " understanding of the times, to know what Israel 
 ought to do." Even those who did not agree with all his 
 opinions yet gave him honour for the great goodness that 
 was in him, and the faithfulness of his life and work. 
 
 For several years before his father's death, Mr. James 
 Greville Clarke, the eldest son, had practically edited 
 The Christian World, so that there was no great change 
 in the paper when he became the editor-in-chief, assisted 
 by his youngest brother, Mr. Herbert Clarke. Neither 
 did it make any difference to my position. From the 
 first I was treated by Mr. James with the same kind 
 courtesy and sympathetic consideration always mani- 
 fested by his father, with perhaps an added gentleness 
 and regard to mark his appreciation of the difference in 
 our ages. Never did workers receive from their masters 
 more graceful recognition than I. 
 
 Early in the following year, 1889, I had a rather 
 serious break-down. This was, I think, the result of 
 anxiety and trouble, as well as the quantity of work I 
 was then doing, which was considerable. The previous 
 year was a very dark one to me, and those who were my 
 dearest. My brother had gone to South Africa some 
 years before, with my sister's husband. The latter had 
 been, for some months, in all his letters, expressing an 
 earnest wish that my sister should go out to him and 
 
 211
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 when he sent the necessary tickets it seemed right that 
 she should. Naturally she had felt his absence very 
 much, and was herself far from well, and as we all hoped 
 a change would do her more good than anything, we 
 brought ourselves very reluctantly to face the parting. 
 Her eldest daughter and I went to London to see her off 
 by the boat. It was Lord Mayor's Day, and as dreary 
 as November could possibly be. When we reached 
 home a letter awaited us containing the sad tidings of 
 the death of my brother ; and the first thing I had to do 
 was to break the news to his only daughter, who was 
 staying at my house, and afterward to his wife and son. 
 
 My sister had taken her two youngest boys with her. 
 One of those left behind was in a situation at Rushden. 
 After my sister had been on the water a very few days, 
 news came to us that this boy was ill. It proved to be 
 a very serious case of typhoid fever, and we were afraid, 
 after hearing the grave opinion of the doctor, that the 
 first news we would have to send to his mother would be 
 that of his death. But God was good to us, and spared 
 one, who, to our comfort, remains with us to-day. Of 
 course these anxieties and troubles following one after 
 another proved a great strain on heart and nerve. 
 
 In February, 1889, I went to Sheffield, at the request 
 of my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell, to give a lecture 
 on behalf of either the Sunday School or Temperance 
 Society in which they were interested, for, although I 
 had given up lecturing as a profession, I occasionally 
 delivered one for special purposes. When the evening 
 came on which I was to do this bit of work I had become 
 very unwell. Seldom before had I broken an engagement 
 
 212
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 or failed to do that which I had undertaken, but I thought 
 it was impossible for me to speak to an audience that 
 night. However, my friends did all they could for me, 
 and we drove down to the chapel. Again in the vestry 
 I became very faint. Some sal volatile and a scent- 
 bottle restored me a little, and I went to the platform 
 in the hope that I might be able to speak. For some 
 time a cloud seemed to rest on the people, and I could 
 not see them ; but fortunately I could see my manu- 
 script, and in a half-blind, dazed way I went through it. 
 But I was ill again at the end, and my friends were 
 naturally alarmed. The next day, with the same loving 
 kindness which I have often experienced, they took me 
 to Grange, and to a hydropathic establishment for 
 treatment. It was so unusual for me to feel ill, however, 
 that I was afraid this attack would prove serious, and as 
 soon as possible went home and consulted my own 
 doctor, feeling sure that he would understand my case 
 and help me. 
 
 Dr. Clifton said that I was suffering from overwork 
 and brain fag, and that unless I had an immediate and 
 lengthened rest, I might consider my life-work done. 
 He wrote to Messrs. Clarke stating the fact, and giving 
 his opinion that there would remain yet some years 
 of service in me, if now I took adequate rest ; but 
 without it there would be an utter collapse. They were, 
 of course, extremely kind, and offered me a respite of 
 more months than I wished. Mr. Percy Clarke, the head 
 of the great publishing business, told me with kindly 
 humour that it would be no use for me to send contri- 
 butions to The Christian World, for they would not be 
 
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 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 inserted, for at least three months. So there was nothing 
 left for me to do but take the first real holiday I had 
 had since commencing my literary engagements. Plenty 
 of travel and change had fallen to my lot, but hitherto 
 I had always taken my work with me, never failing to 
 tell my readers where I was, and what I saw. Things 
 were now made beautifully easy and pleasant for me. 
 My eldest niece, Miss Sharwood, known to the readers of 
 The Sunday School Times as R. E. S. T., undertook to 
 edit the paper, and I knew that I was leaving it in good 
 hands. The lady who had been my friend and com- 
 panion during my lecturing tours, knowing of the great 
 longing I always had to see Italy, suggested that I 
 should take this opportunity of going, and offered to 
 accompany me at her own expense. Mr. Clarke had 
 left me a legacy of a hundred pounds, and I thought I 
 could not more wisely use half of it, than in trying to 
 become well and strong in order to continue to serve the 
 papers in which we had been associated. 
 
 That I needed a holiday was quite certain, and I think 
 perhaps I deserved it. Almost without a break, I had 
 for thirty years, week by week, contributed regularly 
 both prose and verse to the two papers Tfte Christian 
 World and The Sunday School Times, increasing in 
 quantity as the years went on, besides frequent stories 
 and articles to the Christian World Magazine, Happy 
 Hours, and other publications. A few weeks ago I 
 looked through some old volumes of our journals, at 
 the British Museum, and was really amazed at the out- 
 put of my pen. It made me a little tired even to recall 
 those years of work. The wonder was that the 
 
 214
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 breakdown had not come at some previous time during 
 the thirty years. But I had not realized how hard I 
 was working, because the work to me was so intensely 
 interesting, and I loved it so much. 
 
 In the kitchen of my little birthplace at Farningham, 
 one winter's evening when I happened to be alone, I, 
 being then fourteen years of age, by the help of an atlas 
 and a gazetteer, mapped out a tour through Italy, which 
 now that I was over fifty was to become an accomplished 
 fact. The very thought of its possibility began to make 
 me well. It was too delightful. The head of one of the 
 great tourist agencies offered me special terms to travel 
 in their personally conducted party, but that was the last 
 thing which I wished to do, or that would have been 
 good for me. We went by our two selves, and under 
 no other conditions could the holiday have satisfied me 
 so completely. My friend spoke excellent French, which 
 carried us happily through. My knowledge of the 
 language is comprised in out and merci, but her use of it 
 in France, Switzerland and Italy proved adequate to all 
 our needs. 
 
 We started on our delightful holiday in high spirits, 
 and with the good wishes of hosts of friends, spending 
 the first night in Paris, and the second at a little wayside 
 inn at Culoz. Next day we reached Turin, so making 
 our first acquaintance with Piedmont, and getting a 
 beautiful view of the Monte Rosa chain of the Alps. 
 Turin is a fine city, and as it was the first we saw in 
 Italy we were duly impressed. I knew nothing about 
 pictures. Art was to me a closed book, but the most^> 
 ignorant person could not visit Italy without receiving 
 
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 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 more knowledge than all the books of the world could 
 give, nor without being awakened to admiration and 
 reverence. The walk through the city charmed us 
 exceedingly, especially the Piazza. Carlo Emanuele, 
 with its fine monument of Cavour. But we knew there 
 were better things to follow, and without lingering in 
 Turin, hastened on to Genoa, the beautiful city of 
 marble, on the Italian Riviera. We arrived during a 
 thunderstorm, and found the Mediterranean looking as 
 black as ink. While my friend attended to the baggage 
 I ran along what seemed an interminable line of omni- 
 buses, with the names of their hotels prominent in large 
 lines upon them. They all looked very foreign and 
 strange, until I came to one which bore in big letters the 
 words, "Hotel Smith." That was comfortably familiar and 
 English, so we took our seats in it, and were soon, with 
 our belongings, driven away to the harbour, and settled 
 in the hotel. The next day and during the whole of our 
 stay we had Italian weather, brilliant and beautiful, and 
 we were able to see a good deal of the city, its delightful 
 old palaces, its grand shops, its magnificent promenades, 
 and the interesting life at the port and in the markets. 
 From Genoa, we went to Pisa, that wonderful old city 
 of the leaning tower, which everybody wants to visit. 
 It was less high than I expected to find it, and we 
 climbed the two hundred and ninety-four steps, in order 
 to get the fine view which is seen from the summit. 
 The cathedral was still more wonderful, with its fine 
 nave and aisles, and the whole building of white 
 marble with black decorations. It has very fine, bronze 
 doors, and another door of the twelfth century exhibits 
 
 216
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 representations of twenty-four subjects from the Bible. 
 There is a bronze lamp hanging in the nave which is 
 said to have suggested to Galileo the idea of a pendulum. 
 It is of Galileo one thinks most at Pisa, it was from the 
 top of the leaning tower that he made experiments in 
 the laws of gravitation. We also visited the Campo 
 Santo, and saw its paintings and sculptures, a wonderful 
 burying-place indeed. Its founder, Archbishop Ubaldo, 
 intended that the dead of Pisa should rest in holy 
 ground, for he had fifty-three ship loads of earth brought 
 from Mount Calvary. 
 
 On several occasions we got some fun from our 
 fellow-countrymen. While we were dining in the hotel 
 at Pisa a gentleman told us that we should by no means 
 miss Siena, and that we should arrange to be there on 
 Easter Sunday, and stay at a certain hotel, the name of 
 which he gave us, because it was the only place he knew 
 in Italy where we could get lamb and mint-sauce ! 
 
 But even that urgent reason did not suffice to pre- 
 vent ns from keeping our resolution to spend Easter in 
 Rome. It was a wonderful ride we had along the coast 
 of the Mediterranean, and still more wonderful it seemed 
 when we arrived, and heard the officials at the station 
 crying Roma, Roma, and so realized, with a thrill of 
 delight, that we had reached the city of dream and 
 desire. 
 
 We were met at the station by Mr. Shaw, a Baptist 
 missionary from England, who had secured rooms for 
 us in the Via Sistina, and who, with Mrs. Shaw, showed 
 us much kindness during our stay. What it was to 
 wake up the next morning actually in Rome ! We 
 
 217
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 were out early, in the delicious air, which seemed 
 positively intoxicating. I had the same feeling every 
 morning. I could have wished myself a boy, that I 
 might throw up my hat and dance for joy. We meant 
 to spend in all about three weeks in Rome, but would 
 not have found three years too long in which to see all 
 its wonders as they should be seen. I cannot pretend 
 to write about Rome, that would require nothing less 
 than a whole book, written by a far abler pen ; neither 
 can I put into words the feeling with which I and my 
 friend saw the walls and the stones, the churches and 
 the villas, the museums and the galleries. To walk by 
 the Tiber, to stand in the Forum, to see the basilicas 
 and temples, the arches and the baths, to stand on the 
 Palatine Hill and the Capitoline Hill, is, certainly, like 
 nothing else in the world. Our friend Mr. Shaw took 
 us through those marvellous ruins, and he was a kind 
 and wise guide, for he knew all about them. For our- 
 selves we were silent through wonder, and the imagina- 
 tion itself was baffled in trying to realize only a part ot 
 what this Roman Forum meant. We felt as if we 
 could only take a little of old Rome at a time, and 
 indeed, as I look back, it seems that we scarcely began 
 to see it. There was too much for eyes and brain to 
 comprehend, and the wonder of it all was too bewilder- 
 ing. Of course we spent Easter Sunday at St. Peter's. 
 But if I were to go to Rome a dozen times I would 
 keep away from that marvellous cathedral on that day. 
 It was crowded, chiefly with other people than the 
 Romans. Americans largely predominated, Germans 
 were there in full force, and a large contingent of 
 
 218
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 English people. I was grieved at the great lack of 
 reverence and courtesy in some of them. In one part 
 of the service a group of men speaking our language, 
 were talking and laughing during most of the time. I 
 was glad to hear an English woman say to her daughter, 
 " See, my child, these people are kneeling. Let us 
 either kneel or leave the church. All this is very real 
 and solemn to them, although we cannot understand it." 
 The Pope did not appear on that Easter Sunday, and I 
 confess that both St. Peter's itself and the Easter 
 service in it were among my disappointments in Italy. 
 The church is so enormous, the tombs of the popes are 
 so predominant, that in order to see St. Peter's as it 
 really is, some quiet hours must be spent in it. After- 
 wards we did justice to it and other beautiful Roman 
 churches. 
 
 I am afraid that as long as I live I shall not cease to 
 regret that I have not been able to pay a second visit to 
 Rome, with leisure to write my impressions as they 
 came to me. There was no necessity for me to do 
 this. The world has so many books on Rome that it 
 could not be the gainer for one by Marianne Farning- 
 ham. But my own personal joy in doing it would have 
 been great. 
 
 Some memories I keep, however, which are of 
 priceless value to me in these quieter days. A long 
 morning in the Sistine Chapel is one of them. The 
 wonders of that twenty months' work by Michael 
 Angelo, the marvellous roof, and the side walls, on 
 which are the gems of other painters, the altar of 
 mother-of-pearl, ivory, and tortoiseshell, remain with me 
 
 219
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 like a beautiful dream, only too elusive. Then there was 
 the colosseum, that great work of the captive Jews 
 whom Titus brought from Palestine, the grandest of all 
 the Roman amphitheatres. It was quite easy as we 
 stood within the colosseum to lose ourselves altogether, 
 and feel that we were in another world and another 
 age. It was illuminated during our stay, but we did not 
 care to see it lighted by gas, or hung with Chinese 
 lanterns ; somehow that seemed to our minds incon- 
 gruous, remembering the martyrdoms which those old 
 walls had seen. It was very interesting to examine the 
 plants that were growing in the walls, many of them, we 
 were told, quite unique, and I am glad we saw the 
 colosseum before, by modern order, it was cleared of all 
 its flora. We saw the Mamertine Prison, and the Cata- 
 combs, and had a drive along the Appian Way. We 
 also saw the fountains of Rome, but omitted to drink of 
 the water of Trevi, though we were told that those who 
 drank it were certain to return to Rome ! 
 
 Naples was the next city which we visited. It did 
 not delight us as Rome had done. We were unfortunate 
 in our hotel ; the weather also was not very kind to us. 
 There was little sunshine, but intense heat, and as for 
 noise and dust they oppressed us exceedingly. On 
 returning from one short drive we looked like dusty 
 millers. We went out on that beautiful bay to visit 
 Capri, and see the Blue Grotto. We should have liked 
 to stay at Capri, the most enchanting spot of the western 
 Mediterranean ; it is no wonder that artists love it. 
 We had a guide, a good-looking Italian boy with 
 wonderful eyes, who told us that he could speak 
 
 220
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 Engleesh, and show us the fine views. I thought it 
 would be pleasant to have things explained in our own 
 language, so we engaged him and discovered that he 
 had already uttered all the English he knew, excepting 
 " very nice," and " good-bye." 
 
