CHAPTER XI.Letters.

Whatever distinctions may prevail in the various sections among Protestants, we surely all agree in this, that we are looking for salvation simply and entirely through the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

Compared withthis, the points on which we differ are few and unimportant, affecting principally what we may call our outside life—belonging to the “wood, hay, stubble” that attaches to the present imperfect state of things, and, if not at last burnt with fire, will, at least, be lost sight of, when, instead of seeing through a glass darkly, the mind grasps the astonishing and overwhelming meaning of beingsaved to the uttermost.

A voice from the enemy’s camp has reached us, that their great hopes of success rest upon the disunion amongst the ranks of Protestants.  God grant that these hopes may be disappointed!  In times of national calamity, when homes and hearths are threatened by the invasion of a foreign foe, the people are exhorted to let no private consideration, no respect forindividual property,nothing, in fact, prevent their rising as with the heart of one man, to fight manfully for the defence of their king and their country.  Let us, it would be said, only expel this common foe, and mere personal matters can be arranged afterwards.

And now that the foe is bearing down with such a threatening aspect upon the interests of our Master’s kingdom, is it still to be said—“The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light?”  Is it too much to expect that we should work for Him, whodiedfor us?

“Speak kindly, speak kindly; ye know not the powerOf a soft and gentle word,As its tones, in a sad and troubled hour,By the weary heart are heard.Ye know not how often it comes to blessThe stranger amid his weariness;How many a blessing is round thee thrownBy the magic spell of a soft low tone.Speak kindly, then, kindly; there’s nothing lostBy gentle words—to the heart and earOf the sad and lonely they’re dear, how dear!—And they nothing cost.”Webster.

“Speak kindly, speak kindly; ye know not the powerOf a soft and gentle word,As its tones, in a sad and troubled hour,By the weary heart are heard.Ye know not how often it comes to blessThe stranger amid his weariness;How many a blessing is round thee thrownBy the magic spell of a soft low tone.Speak kindly, then, kindly; there’s nothing lostBy gentle words—to the heart and earOf the sad and lonely they’re dear, how dear!—And they nothing cost.”

Webster.

Howeverdesirous any President of a Mothers’ Society may be of being constantly at her post, it must be obvious to all that occasional absence cannot be avoided.  No assumed duties, however important, must for a moment supersede the first claims of home and kindred.  Some have thought that the one must necessarily interfere with the other, and, consequently, both ought not to be attempted; but experience proves that the faculties, from daily use, become rather brightened than worn, and can accomplish more than when merely called up on especial occasions.  The “much” will be entrusted to those who are faithful in that which is least, and not to those who stand all the day idle.  The Master for whom we work does not employ us as the Egyptians did the Israelites, demanding the tale of bricks, and yet saying—“Let them go and gather straw for themselves.”

We acknowledge the hand of God perhaps less in the supply of our mental, than in either our temporal or spiritual, wants, and this often makes us unwilling to attempt work to which, in the prospect, we feel ourselvesunequal.  Who does not know the fear and trembling with which new undertakings are usually commenced; like Mary going to the sepulchre, we think only of the stone at the entrance, and say, Who shall roll it away?

I once heard a lady say that, to accommodate a friend, she had promised to undertake the management of a Bible class for a few weeks; but as the time for its commencement drew on, she found herself so completely unnerved by her anxious fears and distrust of herself, that she was obliged to send a message to say she could not possibly meet the class.  She has since learnt a different kind of preparation; and were she again placed in similar circumstances, she would go, as we all must, like Solomon, to the fountain of wisdom, and say—“I am but a little child: I know not how to go out or come in.  Give therefore thy servant an understanding heart.”

It is not necessary to have confidence in ourselves before we begin important work, especially work through which we hope to influence others; but the poor mind, conscious of innumerable weaknesses and defects, must stay itself somewhere; it cannot carry its burden alone without fainting under the load.  Our heavenly Father knows this, and says to us—“Do not try to carry it.  Cast thy burden upon me; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.”  How well that it should be so!  This at once places both us and our work in the right position—glorify me, not ourselves.  We do not praise the tool that has chiseledout the beautiful sculpture, but the hand that has wielded and directed that instrument.

