"m^ 
 
 «v» 
 
 m,- 
 
 ,: ^^ci>
 
 / 
 MOTHER CHARLOTTE 
 
 (Mrs. Broadley of Carnmexellis). 
 
 a ^fectci) 
 
 LOUISA HERBERT. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 E. LONGHURST, i88 Upper Kexxingtox Lane, S.E. 
 
 TRURO : MRS. JOHN.
 
 ' If greatness can be shut up in qualities, it will be found 
 to consist in courage, and in openness of mind, and of soul.' 
 
 Sir a. Helps. 
 
 ' In all ages Self-seeking is the rule, Self-sacrifice the 
 exception.'— S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 ' An hour of solitude passed in sincere and earnest prayer, 
 or the conflict with, and conquest over, a single passion, or 
 "subtle bosom sin," will teach us more of thought, will more 
 effectually awaken the faculty, and form the habit of reflection, 
 than a year's study in the schools without them.' — Idem. 
 
 ' I HAVE often thought that the chief occasions of men's 
 differing so much in their opinions were, either their not 
 understanding each other, or else that, instead of ingenuously 
 searching after Truth, they have made it their business to 
 find out arguments for the proof of what they have once 
 asserted.' — BISHOP Butler to Dr. Siumiel Clarke. 
 
 ' Then in such hour of need 
 Of your fainting dispirited race, 
 Ye like angels appear. 
 Radiant with ardour divine. 
 Beacons of hope ye appear. 
 Languor is not in your heart. 
 Weakness is not in your word. 
 Weariness not on your brow.' 
 
 Matthew Arnold. 
 
 I
 
 3[ntrotiuction. 
 
 ^An iinexamined life is a life not worth living.^ 
 
 Socrates. 
 
 * We want the biographies of common people,' says 
 Froude in one of his Essays ; and our every-day 
 experience re-echoes the need. The Church ought 
 to have a store of such lives, uneventful records, 
 yet reaching up to her standard as their rule and 
 guide, to teach us what our ordinary lives should 
 be. We want histories that she could put into her 
 children's hands, and say, Here is my teaching 
 drawn out into practical reality: this is such a man, 
 or woman, or child, as I want you to be, as you 
 ought to be, as you can be. There is no need that 
 these stories should be of people with special bril- 
 liancy or distinction about them, that they should 
 have been endowed with marked keenness of intel- 
 lect, have derived any reflected lustre from inter- 
 course with the great and noble. They may be
 
 IV 
 
 l[ntrot(uctiou. 
 
 uneventful and uninteresting lives, lived out in 
 some quiet corner in monotony, in common-place 
 duties, with faulty humdrum people for associates, 
 with narrow means perhaps, and little leisure or 
 opportunity of culture. Records of people who 
 never achieve much outward success, whose years 
 wear away in a round of rather dismal dutfes, of 
 petty economies, or of thankless, unappreciated 
 ministry ; but in spite of all this, and beyond and 
 breaking through all this, are yet beautiful in their 
 example, golden in their teaching, and kindling by 
 their animating power. 
 
 For, after all, when we get below the surface 
 down to the real stuff of which a life is made, is 
 there such a thing as the ' common-place,' of which 
 we so often talk ? Is not every action great in 
 proportion to the thought that lies behind it ? 
 Whether it be the raising or depression of an 
 Emperors thumb, the scattering of a grain of 
 incense, or the busy round of daily toil. When 
 the smallest ordinary duty falls into its true 
 relation to our life, to the meaning of that life, 
 and to the Giver of that life, can we, dare we, 
 call it common-place ? 
 
 Principles make the grandeur of living ; and 

 
 Ifntrotfiiftion. 
 
 when those are pure, high, and enduring, no toil or 
 monotony can make a Hfe ignoble. ' Three parts 
 of all the work done in the world that is worth 
 doing,' said the present Bishop of Exeter in one of 
 his speeches, 'is drudgery;' and may God send the 
 wise saying home to many minds. Let us learn to 
 separate the real from the accidental, the jewel 
 from its setting. It is not what we do, but how and 
 why we do it, that is of supreme importance. 
 
 The end of living is to form character, not to 
 get through a certain amount of toil (be the sphere 
 where or what it may). Work is the means, but 
 character is the end. There is no occupation so 
 monotonous and uninteresting, but that in it may 
 be found a field for the exercise of the highest 
 graces ; and every life is great, just so far as the 
 possessor recognises its highest possibilities, and 
 carries them into action. 
 
 This sketch of a quiet, homely woman's life, is 
 attempted solely on this basis, and for these rea- 
 sons ; not to record her accomplishments or her 
 cultivation of intellect, as for neither of these was 
 she remarkable. Moving incidents and variety of 
 surroundings may give interest to a history, but 
 scarcely any come into her seventy-six years.
 
 introtriiction. 
 
 Her's is the life of a daughter of the Church, who 
 clearly and unmistakably took as the guiding prin- 
 ciple of her actions, that ' the outward circum- 
 stances of her life were the expression of God's Will 
 to her as an individual ;' and so believing, all the 
 powers of her body, mind, and spirit, were directed 
 first to understand, and then to obey, that Will. 
 
 It seems to those who knew and honoured her, 
 that the enduring lesson of her quiet life was this : 
 faithfulness in little things, leading her by God's 
 guiding to accomplish great things — a lesson never 
 more needing to be learnt than in the restless age 
 in which our lives are cast, when what is new, un- 
 usual, striking, or original, commends itself to the 
 doer far more than the quiet, hidden, monotonous 
 toil, which the duties of most lives require for their 
 adequate fulfilment. 
 
 We reach out to the ends of the earth for a 
 kingdom to subdue and in which to reign, when the 
 kingdom of God is within us, and the most blessed 
 dominion lies at our hand, in tendance, training, and 
 ministry to be given to the bodies, minds, and 
 souls, in the little circle which immediately environs 
 us. Great possibilities of kingly ruling exist so 
 close to our feet, that the eager eye passes them
 
 ^futi'OtJuctuJiT. vii 
 
 unnoticed in straining for some spot on which to 
 rest in a far-off horizon. 
 
 The biographies which Mr. Froude, in perhaps 
 a somewhat querulous spirit, demands, and which 
 are a felt want to many minds needing simple 
 practical examples of living, and yearning to be 
 taught by the sight of holy doctrine translated into 
 noble action, can only be supplied by the Church 
 of God. 
 
 Modern writers, possessing the highest gifts of 
 imagination, seem as incapable of producing a 
 healthy and noble Ideal as was the cultivated 
 Heathen World before the Advent of our Lord. 
 We need only compare for a moment the heroes of 
 some of the most striking novels of the age — i.e. 
 Daniel Deronda, Endyinion, and yohn Inglesant — 
 with such lives as those of Bishop Paterson, Com- 
 modore Goodenough, and Charles Lowder, to be at 
 once struck by the contrast between the World 
 and the Church, between a noble 7'2iling of the cir- 
 cumstances of life, and a willess drifting on the 
 surface of their current. 
 
 The Parsonage, Vauxhall, 
 All Sauzts' Day, 1882.
 
 S^ot^tx Cl)arlotte 
 
 (MRS. BROADLEY OF CARNMENELLIS). 
 
 A/T ARIA Charlotte Broadley was of an Irish 
 family, and went out early in life to Jamaica, 
 to live with an uncle who Was settled there. She 
 used to relate that, having lost his only daughter, 
 her uncle found so great a resemblance to his lov^ed 
 child in his niece Maria, that he begged her father 
 to be allowed to adopt her. 
 
 In 1833 she married the Rev. William Broadley, 
 who was an island Curate in Jamaica, and after a 
 few years' residence there — a time which she always 
 spoke of, as having been equally a trial to her 
 bodily health, and to her ideas of social purity — 
 she returned to England with her husband, who 
 settled in Cornwall, holding first the Curacy of 
 Cury and Gunwalloe, and shortly afterwards the 
 Incumbency of Carnmenellis, of which parish he 
 continued Vicar for tweU'C years, until his death 
 in 1855. 
 