 We travelled by rail from Naples to Pompeii. We 
 did not call at Herculaneum, not having time for every- 
 thing, but it was strange to hear the name shouted by 
 the porters as our train came to a halt at the platform. 
 We spent a night at a small hotel just outside the city 
 of Pompeii, and in full view of Vesuvius. I do not think 
 we slept much. We had a feeling of being almost out- 
 of-doors. We could not fasten ourselves in, and during 
 the night the glow of the mountain, which was in 
 slight eruption, was much too fascinating to allow us 
 to close our eyes for long together. At seven o'clock 
 in the morning we were admitted, and began our walk 
 through the streets, having entered by the Porta Marina, 
 stopping to look at the Temple of Apollo, the Temple 
 of Jupiter, with its triumphal arch, the Macello, the 
 market for provisions, and the Temple of Mercury. We 
 went into the great theatre, in which five thousand 
 spectators used to be accommodated and witness the 
 plays. It was early in the spring when we were there, 
 but we could imagine that the awning, which was 
 put over it in the summer, and the water which was 
 sprayed to keep the audience cool, must have been most 
 acceptable. It was not difficult, by the aid of our very 
 intelligent guide, who spoke excellent English, to picture 
 the scene, though now only the lizards inhabited it, and 
 instead of the grand dresses which decorated the seats 
 
 221
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 were lovely tufts of maidenhair fern. It was wonderful 
 to see the dwelling-houses of the people as they were 
 when that awful rain of ashes and pumice-stone buried 
 them the grand house of Marcus Lucretius, the shoe- 
 maker's shop, the Villa of Diomedes, where, two thousand 
 years after the catastrophe, eighteen skeletons were found 
 of inmates who had been suffocated ; the proprietor, 
 with the key in his hand, being discovered near. One 
 leaves Pompeii with the conviction that there is nothing 
 more remarkable to see in the whole world. 
 
 We resolved to drive to Castellamare and Sorrento. 
 We were told that we could have " a horse and a half " 
 to take us, the meaning of which curious information we 
 discovered to be that our carriage would be drawn by a 
 big horse and a little one. It was a most charming 
 drive, especially the part from Castellamare along the 
 coast road, between the five mountains on one side, and 
 the beautiful Bay of Naples on the other, to Sorrento, the 
 most delightful bathing resort of Southern Italy. 
 
 After a short stay there, we left the south, with a 
 sigh that we had come to the furthest extent of our tour, 
 and must now turn our faces northward. 
 
 We called at Rome on our return journey, spending 
 more happy days, but not enough to satisfy us. The 
 mother of a former member of my Bible-class was living 
 in the city, and she kindly became our guide. Among 
 the pleasures of this visit was the opportunity of be- 
 coming acquainted with those heroic workers in the 
 Holy City, Mr. and Mrs. Wall and their family. Never 
 shall I forget a meeting of beggars which I attended, 
 and which was conducted by Miss Wall ; they were so 
 
 222
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 poor, dirty, and wretched, and she was so tender and 
 compassionate. Another incident which delighted me 
 was that on Sunday evening I visited a hall in which 
 were held services in English. I was very glad to find 
 that Dr. Barnardo was the preacher. He took for his 
 text, " Ye belong to Christ." A few years before I had 
 made his acquaintance at the house of a mutual friend, 
 and it was very good to see and hear him again. 
 
 From Rome we went to Perugia, and gained a little 
 insight into the paintings of the Umbrian School. At 
 Perugia we were quite near to Assisi, to which most 
 interesting place I allowed my friend to go alone, to my 
 never-ending regret, if not remorse. I was so tired that 
 it seemed to me more desirable than anything to take 
 a couple of rest-days. I did not know so much about 
 Assisi and St. Francis then. But when she talked to 
 me of what she had seen, and later when I read more, I 
 would have given anything to have another chance. But 
 it has never come to me. 
 
 From Perugia we journeyed to Florence the Fair, 
 and the greatly beloved. 
 
 Florence more than came up to our anticipation, and 
 we spent a week among its glorious wealth of beauty 
 and art. Our first visit was to the Baptistery, with its 
 wonderful bronze doors, declared by Michael Angelo 
 worthy to be the gates of Paradise. We ascended the 
 Campanile, the Shepherd's Tower, and saw as far as we 
 were able the work of "the great and dear master" 
 Giotto, the story of whose life and achievements is more 
 fascinating than any novel. We spent indescribable 
 days in the Uffizi and Pitti palaces and picture galleries. 
 
 223
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 The hours were golden that we spent in the churches, 
 Santa Croce, Santa Maria Novella, and the monastery 
 of San Marco, having our eyes delighted and our hearts 
 stirred by the masterpieces of Fra Angelico, and recall- 
 ing memories of Savonarola. With Ruskin's " Mornings 
 in Florence " in my hand, I went one day to the Spanish 
 N Chapel to study "The Vaulted Roof." I became so 
 absorbed that I did not know how the hours were 
 passing, gave no thought indeed to time, and even 
 forgot to be hungry, a quite unusual thing with me. 
 When at last a monk came and asked me respectfully if 
 I could retire, I was amazed to find myself the only 
 visitor in the church, and to see that the day was wearing 
 to evening. I have been to Florence once since, and I 
 advise all who can to see again and again that winsome 
 city. 
 
 But Venice was calling us, and we might not linger, 
 except to pay short visits to Bologna and Padua. 
 Every one who reads at all must desire to see Venice 
 and its wonderful waterways. It was a delightful 
 experience to step into a gondola instead of into a cab 
 when we arrived, and so to be taken over the silent water 
 to our hotel on the Grand Canal. I could scarcely give 
 the reason why, but no church that I have ever seen 
 made me fee! so much as St. Mark's. Whenever I went 
 into it I was conscious of an atmosphere of old-time 
 worship, and it seemed to people itself with the men 
 and women of the past. The marble mosaic pavement 
 is unique, and all the mosaics that enrich the church 
 and the colouring of the whole place are matchless. 
 The altar-piece of gold containing the figure of our 
 
 224
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 Saviour surrounded by angels and archangels was over- 
 whelmingly beautiful. There was an old picture placed 
 at the left of the altar that always brought tears to my 
 eyes. Of course there is so much to see in Venice 
 besides St. Mark's Square, that several days are needed 
 to become at all conversant with its interest and beauty. 
 The Doges' Palace, the Rialto Bridge, the long succession 
 of marble palaces, with some of which we associate the 
 names of Ruskin and Browning, all increase the fascina- 
 tions of Venice, as everybody knows. But the gondolas 
 on the water are a source of ever-living pleasure, the 
 illuminations, the serenades and the concerts add 
 to the delights of this island city. Our gondolier 
 always pushed the nose of his black boat through the 
 crowd that we might secure the best place from which 
 to see and hear. But we did not feel quite like the girl 
 visitor of whom a friend told me, who wrote a letter 
 home saying, " My holiday is magnificent. I have spent 
 three days on the Grand Canal, drinking it all in ! " 
 
 We were more willing to leave Venice, because we 
 were bound for the Italian lakes. "Are the Italian 
 lakes so very, very beautiful ? " I remember asking the 
 Rev. Thomas Arnold, of Northampton, once, when he 
 had returned from Italy. He looked at me for a 
 moment, and then he said, " Miss Hearn, you have 
 never dreamed of anything so perfectly, exquisitely 
 beautiful." I did not know then that I should ever see 
 them, but these words of his were with me always, and 
 were more than justified. 
 
 We did not stay long at Milan, though long enough 
 to see some of its palaces and piazzas, and especially its 
 
 225 p
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 fine cathedral, which we were told is the most mag- 
 nificent Gothic structure in the world. We spent some 
 time in the interio.:, and then ascended to the dome, 
 and on the top of the tower, among the pinnacles, we 
 rested for a while. The whole cathedral of white marble 
 is dazzling in the sun, and entrancingly lovely in the 
 moonlight 
 
 The train conveyed us from Milan to Como, the 
 lake of which most of us have had visions. We stayed 
 at the Villa d'Este, where the nightingales sang to us 
 all night, and the fireflies lighted the darkness. It is 
 a place in which to become absolutely saturated with 
 beauty. We visited Lugano, and ascended Monte Sal- 
 vatore, from which fine views are obtained of Monte 
 Rosa, the Matterhorn, and other Alpine mountains. 
 From Lugano we went to Lake Maggiore, by steamer, 
 and visited the Borromean Islands. 
 
 And now, having had a full feast of lovely scenery 
 we left Lugano for Lucerne, travelling through the great 
 St. Gothard Tunnel, and spending one night at Ander- 
 matt. What a change! We had been carrying our 
 wraps through Italy and had wished them anywhere 
 but with us, for they had never been unfastened, except 
 to be examined on the frontier. But now we found 
 ourselves in the region of snow and ice, and were only 
 too glad to use all the warm things we had with us. 
 We were a little in advance of the stream of visitors, 
 only one hotel was open, and we seemed to have the 
 whole village to ourselves. So we went back next 
 morning over the Devil's Bridge to Goeschenen, and 
 through the spiral tunnels by the Swiss town of Altdorf, 
 
 226
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 with its traditions of William Tell, to Fluelen, and 
 thence by the steamer to Lucerne. Here we tarried 
 for a few days, the Rigi and Pilatus full in view, until 
 our time had nearly expired and we journeyed towards 
 home, after calling at Paris to visit the Exhibition. 
 
 Now, I put it to my readers, whether it was not well 
 worth while to have a breakdown which secured such 
 a wonderful three months' holiday ? It troubled me 
 more than a little that I, whose life was spent in search 
 for copy, should have been debarred by my orders, and 
 promise, from using the splendid subjects which my 
 tour through Italy had afforded me. My only com- 
 munication which appeared in print during the three 
 months of my holiday was a letter, addressed to "Our 
 Class from its Absent Teacher." It was dated Perugia, 
 Sunday afternoon, May 5, 1889. It began 
 
 " MY DEAR GIRLS, I am spending a quiet Sunday at this 
 quaint, beautifully situated town, and as I cannot speak to you, 
 I will send you a few words in writing. At this time you are 
 met together I hope, in our pleasant class-room, and I have 
 been picturing you, in your usual places, and asking that our 
 Father may bless and make a blessing whoever has the privilege 
 of talking to you." (I told them of Rome and Mr. Wall's 
 Sunday school.) " The scholars of one class were men, and 
 of another women, and of all ages, down to very young children. 
 Mr. Wall asked me to say a few words, which he translated 
 into Italian, sentence by sentence. This was a very strange 
 experience for me, and I felt much more nervous than if I had 
 been standing face to face with my own dear class. But when 
 I had finished there was a unanimous murmur of voices, and 
 all eyes looked to me so kindly that I knew, even before Mr. 
 Wall told me, that they were thanking me, and expressing 
 
 227
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 their good wishes." I told the girls something of Naples, 
 Pompeii and other places, and ended by saying, "You see 
 I am taking a very long holiday, and I am sorry to remain so 
 many Sundays away from you, but you will be glad to hear 
 that I am well enough to enjoy it all, and hope to see you 
 again in a month or six weeks." 
 
 I took some notes, and found subjects for articles 
 and poems when my holiday was over, but I have 
 always been sorry for the waste of so much rich material. 
 By the end of June I was at home again, and an article 
 appeared in The S^mday School Times on the " Rest- 
 fulness of Solitude." But in July, a World's Sunday 
 School Convention was again held, and I had to find 
 other charms than those of solitude. I was glad to take 
 up my work again, to contribute to the papers that I 
 loved, and to meet the class toward which absence 
 had made my heart grow fonder. But I never did 
 quite as much work afterward as I had done before, 
 because everybody warned me not to, although I really 
 felt well and strong. 
 
 Perhaps the friends who care enough for me to read 
 this autobiography will forgive another exhibition of my 
 egotism if I say a little here about my health. In my 
 early days there was, I believe, a legend to the effect 
 that I was a confirmed invalid. Perhaps that was 
 because of what one critic called my " weakly poems " ! 
 But the fact is during the years of my literary work, 
 now numbering nearly fifty, I have on the whole enjoyed 
 excellent health. When I was about twenty-one years 
 of age I tried to insure my life. To my great astonish- 
 ment, the doctor of the society refused to pass me. I was 
 
 228
 
 Sorrow and Joy, Work and Rest 
 
 very nettled and tried another agency, with the same 
 result. Pressed to give a reason, this doctor informed 
 me that none of the few insurance companies open to 
 women would accept me, because my heart was not right. 
 This was rather a blow to me on the very threshold 
 of my career. But after thinking the matter through, 
 and reminding myself that I was feeling quite well and 
 strong, and with a mind to work, I resolved to tell no 
 one about it, and certainly not to let it spoil my life. 
 There were so many interesting things into which I 
 wished to put my heart that I could not afford to 
 acknowledge its weakness, and I had faith to believe 
 it would be able to meet my demands : and I really 
 think it rose to the occasion. I have had a good many 
 little illnesses, but never a serious one. Once after I 
 had been giving a lecture in Kent, and the room had 
 been crowded, I was as usual standing outside in the 
 cold fresh air, more than willing to speak to any friend 
 who desired to shake hands with me. A cousin of my 
 father's putting a wrap round me, said, " Remember that 
 you belong to a consumptive family, and a cold is a 
 dangerous thing for you." I cannot recollect, however, 
 that I was specially liable to cold through all that busy 
 time. 
 
 But what a large sum of money was lost by that 
 insurance company which refused to accept me fifty 
 years ago 1 
 
 229
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 MY COTTAGE AT BARMOUTH 
 
 FOR all the later part of my life I have been so 
 happy as to have a real health resort of my own. 
 There never was a time when I did not greatly desire to 
 possess a cottage in the country or by the sea. During 
 the years when it appeared as impossible of realization as 
 to " dwell in marble halls," I used to dream of it and talk 
 of it. What would it be, I thought, to have a little place 
 of my own, to which I could go when I had a chance, 
 without having to seek for lodgings, or wait for oppor- 
 tunity a cot of my very own, to which I should have 
 right of entry, and which would be like a second 
 home ! I did not mind how rough and small it was ; a 
 flat in a fashionable seaside resort, or a big house some- 
 where, was not in the least what I wanted ; but a little 
 crib with nothing spoilable in it, which I should not be 
 afraid to shut up, which I could lend to my friends 
 whose tastes also lay in this direction, was what my 
 soul desired. 
 
 At l#st a friend was good enough to offer to build 
 me a cottage in the most beautiful part of Derbyshire ; 
 and this brought the desire of my heart nearer to accom- 
 plishment But I knew that, though the Peak District 
 
 230
 
 My Cottage at Barmouth 
 
 is lovely, the sea would be calling me even from it ; and 
 before settling on the situation I decided to try in real 
 earnest to secure, if possible, a cottage in one of the two 
 most charming spots I knew. So I wrote a letter, 
 addressed to the minister of my own denomination, at 
 the little town which I thought I should love the best ; 
 one's own minister I was sure would answer a request 
 for information. The church was at the time with- 
 out a pastor ; the letter, however, was delivered to a 
 deacon. I had said that I wanted a small cottage with 
 a low rent, such as a fisherman or labourer would 
 inhabit, that I did not mind what it was, as I could 
 myself make it pretty and comfortable. To my great 
 joy, the deacon replied that one happened to be vacant, 
 and he sent me a little photo marked with a cross to 
 show its position. He said it belonged to " Mrs. Talbot, 
 the kindest lady in Barmouth," and advised me to write 
 to her agent. I wrote to the agent, and the lady too, 
 and she consented to let me have the cottage if, after 
 I had seen it, I wished for it I was too pressed with 
 work just then to go to see it, but I begged its owner to 
 let me become her tenant at once, and she consented. 
 A few days later some odds and ends of furniture, 
 which had been placed at my disposal at the right 
 minute, arrived, and my sister went up to arrange them 
 in the cottage. She took with her a son who was so ill 
 that several doctors had pronounced him incurable. Only 
 one sensible physician had said that if he lived out-of- 
 doors, and walked over hills and mountains, he might get 
 well. And he did. When I arrived a week or two later, 
 and he met me at the station, I knew that he would live. 
 
 231
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 What my cottage was to him, and has since been to 
 many, I could not tell ; and what it has been to me 
 cannot be put into any words. Here have I come 
 to meet the spring, and here have I seen the summer 
 delayed almost until November. Here on grey wintry 
 days, when my strength was low and faith feeble, have 
 I been able to wait until hope and vigour returned, and 
 here have gracious summer-times almost renewed my 
 youth, and caused my heart to sing for joy. How 
 much I wish everybody could have such a haven as I ! 
 