I remember one evening, when entering the room where our meeting was held, feeling immediately conscious that something not quite pleasant was going on there.  One of our members, a fine tall woman, was standing at the work-table, with her great baby, about six months old, in her arms.  She was speaking in a loud angry tone, and as I approached the table I heard her say, “It’s of no use, it’ll never fit my baby; and so I tell ye I shan’t have it.”  The lady, who that evening kindly superintended the cutting-out of the work, appealed to me, and said that the dimensions of the article had really been carefully attended to, and was the same in every respect as those generally received by the mothers with great satisfaction, I saw directly that this case differed from most contests, where both parties are usually wrong, for here both were right; the uncommon size of the baby accounted for it all.  So turning to it I said, “Ah! baby, I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself to be so big, and thus to cause such a disturbance here; there’s no getting anything to fit you.”  Then I said to the mother, “You should have observed that this article you have rejected is the usual size; but if you will let your baby be as big at six months as he ought to be at twelve, you must just take the consequences.  I will give you some material that you must cut out for yourself, and try to fit your great boy if you can.”  The baby crowed and laughed, and seemed delighted at being such an object of attention;the mother caught the infection, and laughed too, acknowledged her mistake, apologised to the lady, and walked off to her seat, by no means displeased at being convicted of having one of the finest babies in the world.

A friend of mine happened to be there that evening who was wishing to establish a similar society in her own neighbourhood, and had come to look on upon us.  As we were walking home together she said, “I see how it is you are so successful, you have so much tact.  I wonder how you can meet all these cases as they turn up.”  I replied, “I should wonder very much if I could not.  I never go there without asking direction from Him who is ‘the giver of every good and perfect gift;’ and He who has said, ‘Ask and ye shall receive,’ simply keeps His promise, and gives me the wisdom I petition for.  Whatever difficulties arise, I remember that the Lord God of Elijah, of Solomon, and of David, is my God, and He is as willing to make me wise to govern a society, as He was them to govern kingdoms.”

In stepping aside for an instant just to shew that, with this help, within the reach of all, we may become wise enough to do something for our poor neighbours, and yet in no way be unmindful of our domestic claims, I have wandered away from my starting point, which referred to the necessity of occasional absence from home.

The influence I have obtained over some of these poor people, and the respect and affection with which they have so abundantly rewarded any little kindness theymay have received, I regard in the light of a sacred trust, for which I am accountable, and which I am under no circumstances at liberty to set on one side, and treat as though it did not exist.  During these seasons of absence, therefore, by way of keeping up my acquaintance, I frequently address to some of them little friendly notes, generally expressing an interest in some passing event with which they may be connected, or perhaps simply a few words of sympathy to some poor sufferer “stricken of God and afflicted.”  The poor are quite aware that this is a kind of attention that one lady might shew to another, and there are few things they appreciate so highly.  A note that has perhaps scarcely taken ten minutes to write, and whose only cost has been the paper, envelope, and stamp, has won many a heart, and cleared the way for further improvement.

But it will be obvious that, in a society numbering now ninety members, it is not possible to give this individual attention to all.  That none may feel themselves forgotten and neglected, I usually send one letter addressed to all the members.  The two following have been selected as referring to subjects of general interest.

Copy of a Letter addressed to the Members of the Mothers’ Society,during a few weeks’ absence from home.