 The occasion of the removal of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Broadley to their new parish led to a great crisis
 
 TO iUot^tv Cljarlottr. 
 
 in her spiritual history. Their furniture had been 
 sent on, and they were driving in their own car- 
 riage to take possession of their new home. Crossing 
 a bleak, desolate moor, the horse took fright, be- 
 came unmanageable, and dashed the carriage to 
 pieces, both its occupants being thrown violently 
 on the ground. Mr. Broadley was unhurt, but 
 Mrs. Broadley was severely bruised, and her leg 
 broken. The horse had escaped ; no assistance 
 was near ; and after drawing her gently to the 
 bank at the road-side, Mr. Broadley went off to 
 the nearest village for help. It was two miles 
 away, and three hours elapsed before his return. 
 Those hours of bodily agony and mental loneliness, 
 had blessed work to do on the soul of the sufferer. 
 She cast herself, with all the power of her will, 
 upon God, and realised on that wild moorside, as 
 she had never before done. His nearness. His 
 Mercy, and His Pardoning Love. When her hus- 
 band returned, instead of hearing the wail of pain 
 from her lips, she was praising God aloud, out of 
 a full and thankful heart. 
 
 Through the long weeks of enforced quiet, after 
 her leg was set, this joyful frame of mind con- 
 tinued. In bodily weakness she praised God for 
 spiritual healing, and was wont to say in after 
 years, * The breaking of my leg was the conver- 
 sion -of my soul.' 
 
 The twelve years at Carnmenellis were marked 
 by much energetic work in Schools, Church, and 
 
 I
 
 {Boti)tv Cj^arlottc. 
 
 Parish. Mr. Broadley, a man of impetuous tem- 
 perament and profuse generosity, was greatly be- 
 loved by his parishioners, and his wife fully shared 
 both his labours and his popularity. 
 
 At her husband's death, Mrs. Broadley being 
 very anxious to secure a spiritually minded clergy- 
 man as his successor, wrote to Lord Palmerston, 
 then Prime Minister, and requested the nomination 
 for a friend of her husband, from whose zeal she 
 hoped great good might flow to the Parish. This 
 letter was unfortunately lost, and much delay and 
 anxiety to her resulted in consequence. She had 
 made it a matter of earnest prayer, and had asked 
 the devout people in the Parish to join her in her 
 intercessions, that work for God might still be 
 carried on in their midst. Finally, Lord Palmer- 
 ston, though he had had many applications from 
 other quarters, gave it as she had desired. After 
 this time of anxious uncertainty, she felt it would 
 be for the best interests of the Parish to secure the 
 patronage herself; and from her rather slender 
 means she devoted looo/. to the purchase of the 
 Advowson, and afterwards assigned it to a body of 
 Trustees. 
 
 To most women, the death which shadowed 
 her life, would have broken the tie which bound 
 her to this little Cornish village, filled thenceforth 
 with the saddening memory of a past happiness. 
 She did not, however, so read the finger-post of 
 duty. God, in His providence, had made the bond;
 
 12 Mot\)tv CTjavIottt. 
 
 it was not for her, unless by the clear leading of 
 His Spirit in another direction, to break it. She 
 iDuilt herself a little four-roomed cottage on the 
 glebe, close to the Church, purposing to spend there 
 the remainder of her life on earth, in self-denying 
 labour for the souls, whose welfare, no new interests 
 ever drove from their place in her prayers and her 
 affections. But the leading of God came, and when 
 the new duty presented to her seemed clearly a 
 call from Him, home, plans, pursuits, friends, were 
 at once given up, to respond to its claims. 
 
 A sister, twenty years younger than herself, 
 from whom she had been separated from childhood, 
 and with whom no mutual intercourse existed to 
 strengthen the tie of blood, was suddenly left a 
 widow, with children needing help and training ; 
 and without a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Broadley 
 abandoned her own designs and congenial occupa- 
 tions, to open her heart, and make a home for the 
 fatherless. Her beloved little Tranquilla Cottage 
 was left behind, and she took up her abode in the 
 far less inviting neighbourhood of the suburbs of 
 London, to devote herself, with an equally unselfish 
 affection, to the education of her nieces and the 
 comfort of their widowed mother. 
 
 Some time in 1866 Mrs. Broadley made the 
 acquaintance of the Rev. G. W. Herbert, the vicar 
 of S. Peter's, Vauxhall, a large Parish on the south 
 side of the Thames, with a population of ten thou- 
 sand people, entirely of the poorer class. It was a
 
 iHotl^tv CIjavTottf. 
 
 newly formed Parish, the mass of the people un- 
 reached by any spiritual influences ; workers of all 
 kind were needed, and there was no leisure class 
 from which to supply them. 
 
 Such a field of labour at once aroused Mrs. 
 Broadley's sympathies, and the Vicar, on his part,, 
 recognised as quickly, the value of her devotion and 
 spiritual experience, in training helpers in the great 
 work of evangelization which God had given into 
 his hands. A Community of Sisters, who would 
 supply the house-to-house visitation, and other 
 agencies which were imperatively needed, to try 
 in any way to reach such a population, was the 
 great want. There were no ladies to supply the ne- 
 cessary District Visitors or Sunday-school teachers^ 
 and a house had already been taken, in which two 
 Sisters resided. To this small Community, the 
 Vicar of S. Peter's invited Mrs. Broadley to de- 
 vote her fostering love and valuable experience ; 
 and the offer was at once accepted as a task given 
 to her by her Lord Himself, for the advancement of 
 His Church and the winning of precious souls. 
 The intense humility with which she undertook it, 
 and the constant doubts of her own fitness for what 
 was a very onerous and difficult duty, were only 
 counterbalanced by the trust which assured her, 
 that wisdom and strength would be given for a 
 work, undertaken simply for God's honour and 
 glory, which had come to her unsought, and was 
 unmixed with worldly motives.
 
 14 MQt\)n' Cljarlottt. 
 
 On Holy Innocents' Day, 1866, she was made 
 a Sister Probationer in the little chapel of the 
 Sisterhood, then occupying their old house, Eldon 
 Lodge, Upper Kennington Lane. As in her case 
 a long probation was unnecessary, she was con- 
 firmed in her Sister's vocation six months after, on 
 July 5th in the next year, 1867, and made the First 
 Superior three weeks after — S. James's Day. 
 
 Her Sister's habit gave great dignity to her tall 
 figure, and the close white cap suited her spiritual 
 and expressive face. She always clung to this 
 religious dress to the end of her life, as a symbol 
 of her special dedication to her Lord for the service 
 of His Church, and it was at her particular request 
 that she was buried in it. 
 
 An extract from a letter she v/rote to the Vicar, 
 who was away in Devonshire for his holiday, about 
 a month after her election as Superior, shows the 
 spirit in which that office was held by her : — 
 
 ' . . . Thanks for your kind wishes ; but neither the 
 lovely breezes of Exmoor, nor the sea I love so dearly, 
 raises even the wish for a change. New scenes have no 
 power with the old Sister. These days are long gone by, 
 leaving but the desire to be again near my last resting- 
 place. That in God's good time. All well, quiet, and 
 happy in our little household. ... I do feel that God is 
 
 blessing 's (one of the new Associates) labours 
 
 amongst us. I trust the Sisterhood will be a comfort 
 to you and useful in the parish. My working days are 
 over, yet I may be permitted to fill a gap. In one of 
 our Cornish prayer-meetings, nine or ten years ago, I was
 
 ifHotljcr Cljarlottc. 15 
 
 present whilst a prayer was offered for " the ould ancient 
 Sister what keeps these doores abroad." I may still be 
 used for the same purpose, till you get some one more 
 fitted for the office you have so kindly given me. . . .' 
 
 To give any real idea how her Community life 
 was lived, and the spirit which animated and sus- 
 tained it, one must judge it not from without only, 
 but from within, and learn its true character from 
 those who lived it with her. 
 