 My cottage is a little gabled house, situated on a 
 crag at the foot of a mountain, and high up above most 
 of my neighbours' chimneys. The cosy dwelling-place 
 is a very old one probably two hundred years old at 
 least ; and it is built of the grey stone of the neighbour- 
 hood, fastened with cement that never seems to loosen 
 or wear out. Guarding the ample kitchen fireplace, with 
 its snug chimney corners, is a delightful old oak beam 
 that must have seen several centuries. Beams are 
 among the most characteristic features of the cottage, and 
 they are frankly visible in each of the rooms. The 
 walls, too, have an individuality of their own. They are 
 three feet thick, and therefore the house is warm in the 
 winter and cool and comfortable in the summer. It is a 
 five-roomed cottage, two rooms downstairs and three up. 
 The door is in the middle and opens into a passage 
 paved with slate slabs, as are the floors of both down- 
 stairs-rooms ; the staircase is opposite the door. The 
 sitting-room is to the right as one enters. It is a pretty 
 little apartment, with a deep dado of Indian matting, 
 and a frieze of beautiful flowers cut for me by kind 
 
 232
 
 My Cottage at Barmouth 
 
 hands from a book on gardening. Not much furniture 
 is in the room it is not large enough to contain much : 
 a few chairs to sit on, a table on which to write, a sofa 
 for rest, and an old oak corner cupboard. The ceiling, 
 with its beams, is whitewashed, and the door and window 
 seats are dark brown. The kitchen is the same, excepting 
 that the walls are colour-washed. 
 
 The chief glories of the cottage are its casement 
 windows and ample window-seats, which are comfort- 
 able, and from which are obtained magnificent views of 
 sea and land. The windows have been kindly put in 
 for me since I first came, now twenty years ago. The 
 best of a cottage is that, being small, everything is com- 
 pact and handy. To reach the bedrooms one has only 
 nine steps and a landing, although the rooms are not 
 unduly low. The sloping roofs are indeed very high in 
 the highest parts, and even in the lowest I never knock 
 my head, though possibly a person who was exceedingly 
 tall might do so. Broad window-seats are here also, 
 from which grand views of the sea are obtained, although, 
 indeed, it is possible to lie in bed and see them. Gracious 
 dawns and wonderful sunsets are witnessed from my 
 windows, and as I write there is a summer glory on the 
 yellow sands and the blue sea, such as goes directly to 
 one's heart. What makes it such a delightfully all- 
 the-year-round place is that every bit of sunshine there 
 is comes to the cottage, which faces the south and west. 
 In the winter I can see the sun dip into the sea, and in 
 the summer, from morning till night, it stays to bless us. 
 If we pass under the porch on to the little terrace, there 
 are wider views. On the left the Cader Idris range and 
 
 233
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 the Mawddach Estuary, and on the right, plainly visible 
 from my little summer house and garden, are the Car- 
 narvon mountains and Bardsey Island. Not only do we 
 get the sunshine, but we also become acquainted with 
 the winds ! I never knew what wind was like before I 
 had my cottage. Sometimes at night the fact of the 
 great thickness and strength of the walls and chimneys 
 is a thought of much comfort. But it is a grand concert 
 which the sea and the winds conduct together. Fre- 
 quently it is awfully wild and solemn ; but sometimes, 
 as now, the winds are only at play, and the sea is singing 
 a song of the sweetest tune. 
 
 Of course, I know that there is only one such cottage 
 as mine in the whole world ! But there are hundreds of 
 other cottages in pretty inland villages, as well as around 
 the coast, which would make other people as happy as 
 mine does me. I cannot imagine why the plan is not 
 more often tried. There can generally be found some 
 trustworthy working woman who will look after the 
 place and keep it aired. And the pleasure that one gets 
 out of it is worth more than all the cost. It makes one 
 feel quite well off to own a cottage somewhere, as well 
 as one's own residence ! And there is great delight in 
 lending it, not only to one's own circle, but perhaps to 
 those who still more need rest and quiet and fresh air. 
 But it must be a real cottage, and plainly furnished, so 
 as to bring no care, but only joy. As for me, I am 
 scarcely more grateful for anything than for my cottage, 
 Craig-yr-Helbul. 
 
 My cottage has brought me into association with 
 several very gracious spirits, whom it has been good 
 
 234
 
 My Cottage at Barmouth 
 
 indeed to know. The friendship of Mrs. Talbot has 
 greatly enriched my life. She was almost a lifelong 
 friend of Ruskin. When I first took up my abode 
 at Barmouth, the two friends were playing by corre- 
 spondence a game of chess together, and she used 
 sometimes to read me little extracts from his letters, 
 in his own most characteristic style. Mrs. Talbot was 
 the first to respond to Ruskin's invitation to form the 
 Guild of St. George. She had bought something like 
 a dozen old cottages on the rock, and she presented 
 them to the Guild. Mrs. Talbot's beneficence to 
 Barmouth has been greater than any one knows. One 
 of the first things I heard about her was that there 
 was no poor and hungry person in the place, unless by 
 some means the news of him or her had not reached the 
 lady. One of the latest things that she has done for 
 the town is to present to it a mountain, Dinas Oleu (the 
 Fortress of Light). The following is the inscription cut 
 in the rock : 
 
 " The upper part of this cliff Dinas Oleu, enclosed by the 
 walls of the north and the east, and by the roadway from gate 
 to gate, on the south and west, was, in March 1895, given by 
 Mrs. C. T. Talbot of Tyn-y-ffynon to the National Trust for 
 Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty. To be kept 
 and guarded for the enjoyment of the people of Barmouth for 
 ever. The National Trust, i, Great College St., Westminster." 
 
 We have heard of parks being presented to towns, 
 but such a gift as this, which cannot be spoilt by being 
 built upon, and must remain always a height from 
 which to view the sea and the mountains, is almost 
 unique. Mrs. Talbot's house Tyn-y-ffynon (the house 
 
 235
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 by the spring) is filled with beautiful things, especially 
 pictures, chiefly by her son who was a pupil of Mr. Ruskin. 
 Some of Ruskin's own are there, and one at least of 
 Turner's, also Ruskin's table and chair from Oxford. 
 
 Mrs. Talbot's house is a charming one in which to 
 rest. How many times have I gone in after a hard 
 day's work and spent an evening of ideal repose ! She 
 "Is a beautiful reader, and knows almost instinctively 
 what are the best things to read. Delightful spells of 
 intellectual enjoyment we had, often with Ruskin, some- 
 times with Miss Alexander, sometimes with Canon 
 Rawnsley, and occasionally we descended to the news- 
 ^paper. After a time, Miss Blanche Atkinson came to 
 reside with Mrs. Talbot, and the evenings were 
 happier and brighter still. Miss Atkinson, a literary 
 woman, was especially given to Nature-study, and 
 wrote many interesting things on trees and flowers and 
 gardens. I was always the lazy one of the party, of quite 
 deliberate intent. It was not my way to occupy the 
 hours in knitting or netting, while there were the sun- 
 sets to see from the conservatory, or the lights of the 
 candles gleaming on the pictures, bringing before me 
 one of St. Mark's, with all the colours of its glorious 
 marbles, or a picturesque Venetian street. When they 
 laughed at me for being idle I retorted that I had no 
 doubt done as good a day's work as either of them, and 
 was entitled to rest in the evening. But, after all, 
 nothing was so beautiful to me as the dear face of 
 the gracious lady who for twenty years has been my 
 friend and landlady. 
 
 It was Mrs. Talbot who introduced me to Miss Frances 
 236
 
 My Cottage at Barmouth 
 
 Power Cobbe, whose conversation was so charming 
 that one could have listened all day without finding it 
 monotonous. Miss Cobbe had lived her life vividly, and 
 knew everybody, and had especially been in the real 
 intellectual life of .London during those wonderful years, 
 the seventies and eighties. She made history as well as 
 lived it, for her clever pen sent through the daily press 
 articles which roused enthusiasm for the good, and 
 active antagonism to the wrong. She had a marvellous 
 brain that could grasp any subject. Miss Cobbe used to 
 congratulate me because I was still a journalist. She 
 had herself been the special correspondent to The Daily 
 News while living in Italy, and when she went to 
 London she joined the staff of The Echo, supplying 
 three leaders a week. She joined The Echo toward the 
 end of 1868, remaining till the spring of 1875, during 
 which time she wrote more than a thousand leading 
 articles. She had friends everywhere ; Mr. and Mrs. 
 Browning, Mrs. Somerville, Theodore Parker, John 
 Gibson, Charlotte Cushman, Mazzini, Dr. Martineau, 
 Dean Stanley, Cardinal Manning, Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle, 
 and Lord Shaftesbury. Miss Cobbe was always a 
 "Woman's Rights" woman. In conjunction with Mrs. 
 Fawcett and others she worked actively to secure the 
 passing of the Married Women's Property Act and the 
 granting of university degrees to women. The service 
 which gave Miss Cobbe the greatest satisfaction was 
 that which related to the passing of the Act granting to 
 a wife the power to obtain a decree of judicial separation 
 from a husband convicted of an aggravated assault upon 
 her. Miss Cobbe obtained statistics which convinced 
 
 237
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 her that about fifteen hundred cases of aggravated 
 assaults on wives took place every year, and that these 
 women were compelled by law to cohabit with their 
 brutal husbands and work for them. It was a happy day 
 for Miss Cobbe when the Bill, which had been brought 
 in by the House of Lords, passed the Commons. Miss 
 Cobbe never lost touch with women. I heard her in 
 1890 at Birmingham, when in connection with the 
 National Union of Women Workers she read a paper 
 on " Women's Duty to Women." As I looked around 
 on the great company of well-dressed women, chiefly 
 young, I wondered if they knew all that Miss Cobbe 
 had done for our sex. But as soon as she entered the 
 door the whole assembly with one accord rose in 
 respectful greeting of this pioneer woman worker, who 
 had shown so many of them the way. She was much 
 touched by their evident admiration. 
 
 It is well known that she was the originator of 
 the Anti-Vivisection Society. Hers was the honour of 
 making the first direct effort to arouse public thought 
 in regard to the moral questions involved in the torture 
 of animals, and this was done by an article which set 
 many great minds thinking, and whose title was " The 
 Rights of Man and the Claims of Brutes." 
 
 Miss Cobbe's home at Hengwrt was a grand old 
 mansion standing in beautiful grounds, with a singing 
 little stream running through it. It was the property of 
 her lifelong friend, Miss Lloyd, with whom she spent 
 many happy years, and from the sorrow of whose death 
 she never really recovered. She, herself, passed away 
 quite suddenly early one spring morning in 1904. 
 
 238
 
 My Cottage at Barmouth 
 
 She had lived and thoroughly enjoyed her life of eighty- 
 two years. 
 
 Miss Cobbe had an excellent library, which she 
 bequeathed to Barmouth, on condition that the books 
 were suitably housed, and a building of the stone of the 
 neighbourhood had been erected to receive them. Miss 
 Blanche Atkinson was her literary executrix, and she had 
 appointed a small company of directors to take care of 
 the books, of whom I was one. Of course the presence 
 of this library has made Barmouth dearer than ever, and 
 I am glad that it is being appreciated by others. 
 
 More even than these books could be to me is the 
 scenery of this part of Wales. It is not too much to 
 say that on the hills above my cottage my soul is 
 absolutely satisfied with beauty. When I am tired of 
 hot, dusty streets, or chilled by wintry fog, and get too 
 hungry to bear myself, I come up to Barmouth, and in- 
 variably get a full meal. I and my niece have spent 
 several winters here, and made the acquaintance of the 
 birds that in large numbers have found their way to 
 our little terrace, and even into our windows. One 
 stormy year the gulls came too, but the robins are 
 our most faithful friends, and sing to us the most 
 regularly. Some of our winter days are almost like 
 spring. I have more than once written my verses for 
 The Christian World out-of-doors in January. The 
 autumn is very beautiful. These are some notes that 
 I made in October, 1906 : 
 
 "The October tide is coming in, the sea sending little 
 white waves in advance which the sun catches and silvers 
 
 239
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 over, as they run up the rocks and across the sand. I find 
 the wind is in the east, which I could not tell before, for the 
 mountains shelter my cottage. The sun shines on the faces 
 of the grey rocks, and lights the brown bracken and the 
 golden gorse which never fail Barmouth. The heather has 
 not lost all its colour, and I could gather an armful quite near. 
 It makes a lovely glow behind the pines on the distant hills. 
 The ling is white or cream coloured, and there are wonderful 
 effects of lights and shadows on the mountains. In the sweet- 
 scented ivy blossoms clinging to a wall the bees make melody. 
 As I mount the hill everything that is beautiful is spread 
 about me. The sky is most lovely blue, having the pale moon 
 still hanging in front of it. There is a hawk poised in the 
 air over the Garn, and the little birds hastening away and 
 talking to each other about him look down upon me as I sit 
 sheltered by trees, which in the glen look almost as green as 
 ever. But who could describe it all? Certainly not I. And 
 though it is the autumn of the year, and the autumn of my life, 
 there cannot be a happier, or more thankful woman than I 
 am this morning, on God's beautiful earth." 
 
 240
 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE GROWTH OF GREAT CAUSES 
 
 A WATCHER is sure to see many notable things. 
 Some of these would probably have been unheeded 
 by me, but that I was obliged to look out for topics on 
 which to found my copy for the week. The search for 
 subjects naturally helped to develop my powers of 
 observation, and life and the world have been far more 
 interesting in consequence. I am glad to have lived in 
 such years as the last fifty, during which so many good 
 causes have been born, and have grown to maturity. If 
 in any way however small, by pen or speech, I have 
 been permitted to render service to any of these, I am 
 sincerely thankful. 
 
 The times have indeed been marvellously rich in 
 scientific discoveries, but I think they have been scarcely 
 less wonderful in religious and social ideas and develop- 
 ments. One of the most remarkable instances is furnished 
 by the Salvation Army. I can remember its beginnings. 
 A young Methodist minister, who had drawn upon him- 
 self the rebukes of the elders because he would not be 
 kept in the old grooves, was resolved to try new plans 
 for the conversion of the people, and therefore separated 
 himself from the rest of the workers and was talking 
 
 241 Q
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 about drums, and out-of-door addresses, and military 
 uniforms. Some good people spoke hot words of blame, 
 and others smiled indulgently and believed in the new 
 movement not at all. But the young general, seconded 
 by his wife, one of the most saintly and gifted heroines of 
 the century, proceeded to get together a company of 
 devout and energetic men and women, all of them 
 young, and to make of them soldiers of the cross. They 
 were to utilize and sanctify the military spirit. The 
 recruits were to be well disciplined, and the high qualities 
 of obedience, courage, and fortitude were to be developed 
 in them. There was no difficulty in securing volunteers, 
 and the Salvation Army became an accomplished fact, 
 though nobody dreamed, not even the general himself, 
 of the mighty possibilities of social good which were, for 
 the time, dormant. 
 
 The methods of the Salvation Army encountered 
 fierce opposition. Northampton was not worse than 
 other places, but the flaming posters about fire and 
 blood aggravated the people intensely ; and the old 
 general can scarcely have forgotten, even in the wonderful 
 successes of later years, his first visit to the metropolis 
 of boots and shoes. When he alighted at the station he 
 was met, if I remember rightly, by the Vicar of the 
 Parish Church, who had in true Christliness, offered his 
 hospitality, and who was to bring him into the town in 
 a carriage lent for the occasion. He was also met by a 
 menacing excited crowd, who smashed the drums, and 
 tore the banners, and mauled the general himself, try- 
 ing to drag him from the carriage, which was considerably 
 injured in the fray. 
 