“4,Nelson Crescent,Ramsgate,April16, 1854.“My dear Friends,—“It gives me much pleasure to have this opportunity of continuing my intercourse with you.  I should have written to you earlier, if I had not been so very much occupied in various ways.“There are few days in which I do not think of you, and on this day especially (Wednesday, the usual day of our meeting) I never forget to spend part of the evening in earnest prayer to God, that He would bless you, and make you great blessings to all with whom you are connected.  I feel that your influence is so great, either for good or evil, that, in blessing and teaching you, God will be bestowing a rich blessing upon very many others.“We have so often spoken together, on the importance of our influence over our children, that I do not just now intend dwelling upon that.  There is another view of this subject which has often been present to my mind of late, and I should like to try to interest you in it; I mean, the influence for good which God designs our children should have over us.“During the time I resided in Bath, I met with a circumstance which much impressed my mind with this view of the subject; and I was glad, on lookinginto my desk, the other day, to find I had kept an account of it, as I am thus able to give it to you more correctly.“I think I have told you, I used to manage a Female Friendly Society in Bath, that is, a society where a number of poor women pay in so much a week, to have out a certain sum when they are ill.  The rule was, that when they required this money they sent me a certificate, signed by a doctor, stating that they were ill; and as long as the illness continued, they sent to me every week for the money, each time producing lie certificate.  We used to meet once a fortnight, to pay in money, settle accounts, &c.  At one of these meetings, I said to a young woman—“‘I see, Esther, you have had money from this society four weeks.’  She said—“‘Not four, ma’am,—only three.’”“I looked carefully over my accounts, and found that money had really been paid to her name for four weeks.  After much inquiry and investigation, we found that Esther’s mother, a wicked and abandoned woman, had, by some means, obtained the certificate, presented it; and had appropriated the money to her own purposes.  As soon as this was quite ascertained, I declared my intention of calling upon the woman, and talking to her about it.  All of them who knew her tried to dissuade me from this, assuring me that she was such a dreadful character that I should hardly be safe from personal violence.  However, as such a thing could not be allowed to pass unnoticed, I felt itwas right to go; and after earnest prayer to God for a wise and understanding heart, I set out.“It was with much difficulty I found her out: she lived in one of those deplorable places to be met with in all great cities, where the workers of iniquity seek to hide themselves.  At last, I was directed to a little room at the back of a very dirty old iron-shop.  On entering, I saw a very large woman standing in the room, her arms resting on her hips, her red face and bloodshot eyes telling their own sad tale.  She did not speak, but stared at me with the bold look of defiance.  I said—“‘I think your name is Alice R—?’  She replied—“‘I should like to know what the likes of you have to do with the likes of me?’  I said—“‘You have a daughter, I believe, named Esther?’“‘I wonder what business that is of yours?’ she rejoined, with a terrible oath, and clenching her fist.  I said—“‘Just now, thatisbusiness of mine.’  Then taking a seat, dirty as it was, by way of assuring her I was not going to be frightened from her presence, I looked steadily at her, and said quietly—‘Alice, if you had trusted me with your money to keep for you for a certain purpose, and, when you applied to me for it, you found it had been used by others, in ways never intended, what would you say to me?’“‘Why, say you ought to look sharper after it, to be sure,’ she replied.“I then explained what was the object of my comingto her.  She did not attempt to deny what she had done; but said it was very well for the likes of me, who never knew the want of anything, to come and preach to poor folks about honesty.  But still, though she kept up this kind of bravado, I saw that, as we talked on, she softened a little.  I looked round the dark, dirty room, and said—“‘Alice, this room is very dark, and perhaps you think what passes in it is little noticed; but, indeed, there is a day coming, when everything that has been done or said, or even thought here, will be brought to light, and you will have to give an account to God for it all.’“She clasped her hands together, and said—“‘Then that will be a dreadful day to me.  I was born and brought up in the midst of curses and blows; and I have grown up to give curses and blows.  You think it is quiet enough here now; but come here an hour or two later, and you would see what you never saw before.  Why, bless you, I don’t think no more of knocking a man down, than I should of knocking that ere candlestick off the table;’ and as she suited ‘the action to the word,’ and raised her powerful arm, I could well believe this to be true.  I said—“‘But surely you did not bring up your child in such a place as this?’  For I remembered that Esther was gentle and modest—the very reverse of her mother.“‘No, indeed, I did not,’ she replied.  ‘When she was too little to leave me, I kept her out of the way as much as I could; and when she got older, I spentevery penny I could get to paythemfor taking care of her, as knew the way to do it; and now I never let her come here, though I often go to see after her.’“‘But why,’ I said, ‘did you not, for her sake, try to alter your home?  Why did you not, then, give up your wicked companions, and bring her up yourself in a way you knew to be right?’