 The aim of the Community may perhaps best 
 be described, by the words which are said to each 
 Associate as the Cross is given to them at their 
 admission. They are these : * Take this Cross and 
 wear it, and let it ever remind you, that you are 
 ■called to plead with the erring by the power of the 
 Crucified, and to tell them of His Name, Who hath 
 opened the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers.' 
 
 Let us hear from one of the oldest Sisters of 
 the Community^, how this aim was fulfilled in Mother 
 Charlotte's case : — 
 
 ' Four things in the character of our dear Mother 
 Charlotte I always reverenced. 
 
 ' I. Her Spirit of Prayer. — Like her beloved Master, 
 it was her practice to rise a great while before day, and 
 to retire to some solitary place where she might pour out 
 her soul in prayer. In the little oratory at Eldon Lodge, 
 during our seven years' residence there, " Early will I 
 seek Thee " was true of her. She never allowed cold, or 
 pain, or increasing infirmities, to rob her of that precious 
 time of spiritual communion. She loved especially the
 
 i6 :0(otijtr Cijarlottt. 
 
 early Offices [in which all the Sisters joined], and some- 
 times [in later years, when the numbers had increased, 
 and they were in their present building] she aroused the 
 household at 2 or 3 a.m. in her anxiety for us to be 
 stirring in time. 
 
 ' 2. Her lVit?iess for God, — In season and out of 
 season she never failed, but named the Precious Saving 
 Name to all her voice or pen could reach. Every inmate 
 was faithfully dealt with, as were also the visitors, the poor, 
 the tradespeople, none were neglected. Once, when I 
 accompanied her to the dentist, to my surprise and ad- 
 miration (for she was suffering, and was naturally very 
 sensitive to physical pain), she spoke plainly to him on 
 the subject of his soul's Salvation. 
 
 ' 3. Her Tenderness of Conscience. — She was often like 
 a child in this respect. She would suffer any pain or 
 inconvenience rather than refuse to obey the least touch 
 of her inward guide. 
 
 ^ 4. Her Purity. — She was most modest and pure in 
 word and manner, and very unwilling at any time to 
 believe evil of others. 
 
 ' These four virtues in her daily life, so steadily prac- 
 tised, have always been very helpful to me and to 
 others. . . .' 
 
 Those Avho best knew Mother Charlotte, cannot 
 fail to recognise how truly these points give the 
 key-note to the appreciation of her character. That 
 habit of prayer which the Sister so truly puts first 
 on record had shaped and made her what she was 
 — an eminently spiritual woman, not only in the 
 passive, but in the aggressive sense. Prayer was 
 her weapon as well as her comfort. In helping the
 
 ^totijcr Ojavlottc. 17 
 
 souls of others she prayed — as has been said of 
 another great servant of God — 'all round you/ that 
 by her piercing wcrds an entrance might be won 
 for the Holy Spirit into the heart. 
 
 ' I well remember a conversation I once had 
 with the Mother,' writes an old friend, ' on the diffi- 
 culties of prayer, for it was such a lasting help to 
 me. " We do not," she said, " look upon prayer 
 enough as a luork. It is a good plan to make ap- 
 pointments with God as to times and subjects of 
 prayer. Every one who prays in Church raises or 
 lowers the spiritual temperature of that Church by 
 the earnestness or coldness of their devotions. If 
 we would be warm, we must go to the fire : if we 
 would burn with love to Jesus, we must go often 
 where Jesus is." The combined vigour and tender- 
 ness with which she spoke, caused her words to 
 make a deep impression on me.' 
 
 This counsel, given to another. Mother Char- 
 lotte applied ardently to her own practice. In the 
 London Mission of 1874, perpetual intercession for 
 ten days was organized in the parish of S. Peter's, 
 to ask a blessing on the work of winning souls. 
 The Sisters took the night hours, as being the most 
 difficult to get filled up ; and Mother Charlotte 
 thus writes on the subject to one of the Sisters 
 whom she dearly loved : — 
 
 ' You are very dear to me, and often in my thoughts 
 and in my prayers, more particularly now in " the hour^' 
 and a very blessed hour it is. I have been kept so 
 
 B
 
 Moti)t\: €\)avlottt. 
 
 punctual, never once sleeping beyond the 3.30, so I am 
 dressed and in the Oratory by 4 a.m. I do feel so 
 
 thankful The intercession for Sister M will 
 
 be faithfully attended to. May God bless her in that 
 which she needs for His service! .... All here love 
 you dearly; and I should and will say, none more 
 tenderly than the old Mother. 
 
 ' Ever dearest, yours affectionately in Jesus, 
 
 'Sr. Charlotte.' 
 
 Prayer had given her spiritual discernment in 
 no common measure. As an old friend describing 
 her said, ' She knew exactly where to take up 
 the threads of an imperfect Penitence or Faith;' 
 and she could put her finger on the weak point 
 of a soul's life with an almost unerring judgment. 
 Sometimes this judgment was expressed with 
 startling plainness. A parish worker was one day 
 urging the advantages of Guilds as a help to 
 Christian life, without giving — as the Mother 
 thought — due prominence to the necessity of 
 spiritual life in the soul, before becoming a member 
 of such an Association. ' If you tie them up in a 
 Guild,' she said energetically, ' without grace or 
 liberty in their souls, you are only binding them 
 in bundles to burn them.' 
 
 Her spiritual penetration often gave to what 
 she said special power, even when there was little 
 that was remarkable in the words themselves. 
 ' I can never forget one particular afternoon,' 
 relates some one, ' when Mrs. Broadley (it was just
 
 fHoti^fr C]^arIottt. 19 
 
 before she was made a Sister) came in to see me. 
 I was nursing a sick baby that lay suffering on my 
 knee. I was very weary ; it seemed to me as if all 
 I had done to help the child's mother was taken as 
 a matter of course, and that I was neither thanked 
 nor appreciated. Mrs. Broadley stood by in silence, 
 looking at the little sufferer, and seemed to have 
 read my heart through and through ; for, after a 
 pause, she said, slowly and emphatically, " Foras- 
 much as ye have done it unto the least of these 
 My brethren, ye have done it unto ^le." From 
 that moment the room, the child's fretful w^ail, my 
 weary arms — all were transformed, and a strange 
 joy filled my heart at the honour of being given a 
 task to do for my Lord Himself. T should never 
 have thought of it but for her words.' 
 
 Constant communion with God kept Mother 
 Charlotte's naturally loving nature awake to the 
 power of sympathy, and generous in its bestowal. 
 ' It pleased God,' writes one of the Associates of 
 her Community, ' that she should bestow upon me 
 at the beginning of our acquaintance, fourteen 
 years ago, some of the wealth of her intense love 
 which never failed me. During a great trial, her 
 kindness, sympathy, and forbearance, given me for 
 her Lord's sake, kept me from despair, and helped 
 me safely through it. Her well-stored mind, won- 
 derful memory, and lovdng nature, made her a de- 
 lightful companion ; but, above all, she had such 
 love to God, and lived in such close communion
 
 20 Mot\)tv Cljarlottc. 
 
 with Him, that after being with her, one felt as if 
 one had been with Jesus, for He was the end and 
 aim of her Being.' 
 
 There is another thought which grows out of 
 reflections on her use of prayer, and that is the 
 necessity for its correlative — study of, and medita- 
 tion on, God's Word. The mind must be fed, as 
 well as the heart fired. For, as Coleridge has said, 
 ' The exercise of reasoning is requisite to keep 
 alive faith in the heart. ... It must be Seraphs, 
 not the hearts of imperfect mortals, that can burn 
 unfuelled and self-fed.' ' Give me understanding, 
 and I shall keep Thy law.' Holy Scripture was 
 Sister Charlotte's storehouse of wisdom. She 
 was not, what in these days could be called an 
 intellectual woman, but all the powers of her 
 mind awoke in the study and application of the 
 Bible. 
 
 ' Her illustrations at her Bible Class were charm- 
 ing,' says an Associate who was often present. She 
 brought out the spiritual meaning of a passage with 
 simplicity and power, and always pressed it home 
 as a practical reality in the life. 
 