 242
 
 The Growth of Great Causes 
 
 But the intrepid general of the new army did not 
 therefore despair of Northampton ; it was not his way. 
 He soon came to the town again, and brought Mrs. 
 Booth with him. People were sorry for what had been 
 done by a few of their neighbours, and the crowds 
 were no longer hostile. Barracks were in time built for 
 the accommodation of the speakers and the multitudes 
 who came to hear them. Mrs. Booth was a little nervous 
 the first time she came. I had the privilege to sit near 
 her on the platform, and to listen to one of her 
 sweetly characteristic addresses. A man at the back of 
 the hall said something discourteous, and there was a 
 slight disturbance which appeared to alarm Mrs. Booth. 
 I was able to assure her that there was no danger of an 
 uproar ; it was only that her admirers were proposing to 
 turn out a man who had ventured to object ; and she 
 went bravely on with her discourse. There has always 
 been a corps of the Salvation Army at Northampton. 
 I have often passed little groups in the streets or 
 squares carrying banners, and raising their voices 
 in song and prayer, and have wished them God- 
 speed as I passed on to my own chapel. A member 
 of my Bible-class became one of the captains, and 
 did excellent work in her native town and other 
 places. The Church Army, in time, adopted similar 
 plans. 
 
 A great cause, which has grown marvellously during 
 the last fifty years is, as all the world knows, that of 
 Temperance, in which naturally I have been interested. 
 
 During the seven years of my lectures the change 
 was especially marked in regard to this matter. 
 
 243
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 Although my hosts seldom took wine, it was, at the 
 beginning of my course, often seen upon the table ; but 
 toward the end of my lectures it was almost never 
 present Happily in these better days young ladies 
 are ceasing to sip champagne at balls and parties, 
 cyclists, footballers, cricketers and tennis-players seldom 
 touch intoxicants, and no man bent on winning a 
 prize would now seek to brace himself with wine. 
 I am glad that Bands of Hope are still a power, 
 and especially glad for the temperance scientific 
 lectures given in schools. Also it is a pleasure to 
 find so many persons engaged in supplying temper- 
 ance drinks for summer and winter, though here there 
 may be still need for further developments. I did not 
 give any lectures directly on the topic, but served the 
 cause perhaps quite as usefully by putting a word on 
 the subject in them all, for I knew that many would 
 not attend to hear a specific temperance lecture, who 
 might be drawn by such a subject as " Help-meets and 
 Hinderers." 
 
 I was, in a sense, at the birth, in this country, of 
 " The Young People's Society of Christian Endeavour," 
 of which I first heard at Crewe. I saw at once some of 
 the possibilities of this remarkable movement. It sup- 
 plied the " missing link " between the school and the 
 church which had been often sought. I was not pre- 
 pared for the immediate and enthusiastic reception 
 accorded it in England, and was only afraid that our 
 insular conservatism might prevent it from being 
 seriously considered. My fears were groundless, for 
 the idea was welcomed on almost every hand. Not 
 
 244
 
 The Growth of Great Causes 
 
 that it was accepted quite without demur. The Pledge 
 was in many quarters^ objected to, especially that part 
 which required members to be present at every meeting 
 and to take some personal part in it. But one minister 
 after another thankfully adopted the Society as the best 
 method that had been conceived of keeping the young 
 people in attachment to the church in whose Sunday 
 schools they had been already taught, so the Christian 
 Endeavour Society spread over England with astonishing 
 rapidity, particularly among the Free Churches. 
 
 The story of its birth was a very fascinating one, and 
 it was repeated so often in journals and magazines that 
 many thousands of minds must have seen it as in a 
 picture: A young minister, tired with his Sunday's 
 preaching, dissatisfied and anxious because so many of 
 the young people who listened to him seemed to get no 
 further ; his wife sympathetic, and full of solicitude ; and 
 a few earnest young people who had come into the 
 pastor's residence for a little talk after the service. 
 Then the illuminating flash, as surely straight from God 
 as any message sent to a prophet of old, and the kneeling 
 little company consecrating themselves to the work of 
 carrying out the new idea. 
 
 In such ways the greatest forces of the world are born ! 
 How great this was those who thus quietly commenced 
 it could not have foreseen. For a little while Dr. and 
 Mrs. Clark tested the plan, but it was not a thing that could 
 be hidden, nor a secret which any wished should be kept. 
 In the Churches of America it was to a very great extent 
 immediately adopted, and when the news of it reached 
 England, no time was lost in putting it into practice. 
 
 245
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 What it has done for our Churches, and for the religious 
 life of our country, it is impossible to say. Of course it 
 has not been equally successful in all cases ; success 
 depends very much upon the leadership of a Church and 
 its pastor. Many thoughtful men and women raised 
 certain objections that it was too emotional, and 
 devoid of teaching, a fault which in later years has been 
 to a great extent remedied ; that it brought young 
 people into prominence at an age when they ought to 
 be unseen and unheard ; that it was likely to encourage 
 a profession that might easily be insincere and exag- 
 gerated ; and that it would take young people too much 
 away from their homes. All these evils might occur 
 unless the societies were wisely managed by competent 
 leaders. In cases where they have been left to the 
 young and inexperienced, or to others with more pre- 
 judice than faith, they have naturally failed ; but in 
 thousands of instances they have strengthened the 
 Church by preparing young people for membership, and 
 many ministers have expressed to me their appreciation 
 of the movement, and their thankfulness for that which 
 it has accomplished. Certainly I have not heard any 
 other plan suggested which appeared more likely to 
 accomplish the objects which the Y. P. S. C. E. has in 
 view. 
 
 I am glad that from the first I believed in it, and 
 tried to help it. I was still lecturing when the new 
 society was started in England, and at once added 
 an appreciative paragraph to my manuscript. As soon 
 as I ascertained facts respecting it, I wrote articles upon 
 it for The Christian World and. The Sunday School Times. 
 
 246
 
 The Growth of Great Causes 
 
 When it had grown into power, and had reached the 
 anniversary stage, I began to receive invitations to speak 
 at the meetings, which, whenever possible, I accepted. 
 I think that no audiences have given me such perfect 
 delight At first there were no junior societies, and 
 therefore the gatherings were chiefly of youths and girls 
 in their teens the very flowers of our country and our 
 Churches. To look upon their bright young faces was 
 an inspiration, to listen to their singing was to make 
 one's heart glad with hope, and even to write in their 
 text-books was a pleasure, though often it left me with 
 an aching hand. The name of the society was happily 
 chosen, and I generally began my addresses with " Young 
 people of the beautiful name." 
 
 When Dr. and Mrs. Clark came to England the first 
 time there was joy in the hearts of multitudes, nor have 
 their subsequent visits been other than times of rejoicing. 
 I was present at their great festival at the Alexandra 
 Palace, though able to do very little except enjoy the 
 sights and hearings, for it was too big a thing for me. 
 Still the memory of the thousands of young people 
 and their reception, when the Rev. Carey Bonner 
 introduced me to them, is one which I shall cherish 
 to the day of my death. 
 
 And that great World's Convention left another 
 reminiscence which gives me much pleasure always. 
 Mr. W. T. Stead invited a large number of friends to 
 spend a day on the Thames. He sent us tickets to 
 Windsor, where luncheon was provided, and carriages 
 to take us to the Castle. He had hired a number of 
 steam-launches, in which we had the happiest experiences 
 
 247
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 of our beautiful river. He arranged that at the locks 
 we should exchange from one boat to another, so that 
 we might have opportunities of making acquaintances 
 with new friends, and delightful talks with old ones. 
 Dr. and Mrs. Clark were there of course, and the author 
 of " In His Steps," and Mrs. Sheldon, and nearly all 
 the leaders of the Christian Endeavour movement. The 
 editor of the Review of Reviews gave us a royal time, 
 and two pictures impressed themselves ineffaceably on 
 my memory the one of a select company perched 
 on tables and chairs, and standing wherever there 
 was a foot of space, all gravely listening while our host 
 talked to us of spooks ; and the other of our landing, 
 when Dr. Clifford having moved a vote of thanks to 
 the generous host, sang " For he's a jolly good fellow." 
 
 The Young People's Societies of Christian Endeavour 
 have, I believe, done much for the civic and religious 
 life of the nation. They have kindled and cherished many 
 loving attentions and ministries to the poor and the sick. 
 There are lonely old widows unable to attend public 
 worship, to whom the visits of Endeavourers on Sunday 
 mornings or evenings are a veritable means of grace. 
 It should never be forgotten that Endeavourers are active 
 temperance workers, and among people of their own age 
 are often valuable recruiting agents. In many churches 
 and chapels they have commandeered a " Christian 
 Endeavour Pew," into which they invite the wayfarers 
 of the streets. But best of all, they are being educated 
 into Christian citizenship ; they will soon possess the 
 franchise, and it is very sure that their votes will be 
 given only to good men and great causes. The Christian 
 
 248
 
 The Growth of Great Causes 
 
 Endeavour Society is worthy of the best support of 
 the best men. Let them not be weary in well-doing. 
 
 Another movement which I have watched with deep 
 interest is that of the " Boys' Brigade." Naturally I had v 
 been grieved by the sight of lads playing at pitch-and- 
 toss on the common, or lounging at the corners of the 
 streets, using language that shocked one's ears, and as 
 rough and rude as they could be. Too old for school, 
 and amenable to no authority, they were a menace and/ 
 a terror. When, therefore, I heard that a gentleman in 
 Glasgow had discovered a method of reducing these lads 
 to order, and making of them respectable and well- 
 behaved citizens, my first thought was that I would go 
 to Glasgow and see this strange sight for myself. But 
 I could not do so at the moment, and soon heard that 
 Mr. Smith, the organizer, had been invited by the Sunday 
 School Union to come to London and tell the story at 
 one of the meetings. 
 
 He was much more enthusiastic than the delegates 
 and the council whom he addressed. He had chosen, 
 as had General Booth, to utilize for purposes of discipline, 
 certain military phrases and distinctions. Military drill 
 was one of his great points. He wanted the lads to 
 develop the soldierly bearing, to be obedient to their 
 captain and officers, to be prompt and regular in their 
 habits. Mr. Smith gave a fascinating description of the 
 change which he had seen come over a company of 
 street arabs of the worst type, and said he had faith in 
 the movement that it would not only make manly and 
 self-respecting men of the lads, but also lead them to 
 personal reverence for Christianity. 
 
 249
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 But the delegates at the Sunday School Union would 
 have none of it. They were afraid that the Boys' Brigade 
 would strengthen the military spirit, and that there would 
 be only a short step from the Brigade to the army. 
 Sunday school teachers, as a body, hate war though 
 some of them forgot themselves years later, when the 
 Boers issued an ultimatum and one after another of 
 the delegates denounced the new movement. 
 
 Mr. Smith listened with what patience he could to 
 his critics, and then he was asked to reply to them. He 
 began by saying, " Gentlemen, I have never listened for 
 an hour to such arrant nonsense in the whole course of 
 my life." It was evident from the reception given to 
 this first sentence that there were present in the Old 
 Bailey Hall some sympathizers with him and the Boys' 
 Brigade, but not many. A large majority was against 
 it, although it was, of course, left for individual super- 
 intendents and ministers to adopt or leave it as they 
 chose. 
 
 The Sunday School Union improved upon the idea, 
 and in time instituted the Boys' Life Saving Brigade, 
 which has been generally accepted by Sunday schools 
 in various localities. The Girls' Life Brigade is capable 
 of development, and useful lessons in swimming and 
 nursing occupy a week-evening in some places. The 
 Church Lads' Brigade is having good success, and 
 doing much to make disorderly boys courteous and 
 brave. When I first heard of the camping-out idea it 
 startled me considerably, but the boys' camps have long 
 ago become popular, and there is no doubt that the 
 association of Christian gentlemen with youths on the 
 
 250
 
 The Growth of Great Causes 
 
 threshold of manhood has had a marked and most 
 beneficial influence upon the latter. 
 
 I felt, as did many others, that it was a national 
 disgrace when Mr. Benjamin Waugh began to declare 
 it necessary to form a Society for the Prevention of 
 Cruelty to Children, and especially when he boldly 
 added that the worst and most cruel offenders were 
 parents. That fathers and mothers should cease to care 
 for their own children and deliberately cause them suffer- 
 ing seemed at first incredible. I knew that there were 
 a few inhuman monsters, but I did not believe they 
 could be many. 
 
 At one of the great religious assemblies, held, I 
 think, at Leicester, Mr. Waugh's name was on the 
 programme. I was not able to be present at the 
 beginning of the meeting, and, finding the chapel 
 crowded, was going up the gallery stairs when I met 
 a friend coming down looking very white and faint. 
 
 " Go back," she said ; " Mr. Waugh is saying such 
 terrible things. It is too dreadful of him to exaggerate 
 as he is doing. The stories cannot be true ; they have 
 made me quite sick. Pray do not go." 
 
 " But I think I ought to hear what he is saying." 
 
 " Do be persuaded," she said. " It will make 
 you ill." 
 
 And it did. 
 
 Nothing has brought me so nearly to despair of my 
 country as the revelations which have been made through 
 this society. The only solace has been that the lavish 
 gifts which have supported it have made it possible so to 
 punish the brutal offenders as to make them afraid to 
 
 251
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 be cruel. But that such a society is still required should 
 make us all ashamed. 
 
 In the Sunday School world I have seen some very 
 happy advances. It can no longer be asserted that 
 present-day Sunday school teachers are an ignorant set 
 of people who teach nothing worth learning, as used 
 frequently to be said thirty years ago. Many have 
 been educated and trained. An enormous quantity of 
 Sunday school literature has been published, of which 
 those who were earnest availed themselves. Sunday 
 school methods have been sharply criticized, and 
 criticism has been a means of grace. Preparation 
 classes have been instituted, and so many periodicals 
 have published lesson helps that only naturally per- 
 verse and incompetent persons could help giving fair 
 lessons to their classes. Perfection is not yet attained, 
 but at last friends at Birmingham have instituted a 
 Sunday School Training College for the all-round train- 
 ing of teachers, at which the study of child life is to 
 take a prominent position, and which is to be a School 
 of Method. 
 
 Great efforts are now being made to induce teachers 
 to be careful not to teach children that which they will 
 have afterward to unlearn, and to be less resentful of 
 Biblical criticism than formerly. Principal Adeney has 
 for years been working in this direction, and showing 
 in his own lessons for The Sunday School Times the 
 kind of teaching which is safe and wise for which 
 thousands of teachers are thankful. As a class they 
 are very conservative, and afraid of that which is new. 
 But some at least are learning not to be panic-stricken 
 
 252
 
 The Growth of Great Causes 
 
 though they should be obliged to readjust some ideas in 
 regard to theology. A gentlewoman who has been 
 many years a teacher of an adult class said, " When 
 some startling theory is uttered in my hearing I stay 
 my soul in tranquillity by remembering our Lord's 
 words, ' I have many things to say to you, but ye 
 cannot bear them now.' May it not be that He is 
 saying some of these many things at this time ? I 
 am sure we need not be afraid of any truth." 
 
 There has lately been a contest over the Interna- 
 tional Lessons which have held their own for many 
 years, in probably ninety out of every hundred of our 
 Sunday schools. Individuals, however, in most schools, 
 and these among the best educated and cultured teachers, 
 have grown impatient of the selection, and Dr. Peake 
 voiced this feeling in articles produced for The Primitive 
 Methodist Leader, and reprinted in book form. The 
 Professor himself came to a meeting of the Sunday 
 School Union, and expressed his views with so much 
 logic and earnestness that he appeared to convince his 
 hearers ; but old loves are strong. Among the American 
 visitors who attended the World's Sunday School Con- 
 ventions in Rome were some of the leading members of 
 the International Committee, and they came to London 
 to meet the British representatives in a Conference 
 which lasted several days. At the close of the Con- 
 ference, at a reception held at the Old Bailey, it was 
 decided by an overwhelming majority of delegates from 
 London and the country that the Sunday School Union 
 should continue the International Lessons. There is, 
 however, to be an attempt at grading ; and it is certain 
 
 253
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 that there will be some needed modifications of the 
 system. 
 