 In the varied experience of her history, God had 
 brought her in contact with more than one phase 
 of religious effort — the preaching the simple Gospel 
 of a free Salvation to sinners, and the building up of 
 the Saints in their most Holy Faith, by the Church's 
 rule and discipline. She saw clearly the two sides 
 of the truth, and held them evenly. She never
 
 {Bot\)tx €))nv\ottt. 
 
 wavered about Conversion to God, its necessity and 
 blessedness. She was never satisfied that a soul 
 who had experienced its power, should rest in self- 
 satisfied sloth on the mere fact of that experience, 
 Avithout ' working out ' the salvation given ' with 
 fear and trembling.' No one could rejoice more 
 freely than she did, in intimate personal com- 
 munion with her Saviour and Redeemer ; no one 
 could more ardently realise the blessedness of her 
 Corporate union with her Master and King, in the 
 Sacramental life of His Church. She was blessed 
 in the Church's blessing, she was taught by the 
 Church's teaching. The critical, cavilling spirit, 
 was utterly foreign to her mind. The Church's 
 Seasons gave the tone to her thoughts, the Church's 
 feeding was to her truly the Bread of Life. No 
 child was ever more loyal to a beloved mother, than 
 was she to her Spiritual Mother. There was no 
 restlessness because of imperfections, no faithless- 
 ness to the legitimate authority of the Branch of the 
 Catholic Church in which the providence of God 
 had placed her. This balance of truth gave great 
 power to her advice and teaching ; she said out 
 directly and firmly what she meant without he- 
 sitancy, and it inspired a confidence, which no mere 
 display of critical acumen could have given. 
 
 This directness, which was a marked character- 
 istic of her teaching, and indeed of her ordinary 
 conversation, leads us to that second point in her 
 Sister's description of her — ?>., her WitJiess for
 
 Moti)tv Cljarlottt. 
 
 Go^. It was simple, faithful, and most nobly 
 courageous. For years, until sickness began to lay 
 its disabling hand upon her bodily vigour, no one, 
 of whatever age, rank, sex, or profession, ever 
 entered the Sisterhood walls without some Avord of 
 exhortation, or sympathy, or comfort, or warning, 
 being spoken to them by her for their soul's health. 
 It was done with such honesty and love, that she 
 nev'Cr gav^e offence. ' I was astonished,' relates one 
 Sister, ' when I went with Mother to take the old 
 clock to be mended, to hear her gently, but firmly, 
 question the tradesman, quite an old man, about 
 the state of his soul' Perhaps he was as much 
 astonished as the Mother's companion ; but the 
 result was very blessed. It was the beginning of 
 an influence which ended in his turning to God, 
 and living faithfully in the Church's communion up 
 to his death. 
 
 ' I am very anxious about 's soul,' said a 
 
 person to her one day. ' And what have you done 
 to show that you are so anxious?' replied Mother 
 Charlotte. ' Have you gone down on your knees, 
 side by side, and told it all to God, that she may 
 know what is in your heart, and where the help is 
 to be sought and found }' 
 
 The greatest of sermon-writers perhaps in this 
 generation, has published one on the rarely enforced 
 duty we owe to ' Our Equals,' and asks suggestively 
 whether it may not be a more searching ordeal of 
 character, than those duties we owe to inferiors, or
 
 ifHotljcr Cfjai'Iottr. 23 
 
 to sufferers ? It is certainly much more difficult to 
 fulfil than the exercise of the compassionate virtues, 
 and it requires far rarer qualities. 
 
 Mother Charlotte's combination of courage and 
 simple directness, brought great blessing in her 
 intercourse with those in her own rank of life. 
 The world's standard was not her measure, and she 
 was never ashamed of her colours. It was almost 
 impossible to be offended with her, even when she 
 administered a rebuke, because her sincerity was so 
 patent, her manner so simple, and her convictions 
 were so evidently deep and genuine, that one could 
 not resent what she said. 
 
 A clergyman's wife was brought to call on her 
 one day rather overdressed, and she failed at first 
 to catch the name of her visitor. When it was 
 repeated to her, she looked with honest amazement 
 
 at the gorgeous array, and said frankly, 'Mrs. ? 
 
 Impossible, my dear! This lady cannot be the wife 
 of the priest of that name ?' The observation was 
 not meant as a rebuke ; but its meaning was too 
 patent to escape her visitor, who received it with 
 a humility as beautiful as was the honesty of the 
 speaker : and one who stood by, felt that nothing 
 but blessing could come of intercourse so marked 
 by God's grace on both sides. 
 
 Conflict is the school in which God's saints are 
 trained, and Mother Charlotte's experience was 
 no exception to theirs. ' What battles I have had 
 in this little room !' she once said, looking round the
 
 24 |Kot]^tr Cl^avlottt. 
 
 small Oratory in the old house where her commu- 
 nity life first began. ' Every plank of the floor is 
 marked by some internal struggle,' fought out, no 
 doubt, on her knees, in those early morning hours 
 which she ever consecrated to communion with 
 her Lord. 
 
 She was a woman of intense feeling, half- 
 hearted in nothing ; some things were to her great 
 trials, which would have been trifles to a person of 
 more robust sensibility. The third point — which 
 one of her sisters observed as a striking feature in 
 her character — was her Tenderness of Conscience, and 
 it was most remarkable. Sometimes she almost 
 tortured her spirit in her examination of the purity 
 of her own motives ; and would appeal to others to 
 condemn her, in her fear lest she should excuse 
 herself. There was a noble generosity about her, 
 which showed itself in readiness to ask pardon, if 
 she felt she had hurt or offended another by the 
 slightest word or action. 
 
 ' I wish Mother Charlotte would not ask 's 
 
 pardon/ indignantly reflected an Associate some- 
 times ; ' for if an inch represented her ofl'ence, the 
 fault on the other side was yards long.' But the 
 Mother never waited for an apology to be brought 
 to her, but humbled herself generously, when the 
 convictions of her sensitive conscience told her 
 that an acknowledgment of her fault was needful. 
 * When I came back,' said a Sister who had been 
 away a long time, ' the Mother's greeting was to
 
 ifHoti^tv CJarlottt. 25 
 
 throw her arms round my neck, and ask my pardon 
 for any rude or unkind words she might ever have 
 been guilty of towards me ; and never had I felt to 
 love her as I did when she made this apology.' 
 
 Once, in later years, a relative suggested to her 
 that some plan she had made, was the outcome of 
 a subtle worldly policy. The Mother was not 
 indignant, as most people in her place would have 
 been, but crushed ; tears streamed down her fine, 
 open face, and she seemed as if searching the 
 depths of her own spirit, to detect whether so base 
 and unworthy a thought had really been harboured 
 there. 
 
 It was this extreme sensibility which hindered 
 her from becoming a good ruler. With all her fine 
 Cjualities, she could not govern well ; she leant on, 
 and longed for, the sympathy of others too in- 
 tensely, ever to gain that calm balance of spirit, 
 which is essential to wise and successful rule. 
 
 ' If God has called you to govern others, my 
 sister,' said a far-seeing mission priest to her one 
 da\% ' you must learn to live alone : it is the fate of 
 all who rule.' 
 
 ' Oh, don't give me so hard a precept ! ' was her 
 reply, wrung out of her tender, clinging nature. ' I 
 can never obey it.' 
 
 The counsel was needed, and was most wise ; 
 she could pour herself out for others, but not rule 
 tJicni. 
 
 It was this feeling of failure in mastering fully
 
 26 Plotljcr CJjarlottt. 
 
 the difficulties of governing a Community, that no 
 doubt caused her such struggles of spirit ; and they 
 Avere God's means of holy discipline to her ardent 
 and naturally impulsive disposition. ' Our greatest 
 victories are the victories God gains over us.' 
 
 But whatever the battles were within, there was 
 no gloom without. ' The Mother makes one love 
 religion,' said one, ' only to look on her kind face.' 
 Her genial, cheerful manners, attracted many to 
 listen to her pleading in the cause of her Master, 
 who otherwise would have turned a deaf ear to 
 holy subjects. 'I used to bring people to the 
 S. Peter's Teas when I knew she would be there,' 
 recalls one who loved her well, ' on purpose that 
 she might say a word to their souls ; because I felt 
 they would take from her what would have offended 
 them in any one else.' 
 
 One of the reasons for this brightness in her 
 work was her spirit of thanksgiving. ' I wish 
 people would keep a book of subjects for thanks- 
 giving,' she said one day to an Associate, ' besides 
 their self-examination ; for nothing narrows the 
 heart like neglect of this duty, and much spiritual 
 advancement is lost, by not giving hearty thanks in 
 return for answers to special prayer.' In 1868^ 
 after one of the Parochial Missions at S. Peter's,, 
 she writes : — ' The Mission was the best we have 
 yet had, and has indeed been blessed to very 
 many. On the Tuesday after, there was a Thanks- 
 giving ; I was glad to hear it, though I was not
 
 0loti)cr Cj^arlottc. 27 
 
 there to join in it' [she had gone to Carnmenellis], 
 *for I do believe that a want of gratitude to our 
 good God, is the cause of much depression in our 
 own souls, and deprives us of many blessings.' 
 
 The Sister, whose letter was quoted at length 
 for its clear estimate of the j\Iother's character^ 
 gives Purity as one of them — a special modesty 
 and reticence in speaking of sins which wound 
 chastity, both of body and mind ; a tender shrink- 
 ing from realising the existence of vice in others. 
 Perhaps there is no greater testimony to the in- 
 ward discipline of her spirit, than that this should 
 be her characteristic tone of mind and expression, 
 when we remember that she had passed several 
 years of her life amongst the slave population of 
 Jamaica ; Avhere sins of the flesh must have been 
 continually brought before her, and the low moral 
 tone of the dominant white race in relation to the 
 coloured population, was a matter of undisguised 
 and unblushing scandal. So truly is the Gospel 
 promise fulfilled, ' If they take up any deadly thing 
 it shall not hurt them,' 
 
 The Church's weapon of fasting had also been 
 faithfully used, and no doubt had contributed to 
 this blessed result. For some years of her life, 
 before she came to the Sisterhood, she kept Friday 
 very strictly, taking no food till after 3 p.m., and 
 S. Paul's rule, ' I keep my body under, and bring 
 it into subjection,' was her standard down to the 
 last day of her life.
 
 28 {Boti)tv Cijavlottf. 
 
 During Lent, in the year before her death, she 
 resolutely had removed from the little sitting-room 
 of her cottage at Carnmenellis a small sofa which 
 ordinarily stood there, in case she should unneces- 
 sarily indulge herself by resting upon it. 
 
 The care of her nieces, which Mother Charlotte 
 had so willingly and generously undertaken, was a 
 duty she fulfilled with characteristic energy and 
 love. She seemed to pour out all the warmth of 
 her heart on these adopted children ; their health, 
 their education, and their training, were matters of 
 earnest prayer and effort to her. 
 
 The youngest, a fragile little girl, was loved by 
 her with a most intense affection ; * her little child,' 
 ' her lamb,' she called her, and the delicacy of this 
 child, caused her many and constant anxieties. 
 
 For some time before Mother Charlotte ceased 
 to reside with her Community, it had become evi- 
 dent, that gathering infirmities made the task of 
 guiding so many interests, too heavy a burden for 
 her increasing years. 
 
 She had been obliged to give up her Bible Class 
 for a long time. The seeing strangers and visitors, 
 which she had once rejoiced in, as so many God- 
 given opportunities of testifying for her Master, she 
 now shrank from, with the weariness of failing 
 strength. 
 
 A kind of neuralgic pain used to come on with 
 terrible regularity at certain hours of the day, and 
 its exhausting effects incapacitated her for exertion.
 
 Plotljtr Cijarlottt. 29 
 
 She began to realise that God's leading was 
 pointing her to a less laborious position, and when 
 her third term of Office expired, (the Superior of 
 the Community, being by their rule re-elected 
 every three years), she determined, without in any 
 way severing the tie which bound her to the Sisters 
 and to the Religious Life, to retire to some quiet 
 country place, and to devote herself to her nieces, 
 who just then seemed specially to need her care. 
 
 In 1876 she went to reside for a time at Park- 
 stone, near Poole, Dorset. The Vicar, the Rev. 
 E. E. Dugmore, having been well known and much 
 loved by her, during his seven years' labour as 
 curate of S. Peter's, Vauxhall, gave the place a 
 special attraction to her. Short as was her resi- 
 dence, she found some spiritual work to do while 
 she remained there. * I loved and looked up to her 
 with all my heart,' writes the Vicar, ' and I have 
 reason to believe that in one case, her work here 
 was blessed, and has been permanent.' 
 
 Carnmenellis was, however, the goal of all her 
 wanderings, and there she finally settled till God 
 called her to her rest. 
 
 Not long after she was established in her old 
 cottage, came a blow which rent her very heart — 
 the death of her darling Lily, her youngest niece, 
 who had always been her special care. This little 
 life was bound up with hers by ties of most tender 
 affection. Mother Charlotte had rejoiced much at 
 a certain victory the child had gained over self, at
 
 30 Moti)tv Cljarlottt. 
 
 her Confirmation and first Communion ; and after- 
 wards she saw and blessed the hand of God in 
 preparing her for an early death, though none but 
 He fully knew the struggle it cost her to part with 
 her darling. The child was struck down by fever, 
 and day by day as it ran its course, the dear 
 Mother hoped the crisis had come, and that 
 favourable symptoms would set in. 
 
 She was unwearied in her intercessions, and 
 pleaded with God day and night, with strong 
 crying and tears, to spare to her the precious life. 
 Three days before the child died, Mother Charlotte 
 went into church, and made a solemn act of renun- 
 ciation of her own will in the matter, giving up her 
 darling entirely into God's hands. Yet hope lin- 
 gered, for she said afterwards to one of the Sisters, 
 * I offered her up to God, as we offer our Lord to 
 Him in the Blessed Sacrament, hoping it might be 
 His Will to give her back to me, as He gives us 
 back Jesus, to be the Food of our souls.' 
 
 Infinite Wisdom had otherwise ordained. On 
 February 7th, 1878, her little Lily was gathered 
 into the heavenly garden, and ever after, this joy 
 was added to Mother Charlotte's anticipations of 
 her own awakening in Paradise, — ' There I shall 
 meet my child again ! ' 
 
 Life at Tranquilla Cottage, was ordered as 
 nearly as could be on the model of her Sisters' 
 rule. She often expressed how helpful and how 
 blessed she felt the tie of union with her Commu-
 
 nity in prayer and sympathy, though separated 
 from them in bodily presence. ' It is such a com- 
 fort, even a short visit from a Sister,' she writes to 
 a friend. * I often wish this place were nearer [to 
 London], that I might have a Sister oftener.' 
 
 Mother Charlotte rose at 6.30 in Summer, and 
 at 7.30, as regularly as the hour came round, she 
 was to be seen wending her way to the Church. 
 There was no service at that hour, and she was 
 a solitary worshipper ; but the Church was to her 
 a spiritual home and place of refreshment, the 
 spot set apart for the worship of her God, where 
 she could best realise His nearness and His love. 
 There, morning after morning, she remained an 
 hour in sweet communion with Him Whom her 
 soul loved ; bowing down her whole being in 
 homage, pouring out her needs with child -like 
 confidence, and carrying back into her home the 
 promised result : ' Blessed are they that dwell in 
 Thine house ; they will be alway praising Thee.' 
 
 In the dark, cold winter mornings, she used to 
 carry a little lamp with her, and a hot-water bottle 
 for her feet, as without the latter, her limbs were 
 so cramped and cold she could not attend to her 
 prayers. At noon she went again to Church, and 
 stayed till one. 
 