 I am thankful to have watched a wonderful growth 
 of respect for the child. Children are among the chief 
 assets of the nation, and now that they are regarded in 
 . this light a good deal will be done for them. It is time. 
 The death rate among infants of tender years has assumed 
 such alarming proportions that not only philanthropists 
 but statesmen are bestirring themselves. Something is 
 wrong with a people any of whose children are sent 
 breakfastless to school, and England will not much 
 longer bear this disgrace. Parents who are able to 
 keep the little ones in comfort, and do not care to do 
 this will be compelled, and the children of those who 
 are absolutely unable to feed them will be fed by the 
 State. Or the happier way may be taken, and every 
 man willing to work be given work to do at a living wage, 
 and be able to provide necessaries for his own family. 
 New laws may be less lenient to the lazy good-for- 
 nothings who are too frequently in evidence, and more 
 mercifully protective toward the men who endeavour 
 even though they fail Legislators will consider more 
 than ever the rights of the little ones of the country, 
 and pass better laws for the children's sake. And so, 
 in the greatest reform of this land of reforms it may be 
 that once more the little child shall lead. 
 
 254
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 RELINQUISHMENTS 
 
 THE last chapter of every lengthy life has to be a 
 story of givings up, and in this I have to record 
 losses that almost meant poverty to me. 
 
 On Christmas Day, 1891, my sister returned from 
 South Africa. She was ill with heart disease. Some of 
 us went to Plymouth to meet her, and keep her where 
 the climate was a little more warm than the rest of 
 England, and therefore more like that of the Cape. It 
 was, on the whole, a mild winter, and March brought us 
 some days that were like those of May. She ventured 
 to visit her son who lived in Cambridgeshire, but the 
 weather changed almost immediately, and in place of 
 sunny days came frost and snow, and east winds. She 
 had an- attack of bronchitis and was ill for the rest of 
 her life. God was good to us, and we were able to keep 
 her for a year. But in June, 1893, the release for which 
 she longed came. Her sufferings had made us willing 
 to let her go, and when death touched the dear face and 
 brought to it the expression of absolute peace and 
 content, there was a ring of thankfulness in the voice of 
 her eldest daughter, as she said, "Thanks be to God, 
 who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" 
 
 255
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 The loss of the last member of my own family, and 
 the one who had more than any one loved and cared 
 for me was, and is, a sharp pain to bear, but I am 
 thankful that she " rests from her labours and her works 
 follow her." 
 
 My sister left me a priceless legacy in her girls, 
 some of whom have lived with me, and made my home 
 life happy for many years, while others visit me often, 
 and my brother's only daughter, our singer, spends part 
 of each week with me. 
 
 In 1899, Northampton had a severe loss in the death 
 of the Rev. John Turland Brown, who was for fifty years 
 the minister of the College Street Baptist Church, and 
 who lived his long serviceable life of distinguished 
 ability and character among his own people. Born at 
 Bugbrooke, a few miles from the town, he was known 
 throughout the county, and beloved and reverenced not 
 only for his eloquent and powerful discourses, but for 
 his brave and benignant life. His influence was a force 
 for righteousness and his support was given to every 
 good movement. 
 
 " If John Brown takes the chair we are sure of a 
 good meeting," was often heard in the town. He was 
 genial and full of humour as well as of devotion. He 
 was strongly imaginative. He loved the country, and 
 his sermons were often thought out during his long 
 walks through woods and fields, where he could think 
 and pray at his best. Christ was all to him ; not one of 
 His sayings recorded in the Gospels but some time or 
 other formed a text for one of Mr. Brown's sermons. 
 For those whose cry was "We would see Jesus," it 
 
 256
 
 Relinquishments 
 
 was well to attend Mr. Brown's ministry. What his 
 prayers and sermons did for me I could never 
 adequately tell. I am afraid my silent petition before 
 the service had very little variety in it. "Send me a 
 message through Thy servant on which I may write 
 my verses this week." Nearly a third of the subjects 
 on which I wrote verse, whether for The Christian 
 World or The Sunday School Times must have been, 
 through all my best years, given to me as I sat in my 
 pew in the chapel. 
 
 The last time I saw Mr. Brown, his wife had just 
 died, a beautiful lady, a gentlewoman of rare sweetness 
 whom it was a privilege to know and love. Mr. Brown 
 asked me to write an account of her life. I said it must 
 wait a little because I had accepted an invitation from 
 one of my kind friends, and his, to go to Switzerland as 
 her guest. His face brightened. " How good that is," 
 he said. "Give my love to her and her sister. Have 
 a happy time together, and when you return come to 
 me quickly." The day after my return was Sunday, 
 and he died that day. 
 
 Two years later there was another death which left 
 a deep sense of loss, that of Mr. James Greville Clarke, 
 the third editor of The Christian World under whom I 
 had served. His death brought dismay as well as sorrow 
 into the hearts of every one who had been privileged tc 
 work with him. He was so good to us all, and he was 
 so young to die ! When he told me in the office of thai 
 which was coming, all I was able to say was, " It cannot 
 be! It is too bad to be true." He smiled, and said 
 with quiet serenity, " I wanted to tell you myself because 
 
 257 R
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 you are my friend, and such an old friend to us all, that 
 I have probably only six months to live." 
 
 Mr. S. R. Crockett, his intimate friend, wrote of 
 him 
 
 "James Clarke belonged to the Encouragers, who make 
 the wheels of the world go round. I always quitted him in 
 better heart of my own work, which as every writer knows is 
 more than half the battle. Not that he praised it I hardly 
 ever remember that he did that ; but his words, low spoken 
 and few, remained long in the memory. After he had gone 
 there was no record of brilliant sentences and concocted 
 phrases in my mind that was not his way but somehow the 
 world was a better place because I had spent certain hours 
 with a good man." 
 
 This was exactly my case. When a fit of depression 
 seized me, and I began to fear that what I wrote was 
 poor and useless, and I myself too old to keep on, a 
 chat with Mr. James Clarke always heartened me, for 
 he laughed at my fears, and sent me back to my work 
 with hope, and resolve to try again to do what I could. 
 
 I think his best and most brilliant sentences were 
 spoken in his own home. His talks with his mother, 
 when she was old, were as full of wit as of love. He 
 was a man of few words. When he had to take the 
 reins of government we had no talks over things ; but 
 he stepped to my side, as we stood at his father's grave, 
 and took my hand in a clasp which said more than a 
 book of words could have done, and told me all I wanted 
 to know. Gentle, considerate, quietly appreciative, 
 though always a little diffident and reserved, he was a 
 
 258
 
 Relinquishments 
 
 true gentleman whom it was a joy to serve during the 
 time all too short while he was the head of the firm. 
 
 Two brothers were left, Mr. Percy Clarke, the 
 present head of the firm upon whose shoulders the 
 business responsibilities lie ; and Mr. Herbert Clarke, 
 the present editor. 
 
 It seems a strange circumstance that I should have 
 outlived three editors, including Mr. Whittemore, the 
 first ; but it is plain proof that my working day is one of 
 many hours, and that my evening is lengthened. I am 
 very thankful that it is so full of peace ; thankful, too, 
 that I am still able to continue, though with less eager 
 pace, the work that I love. 
 
 It was in the beginning of the year 1901 that I had 
 to do almost the hardest thing possible for me, namely 
 to give up the class which for thirty-four years had been 
 mine, made so through love and service. That this 
 sorrow must come had been borne in upon me for 
 several years. The Northampton winters are rather 
 severe, and, during the last five years, they had been too 
 trying for my strength. There was a mile, too, to walk 
 between my residence and the class-room, and I began 
 to realize, as I never had before, that my way home was 
 all up-hill. I used often to be obliged to use a cab, but 
 I did not like that, and I concluded with great regret 
 that as the winter was the best time for work among 
 the girls, I must resign my post. I was extremely re- 
 luctant to do this, and therefore remained for several 
 years longer, the nominal head of the class, enabled to 
 do so by the valuable help of my friend Miss Ashton, 
 who became my assistant and did much of the work 
 
 259
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 with beautiful devotion to the interests of the girls, who 
 soon learned to love her, and with kind loyalty to the 
 old teacher. But she married, and then I knew there 
 remained to me nothing but entire withdrawal. 
 
 During the last lesson I gave to my girls the grace 
 which had upheld me for all the years did not fail 
 me. I knew it was the last, but they did not, and I had 
 not the strength and courage to tell them, being afraid 
 that the trouble would be nearly as great to them as to 
 me, and quite too much to bear. Therefore at the close, 
 I stood at the top of the stairs, and, as usual, shook 
 hands with them each, as they passed from the room. 
 
 The next day I hurried away to my little haven at 
 Barmouth, and, from there, I wrote my farewell to the 
 girls, and sent my resignation of the class to the Church. 
 Among my treasures is the resolution passed by the 
 College Street Church at its annual meeting. Perhaps 
 I may be forgiven for inserting it here. 
 
 "8th February, 1901. 
 " DEAR Miss HEARN, 
 
 " At the Annual Meeting of the Church and Con- 
 gregation, which was held last night and was well attended, 
 I read your letter, and I need scarcely say that our friends 
 received with very deep regret the announcement of your 
 retirement from the Class. The following Resolution was 
 passed unamimously : 
 
 " ' That, having heard Miss Hearn's letter read, we desire 
 to record our heartfelt appreciation of the services she has 
 rendered to the Church, and our deep regret that she has 
 found it necessary to give up the Class with which she 
 has been connected for nearly 34 years. 
 
 260
 
 
 
 
 Relinquishments 
 
 " ' For the helpful and gracious influence brought to bear 
 on many lives during this long period j for the courtesy and 
 kindness which have always marked her life amongst us ; for 
 her helpfulness in many ways, and rare qualities of mind and 
 heart all consecrated to the service of our Lord we feel 
 that we cannot be sufficiently grateful; and now on her 
 retirement from active service in connection with the Class 
 it is our earnest prayer that the richest blessings which our 
 Father can bestow may be hers, and that her life may be long 
 spared and strength given her to continue the literary work 
 for which she is so widely known and esteemed.' 
 
 "Words sometimes seem very inadequate to convey our 
 full meaning, but I trust you will accept this as expressing in 
 some degree our high appreciation of your earnest faithful 
 work for so many years, and our sincere wish that all comfort 
 and peace, and every Divine blessing, may be yours in the 
 years to come. 
 
 "With every assurance of our love and gratitude as a 
 Church, and hoping soon to have you with us again, 
 " I am, dear Miss Hearn, 
 
 " Ever yours faithfully, 
 
 " RICHD. TIMMS, 
 
 " Church Secretary? 
 
 Letters came also from many of my girls so warm 
 with love and gratitude that I could do nothing but 
 thank God, and weep over them. Although my hold had 
 been loosening for some time, the wrench was terrible. 
 And yet, as the months passed, the bitterness of the 
 parting passed with them, and left me with very blessed 
 memories. Unspeakable honour had been put upon 
 me, of which I was never worthy, and a responsibility 
 which I could not have borne but for the constant 
 
 261
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 inspiration and presence of Him who, I must believe, 
 called me to this most delightful work. He dealt with 
 me munificently all the time. I was encircled with love, 
 and borne as on wings by the prayers of my girls. In 
 my works, journeyings and undertakings, and especially 
 in times of danger or difficulty, I have felt as if they 
 were guarding me by their prayers. And in teaching 
 others, as is the case with all teachers, I was myself 
 taught, and knew more than I ever could have learnt 
 otherwise of the verities of Christianity, and the sustain- 
 ing power of the ever-living Saviour. 
 
 At the annual May meeting of the Sunday School 
 Union of the same year, 1901, an event occurred which 
 proved to me that although I had been obliged to give 
 up my class I was still in touch with Sunday school 
 teachers. The secretary, on behalf of the Council, 
 informed me that the Union had resolved to present 
 testimonials to teachers who had made a record of pro- 
 longed service in the Sunday school, and asked me if 
 I would be the first to receive one in Exeter Hall that 
 evening. I had one of the supreme moments of my life 
 on this occasion. Mr. George Cadbury was president of 
 the Union that year, and Mrs. Cadbury presented the 
 testimonials. Of course Exeter Hall was packed, it 
 always was at Sunday school meetings, and when my 
 name was called and I stood up to receive the testimonial 
 the whole assembly arose and gave me great congratula- 
 tions. Naturally I was much touched by this warm 
 appreciation of my fellow-workers in the Sunday school 
 cause, and of the readers of The Sunday School Times ; 
 but think I felt most deeply the sight of the long row 
 
 262
 
 Relinquishments 
 
 of press-men, and women, just under the platform, whose 
 greeting of an old comrade was unexpectedly warm and 
 kind. 
 
 During the last ten years I have been saying No to 
 invitations to speak at public meetings, and it has been 
 in many cases a very difficult little word to write or 
 utter, because my sympathies with the great movements 
 of the day, and especially those that touch the young, 
 are as keen as ever. Moreover, there is no sight quite 
 so beautiful as that of hundreds of bright young faces 
 looking with welcome and eagerness into the face of a 
 speaker for whom they have an affectionate regard. 
 However, it has had to be foregone by many, and at 
 last by me. 
 
 But before I quite sank into silence another oppor- 
 tunity was given to me, which, because my health had 
 been bettered by Barmouth and some rest, I could not 
 resist. The Free Churches, knowing the good results 
 which had accrued from the " Girls' Friendly Society," 
 awoke to the fact that there were hosts of girls in their 
 Churches and Sunday Schools who needed to be similarly 
 looked after and cared for with affection. Having had 
 a large experience with girls, and, I think, a good under- 
 standing of them, it seemed to me that I ought at this 
 juncture to make an effort on behalf of the " Girls' Guild 
 of Free Churches," and therefore helped in the establish- 
 ment of a number of guilds. It made me feel almost 
 young again to be once more talking to and about girls. 
 The idea of the Free Church Council is to get the 
 young people of different denominations to meet together 
 for sisterly and helpful intercourse, to induce girls who 
 
 263
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 are not obliged to earn their own living to associate with 
 and care for working girls who often need friends to 
 look after their best interests. Also it is most desirable 
 considering the habits of the present day, that when 
 girls move from one town to another there should be 
 some means of introducing them to Christian friends 
 who would act as neighbours to them. But, indeed, the 
 Guild helps girls in every way, very effectually, and com- 
 mends itself to many friends. Mr. George Cadbury, 
 Mrs. Percy Bunting, Dr. Munro Gibson, and the Rev. 
 Thomas Law, took up the matter very earnestly, and 
 Mrs. Benham became the efficient and devoted secre- 
 tary. I am very glad to have been able to serve in any 
 measure so excellent and needed an institution. But 
 though I am still a member of the committee, my work- 
 ing time for the guilds themselves was a very short one. 
 A cold winter convinced me that my platform work was 
 practically finished. Since then, with a few short 
 remarks at Sunday School Union meetings and gather- 
 ings near home, I have been a happily contented silent 
 woman. 
 
 264
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 AFTERMATH 
 
 THE jubilee of The Christian World has come and 
 passed, and with it the completion of fifty years 
 of my own work upon the journal. It was a very quiet 
 anniversary. Some of us who were most interested in 
 it said far less than we thought. A jubilee makes one 
 nervous ; we are apt to look back through the long, long 
 way we have come with misgivings as to the spirit which 
 has ruled us, and the conduct we have shown. A jubilee 
 makes one sad, too. For a little while we seem to stand 
 in a desert place alone, for so many fell at our side as 
 we paced the distances. But a jubilee also makes one 
 very glad and thankful. My first thought on the morning 
 of the day was one of wonder. How strange it was that 
 I had been preserved to remain at my post so long ! 
 And to think that I had been writing miscellaneous 
 things for fifty years ! Where had they all come from ? 
 
 The memory of it made me feel rather tired : but 
 I suppose one has the right to be tired after fifty years 
 of constant work. 
 
 I found some old words and read them 
 
 " A jubilee shall that fiftieth year be unto you : ye shall not 
 sow, neither reap that which groweth of itself in it, nor gather 
 
 265
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 the grapes in it of thy vine undressed. For it is the jubilee ; it 
 shall be holy unto you : ye shall eat the increase thereof out of 
 the field. In the year of this jubilee ye shall return every man 
 unto his possession." 
 