 From 3 to 3.30 she spent in private devotion in 
 her own room, and at night she gathered all her 
 little household together for instruction and united 
 prayer. Yet, in following so strict a rule for her-
 
 32 iHotijcr Cijarlottr. 
 
 self, she was never selfishly absorbed, so as to forget 
 the tastes and needs of the young lives around her. 
 ' I don't want the girls to lose their modern lan- 
 guages,' she said, about this time, to a friend ; ' I 
 wish them to read French and German on alternate 
 days, so as to keep up their studies.' 
 
 No bodily infirmity was ever made an excuse 
 for the neglect of her religious duties. ' I never 
 knew her absent but once from a Celebration 
 during three years,' writes the Curate of the 
 parish. ' She used to say, she could not live 
 without that Sacred Food. Her realisation of the 
 Lord's Presence was very strong ; and most hearty 
 was the "Amen " which she used to say after the 
 words of administration were addressed to her. I 
 have often remonstrated with her about coming out 
 so early in the Winter mornings ; but, with tears in 
 her eyes she would say, " I must come, if I am 
 to live.'" 
 
 The reproach has sometimes been made, that 
 great carefulness about the growth of our own soul, 
 fosters a spirit of selfishness, and indifference to the 
 spiritual welfare of others. If this be true in any 
 case, it was certainly not so in that of Mother 
 Charlotte, for one might almost say, the master- 
 passion of her life, was a desire for souls to be 
 brought to the knowledge and love of her Lord. 
 
 One of her first cares at Carnmenellis was to 
 begin a Sunday School by the help of her nieces, 
 which by slow degrees, increased from seven
 
 IHotj^tr Ci^arlottt. 
 
 children to thirty-three. No pains were sj^ared to 
 make this school a pleasant and efficient agency 
 of instruction. She entered into all the details of 
 the children's marks, rewards, and certificates of 
 regular attendance, and delighted to organize a 
 pleasant summer excursion for them. Some of 
 the little miners owed their first view of the sea 
 to these happy occasions. 
 
 So far back as the lifetime of Mr. Broadley, she 
 had had a great desire to provide for the spiritual 
 w^ants of an outlying village called ' Four Lanes,' 
 and now she found herself again settled in the old 
 Parish, that desire revived, and at once took an 
 active form. There had been a room over a car- 
 penter's shop, in which services were formerly held, 
 now fallen into a .state of dilapidation. At the 
 advent of the new Curate, Mr. Murley, in 1874, he 
 had reported to her its deplorable condition, and 
 she said at once, ' Go over there to-morrow, and get 
 it made as decent as possible, and I will help 3'ou 
 to pay the cost.' This was done ; and his subse- 
 quent account of the first service held there, cheered 
 her greatly. 
 
 To provide permanently, spiritual ministrations 
 for this long-neglected place, became the ruling de- 
 sire of her life, the main object of her rigid and 
 self-denying economy, and the subject of her ardent 
 prayers and intercessions. Meanwhile, many a time 
 did she cheer the heart of the Curate in charge of 
 the district by her hopeful and animating counsels. 
 
 c
 
 34 iHotl^ei: Cl^avtotte. 
 
 * Try not to get disheartened with your work,' she 
 would say, ' but trust for power from on high, and 
 always have the " single eye " for God's glory, and 
 you will succeed.' 
 
 The aim she set before herself was, to get a 
 permanent Church and Clergyman's residence built 
 for Four Lanes. She knew too much of mission- 
 work experimentally, to be satisfied with providing 
 a mere preaching-room. * You will never be able 
 to teach the people reverence for God,' she said 
 to the Curate, ' until they have a Church suitable for 
 the worship of God.' And then she would add, * I 
 do hope I shall live to see that Church built and 
 consecrated ; I shall think then that my life's work 
 is done, and shall be able to say, ^^ Nunc Diinittis."' 
 
 Ardent desires beget persevering action ; and 
 so it was with her. Steadily the cross of self-denial 
 was impressed on every part of her daily life, that 
 she might have wherewith to give to her Master's 
 work. 
 
 She had been accustomed to go to the sea-side 
 in the Summer, and the doctors used to say this 
 was necessary for her and her family. ' But,' she 
 would answer, ' the Church is more necessary.' And 
 so the holidays were discontinued. She was very 
 fond of driving, and when she got too feeble to 
 walk much, it would have been a great comfort to 
 have had a pony-carriage ; but this was a luxury 
 her Church would not allow her to afford herself 
 
 Not an unnecessary shilling was spent. Shp
 
 {Botf^tv Cljarlottf. 35 
 
 lamented to the Bishop, that with all her care, she 
 could not live on less than 80/. a-year ; that a larger 
 balance of her income might be devoted to the 
 Church's needs. 
 
 This rigid economy was sanctified by ardent 
 spiritual aspirations. ' I met with a teaching the 
 other day,' she wrote to an old friend, ' on the three 
 H's — a Head to think of Jesus, a Heart to love 
 Him, and Hands to work for Him. ... I hav^e 
 been forced to dip rather deeply into capital, but I 
 do not regret it ; I so long to see souls brought in 
 and trained for Eternity.' The Bishop's approval 
 and encouragement were most precious to her ; his 
 sympathy had drawn out her affectionate nature 
 into a strong personal attachment. She prayed 
 daily for ' our good Bishop,' and constantly ex- 
 pressed in .letters, and to those around her, how 
 cheered she was by his kindness. 
 
 Yet, with all this energy and zeal for the pro- 
 gress of the good work, her shrinking from pub- 
 licit}-, praise, and personal congratulation, were so 
 great, that she kept a.\va.y from the Ceremony of 
 laying the foundation-stone of the Church at Four 
 Lanes, preferring to spend the time alone in Carn- 
 menellis Church, pleading with God for His blessing 
 on the undertaking. 
 
 Whilst the new Church was in building, the 
 curate, Mr. Murley, used to report to her almost 
 daily the progress of the growing walls. One day 
 he drove her down to see the work going on, a visit
 
 36 Motl)tv Cijavlottc. 
 
 which afforded her great deh'ght. She went into 
 several cottages, and spoke to the inmates, urging- 
 them to make a good use of the privileges they 
 were soon to enjoy. 
 
 In anticipation of the time when the Church 
 would be completed, she stirred up her friends to 
 make little offerings to it, especially for the Altar- 
 cloth and Frontals ; and her thanks for their sym- 
 pathy in her work, was beyond all proportion to 
 the help given. 
 
 ' I write to you,' she says to one friend, ' what 
 our good Bishop wrote to me : " Praise be to God, 
 Who has enabled His handmaiden to praise Him 
 thus, not only now, but for a great while to come." ' 
 
 It was impossible not to be interested in what 
 evidently so absorbed her mind and heart. She 
 impressed her own ardent desires upon others in 
 spite of themselves, and gained their prayers and 
 help. 
 
 ' I have just got a Font,' she writes, ' and all 
 things will soon, I trust, be in order. ... I am 
 busy now about surplices, and find that I can yet 
 use my needle. . . . The Bishop is to consecrate 
 on the 4th of April. Oh, may God's blessing rest 
 on the work ! What a joy it will be to me when 
 the Church is consecrated ! The Bishop has been 
 so kind, that it cheers one through.' 
 
 God gave her her heart's desire to see this work 
 accomplished, though she was not able to be pre- 
 sent at the Ceremony itself. Her own letter best
 
 fHotljcv Cljarlottf. 37 
 
 expresses what her feehngs were, at the blessed 
 fulfilment of these long-cherished hopes : — 
 
 ' I think you will be pleased to hear of all God's 
 goodness to me ; I am so very thankful. 'J'he offering 
 has been accepted, and the Church was Consecrated on 
 the 4th. I was not able to be present, but a messenger 
 was sent directly the service was over. There was no one 
 in the cottage with me, so I had a good burst of praise. 
 Oh, how glad I was, and am ! Thanks to the loving 
 Jielp I have had from yourself and other friends, every- 
 thing was in order. We made the Altar Frontals in the 
 house, and nearly all the Choir surplices. 
 
 'The Altar had its candlesticks, vases, and a good- 
 sized brass cross. I went to Four Lanes on Easter 
 Saturday for the decoration, and I was thankful that I 
 did not go on the 4th, as it was more than I could well 
 bear. 
 
 ' The thought of my darling Lily, her memorial window, 
 and the Church, altogether, moved me very deeply. The 
 Mission-room * looks well, and by measurement will seat 
 a hundred people. I know you will rejoice with me. 
 
 ' I had a line from the dear Father to say that he 
 would remember me at the festival, a joyous Easter. 
 
 ' Now for souls being gathered in I You will pray 
 for this blessing, my kind friend. I wish you were here 
 to start a Mothers' Meeting. ... I trust you are able 
 still to do work for the dear Lord. ^May you be blessed 
 in winning souls for Him ! . . .' 
 
 ' Yours in our Blessed Lord, 
 
 'Mother Charlotte.' 
 
 * This was a separate wooden room, which she built in 
 ihe Churchyard for Prayer-meetings, and religious gatherings.
 
 38 Moti)tv Cljavlottc. 
 
 It is very characteristic of Mother Charlotte's 
 extreme modesty and self-renunciation, that ' the 
 help of friends ' she here speaks of, could only have 
 amounted to a few pounds, and was as nothing 
 compared with her own munificent gift to the 
 building, to which she never alludes, or to the large 
 sum of 2300/. she gave for the endowment. 
 
 Her energy, which had been unfailing through 
 all the preparation for the opening of the new 
 Church of St. Andrew, Pencoys — for this was its 
 ecclesiastical title — began now seriously to flag. 
 
 In a postscript to the letter in which she de- 
 scribes her jo}' at its Consecration, there is this 
 significant warning : ' My old pain is so severe, that 
 I cannot write as I would — indeed, I can seldom 
 finish a letter without suffering ; but my time is 
 nearly over.' 
 
 The end had indeed begun, a long battle of 
 pain without, and conflict within — meet for the ser- 
 vant of a Master whose death-struggle on the cross 
 was marked by the cry of desolation, ' My God, My 
 God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?' 
 
 We do not expect the World to understand the 
 steps by which God purifies and prepares the faith- 
 ful soul for the vision of His glory; but it is strange 
 and saddening to find that even His children, are 
 offended at the temporary withdrawal of sensible 
 comfort in spiritual things, which so often happens 
 as the soul draws near the dark Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death. It is the rending away, as it
 
 Mot\)tv CJjavlottt. 
 
 were, of every lesser prop and tie, so that in 'naked 
 faith/ hearing nothing, seeing nothing, feehng no- 
 thing, she may cast herself in the darkness, by a 
 Will trained in the discipline of Grace, at His feet, 
 Whom she knows, by a deeper knowledge than that 
 of mere emotion, to be her ' Lord and her God.' 
 The human spirit loves the * Chariot of Fire ' and 
 the sensible passage into glory, better than the dere- 
 liction of Calvary ; but more deeply-taught souls 
 learn to recognise, that conviction of sin deepens 
 as we approach nearer to Him, before Whom the 
 beloved Apostle fell ' as one dead! 
 
 Dear Mother Charlotte's last sickness was 
 marked by severe spiritual conflict, by a with- 
 drawal of the joy and peace she had so continually 
 experienced in communion with her God, by fears 
 and perplexities, which, though in the end they all 
 faded away, and were replaced by the bliss of vision, 
 and the full flow of adoring love ; were none the 
 less a very severe trial to her while they lasted. 
 
 In the August of 1881 she went up to London 
 to consult a doctor about her failing health, and his 
 report was more favourable than she had expected 
 it to be. 
 
 During this visit she had the opportunity of 
 again using Sacramental Confession, which she 
 had not been able to do for a long period, though 
 her watchfulness in self-examination had never 
 been relaxed, as in a small Diary she kept of 
 spiritual matters, there is a regularly
 
 40 Ploti^er Cfjavlottr. 
 
 entry : * Made my Confession in church.' This 
 special Confession seems to have been particularly 
 helpful to her soul, for she thus expressed herself 
 in a letter after it : * The dear Father gave me 
 much comfort on Sunday, and we had a Cele- 
 bration in the Oratory on Wednesday. It was 
 strengthening.' 
 
 Though Dr. Mackenzie, at the close of her visit 
 to London, had pronounced her to be a little better, 
 yet she steadily kept the thought of her approaching 
 death in mind. * It is not death that I fear so 
 much,' she said in conversation to one of the Sisters, 
 ' as the passage of death.' This Sister had always 
 been very dear to her, and it was her particular 
 request that when the time came, she might be the 
 one to perform the last offices in preparing her 
 body for burial. 
 
 By December the disease had so far progressed 
 that she was confined entirely to her bed, only 
 getting up for a very short time. 
 
 She was tenderly nursed by her eldest niece, 
 Miss Burrowes, to whom she clung with almost 
 child-like confidence; and she constantly expressed 
 her feeling of gratitude at the kindness and atten- 
 tion of her medical adviser, Dr. Hudson. In spite 
 of her continual and protracted sufferings, she was 
 sweetly patient, and during the last week, when 
 torturing thirst caused her to cry out for 'Water ! 
 water r she checked herself, and said, ' How rude of 
 me to speak so impatiently! '
 
 fHotfjcr Ci^avlottt. 41 
 
 During the long weary weeks before the end 
 came, Miss Burrowes used often to bend ov^er her, 
 and repeat some of her fav^ourite passages from 
 Holy Scripture; and out of the struggle of anguish, 
 or the deadly languor of exhaustion, came the 
 soul's quick response to the Divine promises of 
 help and comfort : ' Dear Auntie, God will help 
 you!' * My dear, I know He will; and so He does.' 
 And again, when she whispered slowly, ' He will 
 never leave thee or forsake thee,' there came a 
 deeply impressive 'Never! never!' that stirred the 
 very soul of the listener by its reality. 
 
 Whatever clouds God had permitted to gather 
 round her spirit for the chastening and perfecting 
 of her faith, they were all dispelled before the end 
 came. On the day preceding her death, she told 
 Sister Ellen (the Sister she so dearly loved, and 
 who had been summoned by telegram), that she 
 had seen her Saviour in a vision, or dream, she 
 Icncw not which to call it, standing ' as close as this 
 is to that ' — touching two portions of her dress as 
 she said the words. And this blessed realisation of 
 His nearness, granted to her by Him Who loved 
 her, and gave Himself for her, was as the shining of 
 full sunlight into her soul, to strengthen and illumi- 
 nate it for that 'passage of death' which she had so 
 much dreaded. Now she asked simply, ' Shall I 
 soon be home ? the darkness is gone, and it is all 
 
 light:- 
 
 Her last articulate words, were a fit ending to a
 
 42 Moti)tv CJjarlottc. 
 
 life Avhich for years had been one prolonged act of 
 homage, ' My God ! my King ! ' 
 
 So passed the spirit from the outer court of the 
 Church on earth, to the worship of the Lamb in the 
 Sanctuary of Paradise. 
 
 They laid her body to rest — by the express per- 
 mission of the Bishop — in the chancel of Carn- 
 menellis Church, where her husband had been laid 
 twenty-seven years before. 
 
 Crosses and wreaths of lovely flowers — the 
 offerings of various friends and relatives — laid on 
 the plain oak coffin, expressed but in a small 
 measure, the strong affection she had awakened in 
 many hearts. There was the full tribute of tears as 
 the body was lowered into its last earthly resting- 
 place ; but the sorrow of those who knew and loved 
 her best, was swallowed up in the deep joy of heart, 
 that another true and brave servant of God had 
 ' fought the good fight,' and finished her course, 
 and ' through much tribulation ' had ' entered into 
 Rest; 
 
 From a little MS. book, in which Mother 
 Charlotte noted down special subjects for medita- 
 tion. Aims which she set before herself at different 
 periods of her life, and Rules for the government of 
 that inner life which was ' hid with Christ in God ;* 
 we may obtain glimpses of the two great motives 
 at work in her soul, which have ever been the most 
 powerful factors in the formation of Christian
 
 i^oti)tv charlotte. 43 
 
 character, find it in what age or chme we will ; i.e. 
 An abiding Penitence ; a hunger and thirst after 
 Righteousness. 
 