 The idea of the jubilee, then, was rest and return. 
 I was very willing and glad to have it so. 
 
 After all, how poor my best had been ! How much 
 there was to make me ashamed, how little to make me 
 satisfied. My song was scarcely so much a doxology 
 as a cry for mercy. Friends told me that I was " the 
 heroine of the occasion." I did not feel like one ; but 
 rather like a tired old woman who had lived her life, 
 and for whom there could be but little left. 
 
 But I thank God for the buoyancy of spirit which 
 has all my life been a blessing to me, and which reasserted 
 itself on my jubilee. If sorrow had endured for a night 
 joy came in the morning.. "You ought never to be 
 depressed," a friend had said a few days before, and his 
 words came to me like a rebuke on the jubilee morning. 
 And how rich I was made with flowers and poems, 
 telegrams, letters, and gifts ! Congratulations and kind 
 wishes were showered upon me, and my little room 
 was a bower of sweet blossoms that were all messages 
 of affection. The evening was spent with my own dear 
 people of College Street church, a happy ending to the 
 Jubilee day. 
 
 For many years, few weeks have passed without 
 bringing me letters of appreciation and thanks from 
 strangers. Not half the kind words which these letters 
 contained have I deserved, but they have been very 
 sweet to me all the same, and I have thanked God for 
 
 266
 
 Aftermath 
 
 them. My trouble was that I could not reply to them, 
 as I would gladly have done. 
 
 So often it has seemed that God gave me a message 
 of comfort to pass on to others. " If your verses had been 
 written specially for me they could not have been more 
 suitable to my state and circumstances at the time," 
 are words that frequently reach me. Not unfrequently 
 subjects are suggested by others. "Ask Miss Far- 
 ningham to write on the Comfort of Turned Pillows," 
 said a dying friend to her nurse. I acted on the mourn- 
 fully significant hint, and have been thanked by many 
 other sufferers. 
 
 My jubilee was taken as a suitable opportunity for 
 sending me kind words : the letters which came that 
 week fill a big box. I am tempted to quote from a few 
 of them. I do not think the writers will object if I do 
 not add their names. 
 
 " I more particularly want to thank you for your book 
 1 Girlhood,' and to tell you of the benefit I received from its 
 teaching. My aunts gave it me when I was sixteen, and it 
 was my monitor in many ways. I had a dear good mother 
 and saintly grandmother to guide and teach me, but your book 
 strengthened my principles and helped me to view life and its 
 responsibilities in a different light ; in fact I cannot express all 
 it did for me." 
 
 " I have been reading The Christian World to-day, and, 
 having grown grey and bald, may be excused for having 
 indulged in reminiscences of my reading of the first number 
 which fell into my hands. All I remember is that it contained 
 some of your verses. I read them about twice, saw the paper 
 no more, and just now I turned aside to set down how much 
 
 267
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 of them I could recall. I have never seen or heard them since, 
 please remember." 
 
 The writer of this letter sent me a copy of my own 
 lines, which I had quite forgotten complete and perfect 
 except for a few words. He must indeed possess a 
 marvellous memory. 
 
 " You cannot guess what it has meant to me as a railway 
 man to come home completely worn out and exhausted, to hear 
 my wife read me some article of yours in The Sunday School 
 Times or The Christian World describing graphically some 
 scene or place which we know, oh so well ! At such times 
 the tired mind and body seem transported to the actual places 
 and to be really looking upon them, at any rate with the eye 
 of the mind. Such helps cannot be reckoned by any of our 
 usual modes of estimating men and things, and so I must ask 
 you to accept my poor acknowledgments and take them in the 
 spirit in which they are offered." ... "I would like to send 
 you a root of Delphinium which, being a hardy perennial, would 
 I believe succeed well in your garden." 
 
 " The writer wishes to tender sincere congratulations to 
 Miss Farningham and to thank her for the comfort, good 
 cheer and inspiration which her bright songs and cheery words 
 have always been to him in his lonely and depressing work as 
 a Missionary (P. E.) in the Rockies. He thanks her very 
 much, and wishes her very many happy years of usefulness ere 
 she goes to her real reward." 
 
 I have not had much time during my busy years 
 to look back, my views have generally been forward 
 ones; now I have leisure to count my mercies. I 
 am thankful for the stock from which I came, and am 
 as proud of my ancestors as if they had been dukes. 
 
 268
 
 Aftermath 
 
 They were poor, but never sordid or mean. They were 
 naturally gentlemen and gentlewomen, generous and 
 large-hearted, given to hospitality, of innate refinement, 
 and quite average intellectual ability. With no money 
 to help them, they compelled respect by their high 
 qualities of heart and mind. My Puritan grandmother 
 represented the noblest characteristics of the English 
 nation ; and I feel it a great privilege that so grand a 
 heritage was bequeathed to me, with a record of poverty, 
 but of nothing ignoble. 
 
 It is easy to account for the fact that my writings 
 have appealed most of all to the working classes, and 
 it is their appreciation which has touched me the most 
 deeply. Not very long ago a man stopped me in the 
 street of a town which I was visiting, he having 
 recognized me after hearing me give a Sunday school 
 address several years previously, and he said, " I want 
 to tell you that you have made drudgery easier and 
 nobler for many of us working men." I felt as if 
 a crown which I had never won had been placed upon 
 my head, and could only say when I was able to speak 
 at all, "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto 
 Thy name be the glory, for Thy mercy and for Thy 
 truth's sake." 
 
 So I am enjoying my aftermath, and can sympathize 
 with all ministers, writers, and teachers, who also receive 
 the same joy of recognition. For myself I do not 
 think I can better express my feelings than in the 
 lines which I wrote for the Jubilee number of The 
 Christian World. 
 
 269
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 "FIFTY YEARS. 
 
 " WHERE are they those far years, that came 
 
 As if they meant to last for ever, 
 When each was welcomed with acclaim, 
 And every day with glad endeavour ? 
 Alas ! that none had power to hold 
 Those years of gold ! 
 
 "They were like April's changeful day, 
 
 They flashed, and darkened, and departed, 
 But blessed me ere they passed away, 
 
 And left the worker stronger-hearted. 
 They lighted hopes, and banished fears, 
 Those fifty years. 
 
 " I glance behind me, and can see 
 
 How they flowed onward as life's river, 
 Their springs and summers came to me 
 As love-gifts from an unseen Giver ; 
 Nor need I look through mists of tears 
 Over those years. 
 
 " With primrose stars, and violet scent 
 
 They made each spring a little dearer, 
 Love brightened every year I spent, 
 
 While home and rest were drawing nearer ; 
 Yet was my work the gladdest thing 
 The years could bring. 
 
 " What shall I render to my God 
 
 For fifty years of loving-kindness ? 
 He chose for me the path I trod, 
 
 And He forgave my doubt and blindness ; 
 His peace will cheer the coming nights 
 With clear soft lights. 
 
 " I beckon you, the young, the strong, 
 
 'Tis good to hear your cheery laughter ; 
 Come onward still, with joy and song, 
 
 Nor dread whate'er shall follow after. 
 Face life with trust, and not with fears, 
 God rules the years." 
 
 270
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 EVENTIDE 
 
 WE have all noticed how surely until life reaches its 
 zenith the years bring us many kinds of enrich- 
 ment, and how certainly after that time the years take 
 our treasures, one by one, back again, kindly, gradually, it 
 may be, but irrecoverably. First comes youth with its 
 joys and loves, increasing every year. Then the glad 
 awakening to all the promises and prophecies of life, 
 and the ambition to realize them. Next, work to fill 
 the days with activities and the nights with sleep. 
 Afterwards, the developments of mind and imagination, 
 the intellectual growth of all our powers, to which every 
 year adds something good ; the increasing love of 
 home and friends who grow more numerous and more 
 appreciative ; a keen delight in music and oratory, in 
 literature and books ; while all the time we have stronger 
 hopes, deeper gladness, the joy of success, the sweetness 
 of praise, the happy consciousness that we have a place 
 and position in the world, and to some extent the ability 
 to fill it. These are the years when we sing from full 
 hearts our psalms of thanksgiving to God, and rejoice in 
 His goodness. These are the years, too, of wonder and 
 
 271
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 of humiliation, because we make so poor a return to 
 Him. Probably to most of us these years of our fullest 
 life are those of the keenest sense of our personal in- 
 significance and insufficiency; and it is well that they 
 should be so. 
 
 Soon after the heights are reached we realize, as 
 never before, how swiftly we are travelling, although at 
 first we are loth to believe that our road now lies down- 
 hill. Yet it is true. Possibly we are no longer being 
 enriched by new gifts, but impoverished by the mysterious 
 hand which reclaims the gifts once confided to our care. 
 Something occurs to startle us with the conviction that 
 we have lost our youth, and something too of its hopes 
 and joys. The promises and prophecies of our life have 
 not all been realized, and we have become less romantic 
 in our ideals. Love is still beautiful, but now it wears a 
 tender rather than a rosy glow. We find that there are 
 better things in life than ambitions, and we care less for 
 our successes since so many of those who rejoiced in 
 them have passed away. 
 
 Yet let none think that it is sad to grow old. It is 
 not the spring time now ; we do not go forth to dig, to 
 prune, and sow ; but these are the days when our great 
 Task-Master is giving a gracious ingathering ; and 
 though our harvest is poorer than we hoped, yet it is 
 very good to have our golden sheaves, however small 
 and few they be, that we may lay them at His feet. 
 For it has all been His doing. His was the ground 
 which we tried to dig, His the seed which He gave us 
 for the sowing, His the plants which He taught us to 
 prune, His the rain which watered and washed our little 
 
 272
 
 Eventide 
 
 plot, His the sun which encouraged growth, His the cold 
 wind which made the plants strong ; and if we have any 
 share in the harvest we can only say, " Behold, of Thine 
 own have we given Thee." 
 
 We are not to be afraid of the havoc of the years. 
 Not only are there compensations, such as more tender 
 and protecting love, more time for rest, more leisure for 
 contemplation, more serenity, and silence. The friends 
 who are left become more generous to us, as if they 
 would fain make up for the loss of those whose faces we 
 see no more. Best of all, God seems more real to us, 
 and more closely to companion us than amid the noise 
 and activities of younger, stronger times. In this last 
 chapter of my autobiography I am not afraid to say 
 with Browning : 
 
 " Grow old along with me, 
 The best is yet to be." 
 
 However late in life it may be, and though the conditions 
 are changed, we may still remain happy if we are per- 
 mitted to continue our work. A pad, and a pen, and 
 a shady nook used to be all I required for a good and 
 happy day, but they are not all I want now. A firm 
 table, a fountain-pen, a good fire and an easy-chair are 
 more to be desired than couches of moss in the shadiest 
 nook. Comfort is more than pleasure when we are old. 
 We are not able to work continuously when brain and 
 hand are tired ; and yet, after fifty years of work, I love 
 it almost as much as ever, and do the little that I can do 
 with great gladness of heart. 
 
 I am sometimes asked the question, " Is journalism 
 
 273 S
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 worth while? Does it pay?" That depends on the 
 journalist. If he or she wishes chiefly to make money 
 and become rich by it, I answer emphatically, "No." 
 There is much fallacy in those interesting stories, which 
 tell how in a time of trouble or debt, when the husband 
 is in despair, the wife suddenly hears the postsman's 
 knock, and receives a letter containing a cheque for a 
 poem or article or tale, which pays up everything, so 
 that the unsuspected writer and the relieved husband 
 may live happily ever after. I do not say that such 
 things never occur, but it would not be safe to place 
 much hope on a cheque large enough to discharge a big 
 debt, if it were drawn by an average editor or proprietor 
 of magazine or journal. If the worried one could make 
 " a dream of a hat," or compose an advertisement calcu- 
 lated to arrest the eye or secure attention, it would be a 
 much more probable source of income. " I am certain 
 that I can earn four hundred a year by my pen," said a 
 friend, and a very clever writer ; but alas, her hopes were 
 never realized. 
 
 All the same my advice to young enthusiasts who 
 love their fellow-creatures, and want to say things to 
 them, is Do not be discouraged, but write that which is 
 in your hearts. Whatever the amount of the cheques 
 you receive you will be well paid by the joy of expres- 
 sion, by your own deepened interest in the subjects on 
 which you write, and by the unsolicited friendships 
 which are secured to you by your labour. Journalism 
 is in itself so delightful an occupation, that, without 
 reference to money, I think, if your work be accepted, 
 you will say with me 
 
 274
 
 Eventide 
 
 " I would not change my blest estate, 
 For all that earth calls good or great." 
 
 Of course we all know that a few persons of dis- 
 tinguished genius have become very wealthy through 
 their books ; and that to-day an enormous number are 
 making a comfortable and sufficient livelihood. And 
 even if they add nothing to the death duties, which 
 are so welcome to a Chancellor of the Exchequer, they 
 will have been paid excellent wages for their work; 
 Money is not everything to everybody ; it cannot, must ' 
 not, ought not, to be the greatest thing to a writer. As 
 a rule, it is as likely as not that a pen-woman does not 
 regard the question of cash quite as seriously as is 
 desirable. A gentleman who once offered me his hand 
 and heart made this suggestion as a reason why I should 
 accept him : " You really need a man to make good 
 terms for you, and to take care of the money when you 
 have earned it." I could enjoy most of the good things 
 which the rich enjoy, but I would rather have lived the 
 simple life in some small cottage during all my years 
 than have forfeited for them the beautiful things in 
 which I have been paid and over-paid all my life. 
 Always I have known that it was not in me to do any 
 great thing which would impress the world, and cause 
 me to be kept in remembrance, but have hoped that I 
 should be able to do a great many little things which 
 might tell on individuals. My desire has been to " serve 
 my generation, and fall asleep? To meet the needs of/ 
 the future there will always be sufficient journals, and 
 writers for them. 
 
 Perhaps I may here give a list of my books that 
 275
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 have been published and the dates as far I know 
 them 
 
 Lays and Lyrics of the Blessed Life . . 1860 
 Life Sketches and Echoes from the Valley (three 
 
 series) ...... 1861 
 
 Morning and Evening Hymns for a Week . 1863 
 Gilbert, and other Poems . . . .1866 
 
 Listening for the Bells . . . .1867 
 
 Chats by the Sea 1868 
 
 Girlhood ...... 1869 
 
 Home Life ...... 1869 
 
 Little Tales for Little Readers . . . 1869 
 Under the Shadow . . . . .1870 
 
 Boyhood 1870 
 
 The Cathedral's Shadow . . . .1871 
 Sunday Schools of the Future . . . 1871 
 
 Out of the Depths 1872 
 
 Brothers and Sisters . . . . .1873 
 Leaves from Elim (verse) . . . .1873 
 Dell's New Year ..... 1874 
 Sunday Afternoons with Jesus . . . 1874 
 The Summer and Autumn of Life . . 1876 
 What of the Night ? (a Temperance Tale) . 1876 
 Will you Take It? ... . 1877 
 
 The Clarence Family . . . .1878 
 Songs of Sunshine (verse) . . . .1878 
 The Children's Holidays . . . .1879 
 The Story of the Years (a Text Book selected 
 
 by my Father) 1880 
 
 Homely Talks about Homely Things . . 1886 
 Souvenir of the Queen's Jubilee (verse) . 1887 
 
 Nineteen Hundred ? 1892 
 
 A Story of Fifty Years .... 1893 
 276
 
 Eventide 
 
 In Evening Lights 1897 
 
 A Window in Paris ..... 1898 
 Harvest Gleanings (verse) .... 1903 
 Women and their Saviour .... 1904 
 Women and their Work . . . .1906 
 
 Almost all these first appeared as serials in one or 
 other of the publications of Messrs. James Clarke & Co. 
 before they were issued by them in book form. I think 
 it necessary to refer to this, because people have imagined 
 that they must have brought me in much money ; but, 
 as they had been already paid for, the financial results 
 were small. 
 