 There is a Diary, entirely of spiritual matters, 
 which she kept regularly for many years, and in it 
 one desire, expressed in exactly the same words, 
 recurs again and again. It is this : That God 
 would grant her ' a life-giving sorrow! It is not 
 a conventional or common-place expression, used 
 without much meaning, but the grasp of a great 
 truth by a soul deeply taught of God, in long hours 
 of Prayer, Meditation, and Self-examination. A 
 testimony, that Self-knowledge and Divine know- 
 ledge had gone hand - in - hand, and grown and 
 deepened together. 'A life-giving sorroivf Yes, 
 ' sorroiv ;' for it is not true that the inner life, 
 though quickened into Joy and Peace by the gift of 
 Pardon through the Precious Blood, is one chorus 
 of triumphs, one glowing passage to glory. The 
 contemplation of God, destroys self-satisfaction, and 
 the deepening sense of the gulf there is between 
 the aim, and the performance of one's life, the 
 Possible and the Actual, must fill the spirit with 
 compunction. ' Sorrow,' not working death, not 
 leading to depression, or gloom, or despair, but 
 'life-giving.' That sense of sin, which quickens love 
 to the Sin-Bearer ; that knowledge of self, which 
 drives the soul to the *Rock which is higher than I ;' 
 that mistrust of our own powers, which compels us 
 to trust in God ; that deeper estimate of sin, which
 
 44 P[ot!)tr Ci)aiIottt. 
 
 sees in it not personal loss merely, but the wounding 
 of God's Honour and the waste of His Love. 
 
 In the same Diary is written out a rule for her 
 daily life, as follows : — 
 
 ^Spiritual communion^ 7. Intercession. 
 
 Prime, 8. 
 
 Psalms, and Lessons, and Terce, 9. 
 
 Sext, and Bible-reading in Church, if possible. 
 
 Spiritual reading two hours every day. 
 
 Psalms, and Lessons, and Vespers after tea. 
 
 Compline, 9 o'clock or 9.30. 
 
 Longer in bedroom, prayer and self-examination. 
 
 Speak to two souls daily.' 
 
 The following extracts need no comment : — 
 
 ' I resolve to use every means that God shows me to 
 •obtain a mortified spirit.' 
 
 ' Oh that all my nature were turned into love ! 
 Nature will resist Nature in dealing with souls; they 
 will not yield to what is no better than themselves. It 
 must be Christ manifested in and by us that can touch the 
 unconverted heart. The smallest thought of unkindness, 
 the least disregard to the feelings of others, will cause the 
 Lord's Presence to retire.' 
 
 ' Satan succeeded in the ease and comfort of Eden, 
 but was foiled in the wilderness.' 
 
 If I am not in His ground I cannot grow.'
 
 Motf)n CfjarTottr. 45 
 
 ' Oh for that Fire to be kindled in my soul, that wij 
 burn up all the clothing of sin ! ' 
 
 ' I need the Spirit of Counsel that I may know the fit 
 remedy for the salvation of my own soul, and those of 
 others over whom I may have any influence ; the Spirit 
 of Understanding in the hidden meaning of Scripture, 
 that I may speak to others.' 
 
 ' May my earthly nature tremble, my stony heart be 
 broken, the sealed sepulchre of shame and sin be opened 
 by confession, the veil be rent which separates between 
 God and my soul, that, with a live coal from the altar, I 
 may be filled with prayer.' 
 
 ' Lord, I would desire not to move hand or foot with- 
 out Thy permission. Oh ! help me to be truly Thine in 
 ever}' act, as I am Thine by the Blood of my Redeemer.'^ 
 
 ( a 
 
 It is finished 1 "' Oh I that sin were finished /;/ me, 
 as well as /or me: but it is a lingering death.' 
 
 ' Lord, let me learn humility at any cost. My God, 
 help me to be 7'ea/, and to love with Thy love.' 
 
 'Christ is with me in all my humiliations and suf- 
 ferings. May I be able to bear them, not with sickly 
 romance (sentiment?), seeking human sympathy, but 
 really and truly in secret with Jesus.'
 
 46 Ploti^er Ci^avlotte. 
 
 ' Oh ! may I never cease to do good to my neighbour, 
 though I receive ingratitude.' 
 
 * Mary did " what she could." Lord, help me ! 
 O Lord, help me to be kind to everybody. Our only 
 earthly happiness is to make others happy.' 
 
 'Oh, my Lord, that I could fully realise Thy coming! 
 Yea, in every trouble Thou comest, meek and lowly, 
 guiding and governing the animal nature, as Thou 
 •camest to Jerusalem on the colt.' 
 
 ' May I see to-day what I ought to do, and then have 
 srace to do it.' 
 
 ' Look for no reward from any one. Christ got 
 grievous torments from men in return for the good He 
 'did them. I have asked to be made like Christ.' 
 
 ' Our Lord sent Peter and John to prepare the Pass- 
 over: faith and love, prudence and obedience. O Lord, 
 wilt Thou come into my heart, and keep the Paschal 
 Supper there ? ' 
 
 ' May the contemplation of the Cross enable me to 
 "bear all that is needful for me, as the gift from a Father's 
 love.'
 
 iJHotljn- Cfjarlottt. 47 
 
 No more fitting- comment can be made on the 
 self-sacrifice of Mother Charlotte's offering to the 
 Church's work in Cornwall, and the blessing that 
 God at once poured down upon it ; than by quoting 
 a passage from the published sermon of the Bishop 
 of Truro, preached in St. Paul's Cathedral, in May 
 1 88 1, little more than a month after the Conse- 
 cration of S. Andrew's, Pencoys : — 
 
 ' I know a wild hamlet which had such a fame, that 
 letters were written urging that any intended efforts made, 
 should be transferred to ground which gave at least some 
 promise. 
 
 ' For several years, the same zealous labourer as now, 
 had toiled there. The loft over the Wheelwright and 
 Blacksmith's shop was his Church, and was the very 
 exemplification of having " no more brick and mortar " 
 than was enough. And it remained enough. A few old 
 people, sick of sinning, and a few little girls, mainly 
 represented the Church of Christ — Avithout Confirmation 
 and without the Eucharist. 
 
 ' By the self-denial — the extreme self-denial — of a 
 widow, and some little help beside, a little Church has 
 been built and now opened a few months. She was 
 urged to make a smaller, a plainer, a ruder, "a sufficient" 
 Mission-Room. For she was living on half her little 
 income for its sake. But no ; it should be a Church ; it 
 should have all that marked a Church — and it should have 
 all in beauty within and without — even stained glass, that 
 should mutely preach Christ's Atonement, whatever else 
 should be preached or sung there. And it came to pass. 
 And what has been the effect? Why, the harbour basin 
 being dug, and the flood-gates opened, the sea ran into it.
 
 48 JMotJ^ev Ci^arlottt. 
 
 ' The self-same Minister does the self- same work ; 
 but his Morning Congregation is of ninety people already, 
 and among them between twenty and thirty young fellows, 
 who, until this Mission-Church was built, never spent 
 Sunday morning except in their working clothes, sitting 
 on the stone hedges. At evening the Church is full. 
 There is a Choir of eight men and ten boys, a Sunday- 
 School of seventy children, a week-day service fairly 
 attended, a Young Men's Bible Class, a Woman's Bible 
 Class ; and at the Children's service, after noon, parents 
 flock in to learn, by listening to their children, about 
 the Divine things and Persons, which before were scarcely 
 names to them.' 
 
 Laus Deo. 
 
 E. LoNGHUKST, i83 Upper Kennington Lane, S.E.
 
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