 For most of the fifty years I have written entirely for 
 Messrs. James Clarke & Co. Many of my friends regret 
 this, especially the older ones, who think it a pity that I 
 have not occasionally contributed to other journals and 
 magazines, and by this means been brought into touch 
 with other readers of perhaps another class. I have 
 been frequently invited to do so, but always the request 
 has been for " Marianne Farningham's " name to appear, 
 and conscientious motives of common honesty have 
 prevented this. 
 
 Besides, I have never lost faith in the kindness and 
 fairness of those whom I may call my life-long em- 
 ployers. They have done everything I asked them, 
 and done it with the utmost cordiality. There has 
 been absolute harmony between us always. For the 
 whole of fifty years we have not had an unpleasant 
 word. Then, too, who could help being satisfied with 
 a constituency as large as mine ? Once I was talking 
 to Mr. James Greville Clarke of the enormous numbers 
 
 277
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 of copies of a certain novel. "To be read by so many 
 is enough to make one envious." " Not you ! " he said, 
 and he told me the circulation of The Christian World 
 that year. 
 
 I am sorry that I have never been of the least use in 
 politics. Of course I am a Liberal, but I cannot feel 
 great enthusiasm for a Political Party. I can always 
 see something good on the other side, and I think the 
 two parties should more often agree to work together 
 for the common good. I said this to a friend, who has 
 votes, and he replied, shaking his head, " You are not 
 worth taking any trouble about whatever." And perhaps 
 he was right. 
 
 And now it is time that I brought this story of my 
 life to a close. It goes without saying that I have not 
 told everything. I have had sorrows, some even verging 
 upon tragedies, especially in my early days, which I 
 could not now describe, and which would do no good 
 if I could. But I have also experienced remarkable 
 interventions of Providence which have changed dangers 
 into blessings. Trials and difficulties have sometimes 
 been my lot, but far oftener have peace and plenteous 
 good been sent to me. My life has been a singularly 
 happy one. God has given me, to make it so in large 
 measure, health, work, and friends. I believe that I am 
 alive to-day because those who love me, especially my 
 own dear people, have taken such loving care of me. 
 I have been spared and considered in every possible 
 way, and no burden which others could lift has pressed 
 upon me too heavily. I can never say how thankful I 
 am to-day that my religion has been one of joy and 
 
 278
 
 Eventide 
 
 trust. It has not been easy to me to doubt, and I have 
 had no hesitation as to prayer. As a child I was taught 
 that " Prayer is asking God for what we want," so I 
 have prayed about everything, and though I have to 
 thank Him for many ungranted petitions which were 
 asked in great ignorance, yet to me there has been 
 much comfort in sending even a little thought about a 
 little thing to my Father. 
 
 I have been asked more than once a testing question 
 by some wistful young beginner. " Miss Hearn, is it 
 really real, all this that you and our minister tell us 
 about the love of God, and the power of the Saviour ? " 
 To this I answer, Yes, absolutely. The power of Christ, 
 and all that is claimed for it is the realest thing in life, 
 the realest thing in the world. Supposing you give 
 yourself to Christ when you are young. There are 
 many things in you which conscience tells you are 
 wrong, and which yet seem part of your nature, and 
 extremely difficult to grow out of. By-and-by, how- 
 ever, you will realize that these are sins, and will learn 
 to hate them, and to say with St. Paul, " The life that I 
 now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of 
 God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me," and you 
 will care less and less for that which is wrong. When I 
 was young, some one gave me a card to hang up in my 
 bedroom headed, " What Jesus is able to do." Will you 
 not take your New Testament, and make such a card 
 for yourself? You will not be long in discovering 
 that Christ who is able to save you is also able to keep 
 you. His help is real, whatever your need may be ; and 
 prayer, which is communion with the Highest, does 
 
 279
 
 A Working Woman's Life 
 
 bring the guidance we seek. Always we must watch as 
 well as pray, but always our Saviour, Protector, and 
 Guide, is nearer than our nearest friend, and even more 
 accessible. 
 
 So you see there is nothing to be afraid of. Go on 
 living your life and doing your work as a little child 
 under direction. You are called to a very high type of 
 Christianity. " I say unto you that except your right- 
 eousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes 
 and Pharisees ye shall in no case enter into the Kingdom 
 of Heaven." This is the Master's standard : let it be 
 ours. Remember that Christ's child is not to be mean 
 and little, a backbiter, a lover of scandal, and untrust- 
 worthy. It is to us He gives the GoMen Rule, and He 
 can give the power to obey it. 
 
 It has been given me to prove that the consolations 
 of the Christian life are also absolutely sure. Let us 
 not suppose that when trouble and sickness overtake us 
 God has sent them for punishment. I think that He 
 is sorry for us. He will take us into His arms and 
 comfort us, and will presently show us that the discipline 
 of sorrow is the growth of the soul. 
 
 I find I am concluding with a homily, which I 
 fear is quite characteristic ; but then in one's auto- 
 biography one is allowed to tell one's own experiences. 
 
 In the old days when the weekly meetings of my 
 Bible-class were held in my sister's house or my own, 
 it was our custom, as the daylight slowly faded, to 
 finish them in the twilight, or sometimes the firelight. 
 If I wanted the girls to talk about the difficulties or 
 the joys of young Christians, or of events in their own 
 
 280
 
 Eventide 
 
 lives, they would be less timid without than with the 
 light. And so some of our happiest and most sacred 
 times have been when the room was full of faces of girls 
 in shadow, and the Spirit of Peace seemed to brood 
 over us. When the time came for the last hymn to be 
 sung, and it was too dark to see, we had a favourite 
 which we sang so often that we knew every word by 
 heart. It was Anna Warings' " Hymn after a Day of 
 Difficulty." I feel it to be a good evening hymn for me 
 to sing in the twilight of my life. 
 
 " Lord, a happy child of Thine, 
 
 Patient through the love of Thee, 
 In the life, the light divine, 
 Laves, and walks, at liberty. 
 
 " Leaning on Thy tender care, 
 
 Thou hast led my steps aright ; 
 Fervent was my morning prayer, 
 Joyful is my song to-night. 
 
 " O my Shepherd, Guardian true, 
 
 All my life is Thine to keep, 
 At Thy feet my work I do, 
 In Thine arms I fall asleep." 
 
 BRADBURY, AGMEW, & CO. LD., PRINTER*, LOKDOK AND TONBRIDOE.
 
 BY MARIANNE FARNINQHAM 
 
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 Index of Titles 
 
 PAOK 
 
 Abbey Mill, The . . . 17 
 America in the East . . 4 
 Ancient Musical Instruments . 20 
 Animal Gambols . . .23 
 Animal Playtime . . .23 
 Animals in Fun-Land . . 23 
 Anne Killigrew ... 3 
 Apocalyptical Writers, The 
 
 Messages of the . .11 
 Apostles, The Messages of the 11 
 Aspects of the Spiritual . . 7 
 Asquith, The Bight Hon. H. H., 
 
 M.P 7 
 
 At the Gates of the Dawn . 22 
 Atonement and Progress . 16 
 Atonement in Modern Thought, 
 
 The . . . . 8 
 Auguatinian Revolution in 
 
 Theology . . .12 
 Aunt Agatha Ann . . 26 
 Authority & the Light Within 16 
 Awe of the New Century, The 25 
 Baptist Handbook, The .16 
 Barrow, Henry, Separatist . 3 
 Beads of Tasmer, The . 11, 18 
 Beatitudes and the Contrasts, 
 
 The . . .12 
 
 Between Two Loves . 11, 27 
 Bible Definition of Religion, 
 
 The . . .25 
 
 Birthday of Hope, The . . 26 
 Bishop and the Caterpillar, The 26 
 Black Familiars, The . 4, 17 
 Border Shepherdess, A . .11 
 Bow of Orange Ribbon, The 18, 27 
 Britain's Hope . . .20 
 Brudenells of Brude, The . 17 
 Burning Questions - . 20 
 Canonbury Holt . . .17 
 Cartoons of St. Mark . . 5 
 Challenge, The . . .14 
 Character through Inspiration 21 
 Chat* with Women on Every- 
 day Subjects . . .19 
 Children's Pace, The . .21 
 Children's Paul, The . .16 
 Christ in Everyday Life . 13 
 
 Christ of the Children, The . 17 
 Christ or Chaos ? . . .6 
 Christ that is To Be, The . 10 
 Christ, the Church and the 
 
 Child, The . . .12 
 Christ, The Private Relation- 
 ships of ... 5 
 Christ Within, The . . 21 
 Christ's Pathway to the Cross 18 
 
 Christian Certitude . . 7 
 Christian Life, The . 21, 28 
 Christian Life and Belief . 12 
 Christian of To-day, The . 7 
 Christian World Pulpit, The . 5 
 Christianity in Common Speech 25 
 Chrystabel . . . 10, 17 
 Church and Modern Life, The 8 
 Church and the Kingdom, The 21 
 Church and the Next Genera- 
 tion, The . . .16 
 Church Questions of Our Time 1 1 
 Cinderella . . . 3, 17 
 City of Delight, The . . 4 
 Comforts of God, The . . 22 
 Common Life, The . . 9 
 Common-sense Christianity . 18 
 Conquered World, The . 21, 26 
 Conquering Prayer . .13 
 Courage of the Coward, The . 9 
 Crucible of Experience, The . 18 
 Daughter of Fife, A . 18, 27 
 Days of Old . . . .6 
 Debt of the Damerals, The . 18 
 Divine Satisfaction, The . 25 
 Do We Need a New Theology ? 22 
 Dutch in the Medway, The . 10 
 Earlier Prophets, The Messages 
 
 of the . . . -11 
 Earliest Christian Hymn, The 15 
 Early Pupils of the Spirit . 17 
 Ecc Vir . . . .22 
 Education of a Soul, The 
 Emilia's Inheritance . .17 
 England's Danger . . 26 
 
 Epistle to the Galatians, The 15 
 Esther Wynne - . 10, 17 
 Eternal Religion, The . 
 Evangelical lleterodoxy . 7 
 Evolution, Life and Religion . 5 
 Evolution of Old Testament 
 
 Religion, The . .8 
 
 Exposition, The Art of . .8 
 Ezekiel, The Book of . .2 
 Faces in the Mist ... 4 
 Faith and Form . . .19 
 Faith and Verification . . 6 
 Faith of a Wayfarer, The . 19 
 Faith the Beginning, Self-Sur- 
 render the Fulfilment, of 
 the Spiritual Life . 21, 29 
 Family Prayers for Morning Use 1 
 Father Fabian . . .17 
 Fifty Years' Reminiscences of a 
 
 Free Church Musician . 13 
 Fireside Fairy Tales . . 23
 
 CATALOGTTE OF BOOKS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 First Christians, The . . 9 
 FJower-o'-the-Corn . 3, 17 
 Forgotten Sheaf, The . . 20 
 Fortune's Favourite . .17 
 Fortunes of Cyril Denhaiu, The 
 
 17, 27 
 " Freedom of Faith " Series, 
 
 The . . .18 
 
 Friend Olivia ... 4 
 Gamble with Life, A . .10 
 Garrisoned Soul, The . . 22 
 Gloria Patri . . . .10 
 Glorious Company of the 
 
 Apostles, The. . .16 
 God's Greater Britain . . 10 
 Golden Truths for Young Folk 23 
 Good New Times, The . .15 
 Gospel of Grace, The . . 8 
 Grey and Gold . . .17 
 Grey House at Endlestone . 17 
 Growing Revelation, The . 5 
 Harvest Gleanings . .15 
 Health and Home Nursing . 24 
 Health in the Home Life . 13 
 Heart of Jessy Laurie, The . 4 
 Heavenly Visions ... 6 
 Heirs of Errington, The . . 17 
 Helga Lloyd ... 3 
 
 Helps to Health and Beauty . 24 
 Higher on the Hill . . 6 
 His Next of Kin . . 10, 17 
 History of the United States, A 2 
 Holidays in Animal Land . 23 
 Holy Christian Empire . .27 
 Holy Spirit, The . . .19 
 House of Bondage, The . .17 
 House of the Secret, The . 3 
 How to Become Like Christ . 21 
 How to Read the Bible . . 23 
 Husbands and Wives . .17 
 Ideals for Girls . . .10 
 Ideals in Sunday School Teach- 
 ing .... 19 
 Immanence of Christ in Modern 
 
 Life, The . . 13 
 
 Impregnable Faith, An . . 13 
 Incarnation of the Lord, The 5 
 Infoldings and Unfolding* of 
 
 the Divine Genius . . 21 
 Inner Mission Leaflets, The . 20 
 Inner Mission Pamphlets, The 16 
 Inspiration in Common Life . 18 
 Interludes in a Time of Change 7 
 Invisible Companion, The . 10 
 Inward^Light, The . . 9 
 Israel's ' " Law Givers, The 
 
 Messages of . . .11 
 Jan Vedder's Wife . 18, 27 
 Jealousy of God, The . .21 
 
 TAGS 
 
 Jesus and His Teaching . . 8 
 Jesus and the Seekers . . 12 
 Jesus or Christ t . . ' . 19 
 Jesus : Seven Questions . 8 
 Jesus, The First Things of . 7 
 Jesus, The Messages of, Accord- 
 ing to the Gospel of John 1 1 
 Jesus, The Messages of, Accord- 
 ing to the Synoptists . 11 
 Joan Carisbroke . . .17 
 Joshua, The Book of . .3 
 Jowett, J. H., M.A., D.D. . 19 
 Judges of Jesus, The . .16 
 Judges, The Book of . .3 
 Kid McGhie . . 3, 17 
 
 Kingdom of the Lord Jesus, 
 
 The . . .21, 26 
 King George and Queen Mary 12 
 Kit Kennedy : Country Boy 3, 17 
 Lady Clarissa . . .17 
 Last of the MacAllisters, The 
 
 11, 18 
 Later Prophets, The Messages 
 
 of the . . . . 11 
 Leaves for Quiet Hours . . 14 
 Let us Pray . . . .20 
 Letters of Christ, The . .18 
 Letters to a Ministerial Son . 12 
 Liberty and Religion . .14 
 Life and Letters of Alexander 
 
 Mackennal, The . . fi 
 Life and Teaching of Jesua, 
 
 Notes on the . . .19 
 Life and the Ideal . . . tf 
 Life, Faith, and Prayer of the 
 
 Church . . . .22 
 Life in His Name ... 7 
 Life's Beginnings . . .12 
 Lifted Veil, A . .13 
 
 Loves of Miss Anne, The 3, 17 
 Lynch, Rev. T. T. : A Memoir 4 
 Lyrics of the Soul . . .13 
 Making of Heaven and Hell, 
 
 The . . . .19 
 Manual for Free Church Minis- 
 ters, A . . . .19 
 Margaret Torrington . 17, 27 
 Marprelate Tracts, The . . 2 
 Martineau's Study of Religion 
 
 21, 26 
 Merry Animal Picture Book, 
 
 The . . .23 
 
 Messages of Hope ... 8 
 Messages of the Bible, The . 11 
 Millicent Kendrick . .17 
 Ministers of the Abbey Inde- 
 pendent Church, The . 
 Ministry of the Modern 
 
 Church, The . . .11
 
 to 
 
 JAMES CLARKE AND CO.T3 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Miss Devereux, Spinster . 18 
 Model Prayer, The . .16 
 Modern Minor Prophets . 13 
 
 Modern Theories of Sin . . 7 
 More Tasty Dishes . . 24 
 Morning and Evening Cries . 15 
 Morning Mist, A . . .18 
 Morning, Noon, and Night . 24 
 Mornington Lecture, The . 4 
 Mors Janua Vitae . . .22 
 Mr. Montmorency's Money 10, 17 
 My Baptism . . .16 
 
 My Belief .... 8 
 My Neighbour and f!od . .14 
 Now Evangel, The . .13 
 New Mrs. Lascelles, The . 18 
 New Testament in Modern 
 
 Speech, The . . .14 
 Nineteen Hundred T . .10 
 Nobly Born . . . .17 
 Nonconformist Church Build- 
 ings . . . .15 
 No Room in the Inn . .19 
 Old Pictures in Modern Frames 21 
 Old Testament Stories in 19 
 Modern Light . .18 
 
 Ol iver Cromwell . . . 25 
 Oliver Westwood . . .17 
 Our City of God ... 9 
 Our Girla' Cookery . . 25 
 Ourselves and the Universe 9, 27 
 Outline Text Lessons for 
 
 Junior Classes . . 23 
 Overdale . . . 10, 17 
 Passion for Souls, The . .18 
 Paton, J. B., M.A., D.D. . 5 
 Paul and Christina . .11 
 Paul, The Messages of . .11 
 Pearl Divers of Roncador 
 
 Reef, The . . .10 
 Personality of Jesus, The . 11 
 Pilot, The . . . .14 
 Plain Talks . . . .22 
 Poems. By Mme. Guyon . 11 
 Poems of Mackenzie Bell, The 14 
 Poets, The Messages of the . 11 
 Polychrome Bible, The 2, 3 
 
 Popular Argument for the 
 
 Unity of Isaiah, A . .15 
 Popular History of the Free 
 
 Churches, A . . 4, 14 
 Practical Lay-Preaching and 
 
 Speaking to Men . .14 
 Prayer < . . . .18 
 Preaching to the Times . .10 
 Price of Priestcraft, The . 22 
 Pride of the Family, The . 18 
 Problems of Immanence . 13 
 Problems of Living . . 9 
 
 Prophetical and Priestly His- 
 torians, The Messages of . 11 
 Psalmists, The Messages of the 11 
 Purpose of the Cross, The . 16 
 Quickening of Caliban, The . 10 
 Quiet Hints to Growing 
 
 Preachers in My Study . 1 1 
 Race and Religion . . .21 
 Reasonable View of Life, A . 18 
 Reasonableness of Jesus, The . 1 9 
 Reasons Why for Congrega- 
 
 tionalists . . .20 
 Reasons Why for Free Church- 
 men . . . .22 
 Reform in Sunday School 
 
 Teaching . . .20 
 Religion and Experience . 9 
 Religion and Miracle . . 7 
 Religion of Jesus, The . .17 
 Religion : The Quest of the 
 
 Ideal . . . .12 
 Religion that will Wear, A . 24 
 Resultant Greek Testament, 
 
 The . . . .15 
 Rights of Man, The . . 4 
 Rise of Philip Barrett, The .4, lo 
 Robert Wreford's Daughter . 10 
 Rogers, J. Guinness . . 2 
 Rome from the Inside . . 25 
 Rosebud Annual, The . 6, 12 
 Ruling Ideas of the Present 
 
 Age . . .6 
 
 Sceptre Without a Sword, The 25 
 School Hymns . . 12, 27 
 Scourge of God, The . .18 
 Sculptors of Life . . .18 
 Secret of Living, The . . 6 
 Sermon Illustration, The Art of 7 
 Sharing His Sufferings . .19 
 She Loved a Sailor . .11 
 Ship of the Soul, The . 21, 26 
 Ship's Engines, The . . 26 
 Sidelights on Religion . . 8 
 Simple Cookery . . .16 
 Simple Things of the Christian 
 
 Life, The . . .18 
 Singlehurst Manor . 10, 17 
 
 Sissio . . . . 10, 17 
 Sister to Esau, A 11, 18 
 
 Small Books on Great Subjects 
 
 21, 26 
 
 Smith, John, the Se-Baptist, 
 Thomas Helwys, and the 
 First Baptist Church in 
 England . ... 5 
 
 Social Salvation ... 6 
 Social Worship on Everlasting 
 
 Necessity . . 21, 26 
 Squire of Sandal Side, The 11, 11
 
 CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 
 
 81 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PACK 
 
 St. Beetha's . 17, 27 
 
 True Christ, The . 
 
 12 
 
 Storehouse for Preachers and 
 
 Types of Christian Life . . 
 
 21 
 
 Teachers . . .20 
 
 Ungilded Gold . . 14. 
 
 20 
 
 Stories of Old . . .17 
 
 Unique Class Chart and 
 
 Story of Congregationalism in 
 
 Register 
 
 27 
 
 Surrey, The ... 8 
 
 Universal 
 
 Over-Presence, The 
 
 12 
 
 Story of Joseph the Dreamer, 
 
 Unknown 
 
 to Herself 
 
 18 
 
 The .... 16 
 
 Value of the Apocrypha, The . 
 
 18 
 
 Story of Penelope, The . .17 
 
 Value of the Old Testament . 
 
 Iti 
 
 Story of the English Baptists, 
 
 Vida . 
 
 . 
 
 3 
 
 The . . . .9 
 
 Violet Vaughan . 10, 17, 27 
 
 Studies of the Soul . 9, 27 
 
 Voice from China, A 
 
 8 
 
 Sunday Afternoon Song Book 
 
 Warleigh's 
 
 Trust . 
 
 17 
 
 23, 27 
 
 Wayfarer at the Cross Roads, 
 
 Sunday Morning Talks with 
 
 The 
 
 
 IS 
 
 Boys and Girls . .15 
 
 Way of Life, The . 
 
 21 
 
 Sunny Memories of Australasia 20 
 Supreme Argument for Chris- 
 
 Way of Prayer, The 
 Wayside Angels . . :. 
 
 19 
 
 24 
 
 tianity, The . . .21 
 
 Web of Circumstance, The 
 
 4 
 
 Tale of a Telephone, A . .26 
 
 Westminster Sermons . *v 
 
 7 
 
 Talks to Little Folks . . 25 
 
 What is the Bible T 
 
 tt 
 
 Taste of Death and the Life of 
 
 Who Wrote the Bible T . 
 
 20 
 
 Grace, The . . 21, 26 
 
 Why We Believe . 
 
 14 
 
 Tasty Dishes . . .24 
 
 Wideness of God's Mercy, The 
 
 18 
 
 Ten Commandments, The . !;"> 
 
 Winning of Immortality, The 7 
 
 Theology and Truth . . 5 
 
 Wisdom of God and the Word 
 
 Theophilus Trinal, Memorials of 4 
 
 of God, The . 
 
 6 
 
 Things Most Surely Believed . 13 
 Thornyoroft Hall . . .17 
 
 Woman's Patience, A . 
 Women and Their Saviour 
 
 17 
 22 
 
 Thoughts for Life's Journey . 121 Women and Their Work 
 Through Science to Faith . 4 Words by the Wayside . . 
 
 20 
 '20 
 
 Tools and the Man . . 6 
 
 Working Woman s Life, A . 
 
 8 
 
 Town Romance, A . .18 
 
 Woven of 
 
 Love and Glory 11, 
 
 18 
 
 Transfigured Church, The . ft 
 
 Young Man's Ideal, A . 
 
 M 
 
 Trial and Triumph . . 20 
 
 Young Man's Religion, A . 
 
 15 
 
 Index of Authors 
 
 PAGE PAGE 
 
 PAOK 
 
 Abbott, Lyman 4, 8 Benvie, Andrew . 6 
 
 Burgess, W. H. . 
 
 5 
 
 Adeney, W. F. 8, 23 Betts, C. H. 12, IS 
 
 Burgin. Isabel 
 
 4 
 
 Aked, C. F. .9 Blake, J. M. 18, 19 
 
 Campbell, R. J. . 
 
 8 
 
 Allin, T. . 12, 21 Bloundelle-Burton 
 
 Carlile, J. C. 9, 
 
 2o 
 
 Andrews, C. C. . 18 J. . . . 18 
 
 Gave, Dr. . 
 
 S 
 
 Angus, A. H. . 19 Bonner, Carey . 12 
 
 Cloal, E. E. . 
 
 S 
 
 Antram, C. E. P. . 22 Boseloy, I. . .6 
 
 Clifford, John 10, 21, 
 
 L'tJ 
 
 Armstrong, R. A. Bosworth, E. I. . 13 
 
 Collins, B. G. 
 
 Ib 
 
 21, 26 Bradford, Amory 
 
 Cowper, W. 
 
 11 
 
 Baker, E. . . 22 H. . . 5, 9 
 
 Crockett, S. R. 3, 
 
 17 
 
 Barr, Amelia E. Brierley, H. E. . 22 
 
 Cubitt, James 
 
 15 
 
 4, 11, 18, 27 Brierley, J. 6,7,8,9, 27 
 
 Cuff, W. . 
 
 20 
 
 Barrett, G. S. . 15 Briggs, C. A. . 6 
 
 Darlow, F. H. . 
 
 L'O 
 
 [{arrows, C. H. . 11 Brooke, Stopford 
 
 Davidson, Gladys 
 
 23 
 
 Becke, Louis .10 A. . . 21, 26 
 
 Dods, Marcus 8, 
 
 BJ 
 
 Bell, Mackenzie . 14 Brown, C. . 6, 18, 20 
 
 Elias, F. 
 
 7 
 
 Bennett, W. H. . 3 Burford, W. K. . 24 
 
 Ellis, J. . 20, 
 
 23
 
 JAMES CLARKE AND CO.'S CATALOGUE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PA OB 
 
 Evana, H. . .22 
 
 Kenyon, Edith C. 19 
 
 Reid, J. . .7 
 
 Farningham, Mari- 
 
 Kirk, E. B. .5 
 
 Rickett, Sir J. 
 
 anne, 8, 10, 13, 
 
 Knight, W. A. . 19 
 
 Compton . 10, 25 
 
 16, 20, 22 
 
 Lansfeldt, L. .18 
 
 Riddfttte, J. H. . 27 
 
 Farrar, Dean . 8 
 
 La Touche, E. D. 7 
 
 Robarte, F. H. . 16 
 
 Finlayson, T. Camp- 
 
 Layman, A. . 22 
 
 Roberts, R. .16 
 
 bell . . 26 
 
 Lee. E. . . 3 
 
 Rogers, J. Guin- 
 
 Fiske, J. . .2 
 
 Lee, W. T. . . 14 
 
 ness . . 2 
 
 Forsyth, P. T. 
 
 Leggatt, F. Y. . 19 
 
 Russell, F. A. .18 
 
 8, 21, 26, 27 
 
 Lewis, E. W. .19 
 
 Sabatier, A. .8 
 
 Foston, H. . .12 
 
 Llewellyn, D. J. . 20 
 
 Sanders, F. K. . 11 
 
 F re man tie, Dean . 8 
 
 Lyall. David 4. 15 
 
 Schrenok, E. von 8 
 
 Furnesa, H. H. . 2 
 
 Lynch, T. T. . 4 
 
 Scottish Presbyte- 
 
 Garvie, A. E. . 12 
 
 Lynd, William . 20 
 
 rian, A . .24 
 
 Gibbon, J. Morgan 
 
 Macfadyen, D. 6, 11 
 
 Shakespeare, J. H. 19 
 
 7, 16 
 
 MoFadyen, J. E. 19 
 
 Shepherd, J. A. . 23 
 
 Giberne, Agnea . 18 
 
 Macfarlano, Charles 10 
 
 Sinclair, Archdea- 
 
 Gladden, Washington 
 
 M'Intyre, D. M. . 7 
 
 con . 21, 26 
 
 6, 8, SO, 21 
 
 Mackennal, Alex- 
 
 Smyth, Newman . 4 
 
 Glover, It. . .22 
 
 ander . 21, 26 
 
 Snell, Bernard J. 
 
 Godet, Professor . 8 
 
 Manners, Mary E. 26 
 
 8, 16, 18 
 
 Gordon, George A. 7 
 
 Man of the World, A 12 
 
 Steuart, J. A. . 4 
 
 Gould, G. P. . 19 
 
 Marchant Bessie 1 8 
 
 Stevenson, J. G. 
 
 Qreenhough, J. G. 
 
 Marchant, J. . 5 
 
 13, 14, 16, 17 
 
 15, 21 
 
 Marshall, N. H. 
 
 Stewart, D. M. 13, 22 
 
 Griffis, W. E, . 4 
 
 6, 12, 16 
 
 Stuart Duncan . 3 
 
 Griffith-Jones, E.5, 21 Martineau, Jas. 21, 26 
 
 Sutter, Julie . 20 
 
 Grubb, E. 16. 19 Mason, E. A. . 26 
 
 Swan, F. R. .13 
 
 Gunn, E. H. M, 12, 27 Mather, Lessels . 24 
 
 Swetenharn, L. .13 
 
 Guyon, Madame . 1 1 Matheson, George 
 
 Tarbolton, A. C.. 16 
 
 Harnack, Professor 8 8, 12, 14, 20, 25 
 
 Thomas, H. Arnold 21 
 
 Harvey-Jellie, W. t> 
 
 Maver, J. S. .21 
 
 Tipple, S. A. .6 
 
 Haupt, P. . .2 
 
 Meado, L. T. .18 
 
 Toy, C. H. . . 2 
 
 Haweis, H. R. . 16 
 
 Metcalfe, R. D. . 23 
 
 Tymms, T. V. . 6 
 
 Heddle, Ethel F. 18 
 
 Meyer, F. B. 18, 22 
 
 Tynan, Katharine 3 
 
 Henson, Canon H. Michael, C. D. . 17 ' Tytler. S. . . 18 
 
 Hensley . 7, 10 
 
 Miller, Elizabeth . 4 Varley, H. . .19 
 
 Hill, F. A. . . 2 
 
 Minahall. E. . 13 , Veitch, R. . 7, 9 
 
 Hocking. S. K. . 10 
 
 Moore, G. F. . 3 Wain, Louis 23, 26 
 
 Hodgson, J. M. . 12 Morgan, G. Camp- 
 
 Walford, L. B. 4. 17 
 
 Hordcr, W. Garrett 21 : bell . 15, 18 
 
 Walker, W. L. . 12 
 
 Home, C. Silvester Morison, F. .19 
 
 Warschauer, J. 
 
 4, 8, 13, 14, 18, 20 Morten, Honnor . 13 
 
 6. 8. 13. 19 
 
 Horton, R, F. 6, 
 
 Mountain, J. . 16 ! Warwick, H. . IS 
 
 8, 19, 21, 24, 25, 26 
 
 Mungor, T. T. 8, 21 
 
 Waters, N. McG. 15 
 
 Hunter, John . 8 
 
 Neilson, H. B. . 23 
 
 Watkinson, W. L. 18 
 
 " J. B." of Th* Orchard, W. E. 7, 8 
 
 Watson, E. S. . 6 
 
 Christian World 25 Palmer, Frederic. 7 
 
 Watson, W. 13, 18 
 
 J. M. G. . .10 Paton, J. B. 
 
 Weymouth, R. F. 
 
 Jefferson, C. E. . 11 11, 16, 20, 22 
 
 14, 15 
 
 Jeffs, H. 6,7,13, 14 15 ! Peake, A. S. . 20 
 
 White. W. . 4 
 
 John, Griffith . 8 ; Pharmaceutical Whiton, J. M. 
 
 Jones, J. D. 8, 13, 
 
 Chemist, A 24 
 
 7, 10, 17, 25 
 
 16, 18, 20, 22, 26 
 
 Picton, J. Allanson 17 
 
 Williams, T.R. 18, 21 
 
 Jowett.J. H. , 18, 19 
 
 Pierce, W. . . 2 
 
 Wilson, P. W. . 14 
 
 Kennedy, H. A. 23, 27 
 
 Powicke, F. J. . 3 
 
 Worboise, Emma 
 
 Kennedy, John . 15 
 
 Pringle, A. 18, 19 
 
 J. 10, 17, 27 
 
 Kant, a F. .11 
 
 Pulsford, John . 21 
 
 Yates, T. . .13 
 
 W. 
 
 , B.C.
 
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