“‘Ah!’ she replied, ‘you are a lady, and don’t know nothing about such people as me.  I have heardGodis powerful, but I knowSatanis; and we wicked people can’t get away from one another, as you think we can.’  I said—“‘Just now, when you were telling me about your early life, I was thinking you scarcely seemed to have had a chance of being better than you are; but I see now that God has not forgotten you.  That little child was sent to awaken the voice of conscience and love in you; and if you had only listened to it, you might have saved yourself, as well as your child.’“‘As we talked in this way; she wept very much; but said, that it was all now too late,—that God was her enemy, and there was no mercy for her.  I said—“‘Alice, you keep this window so duty, that the light can scarcely enter; and you never seem to open it, so that the air of this room is almost stifling.  But for all that, thereisbright sunshine and pure air, if you would let them come in: and God intended them for you as much as for me.  And in the same way you surround yourself with what is wicked, and must ofnecessity produce misery, and then complain that God has no mercy upon you.’“I asked her if she had ever heard of Jesus, who was so sorry for the misery of such unhappy persons as herself, that He came into the world on purpose to save them..  She said she had; but she knew He did not mean her.  When I rose to go she said—“‘It seems to me, that yours must be the first kind voice I have ever heard; but I shall never hear it again—no never; for you must not come here—indeed you must not: this is no place for the likes of you.’“‘Then, why,’ I said, ‘do you not determine to get such a home for yourself as I could come to?’  But she shook her head and said—“‘Ah! you don’t know nothing;’ and so we parted.“I dare say the thought will strike you, as it did me, when I was afterwards thinking over what had passed between us, what a wonderful influence for good this little child was intended to have over the poor mother!  It seemed to awaken in her a better nature than she had ever known before; it was, as the Bible expresses it, her ‘day of visitation;’ and if she had only permitted herself to come entirely under its influence, she might have been saved for both time and eternity.  In her earnest endeavours to instruct her child in what was true and right, she would have found it out for herself, and, instead of being the poor fallen creature I found her, she might have become a useful and valuable member of society.“God has wisely and kindly implanted in our minds such a feeling towards our children, that we value and strive to obtain what is good, more for their sakes than for our own: and we should feel thankful for this; forwhatevermakes us hate sin, and love holiness, is a great blessing.“If we, my dear friends, truly and faithfully do our duty to our children, we shall have no time for bad company, bad books, idle gossip, or any other of those many temptations which ‘Satan finds for idle hands to do.’“Let us be thankful, then, for an honourable and useful occupation; and let it cheer us in the midst of employment, sometimes wearisome and painful, to think that, by exercising a right and holy influence over our children, we may be preparing them for usefulness on earth, and an eternity of happiness hereafter.“I know that some of you have to experience great suffering; that the toil of your lives is excessive.  I know of nothing that can tend so much to reconcile you to all this, as to remember that, whatever your lot may be, it is of God’s appointment; that He has wise ends to answer by it; and in another world, if not in this, you will know that the course you have had to take was the best for you.“There is much that is dark and mysterious in the present state of things: it is useless to attempt to explain it away, neither do I think we are called upon to do so.  The only state of mind, suitable to our present condition, is entire submission to the will and appointmentof our heavenly Father.  We musttrustnow; we shallknowhereafter.“When we are tempted, by the trials of our lot, to think hard thoughts of Him who has appointed it, let us remember—‘He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things.’“I have written this amidst many interruptions; but I know you will believe me when I say, I have earnestly desired to say something to comfort and strengthen you for your daily trials.  May God bless you, my dear friends; may we have many more pleasant meetings here; and when the battle of life is over, may we all meet in that world where sin and sorrow can never enter.“I am,“Your sincere friend.”

“4,Nelson Crescent,Ramsgate,April16, 1854.

“My dear Friends,—

“It gives me much pleasure to have this opportunity of continuing my intercourse with you.  I should have written to you earlier, if I had not been so very much occupied in various ways.

“There are few days in which I do not think of you, and on this day especially (Wednesday, the usual day of our meeting) I never forget to spend part of the evening in earnest prayer to God, that He would bless you, and make you great blessings to all with whom you are connected.  I feel that your influence is so great, either for good or evil, that, in blessing and teaching you, God will be bestowing a rich blessing upon very many others.

“We have so often spoken together, on the importance of our influence over our children, that I do not just now intend dwelling upon that.  There is another view of this subject which has often been present to my mind of late, and I should like to try to interest you in it; I mean, the influence for good which God designs our children should have over us.

“During the time I resided in Bath, I met with a circumstance which much impressed my mind with this view of the subject; and I was glad, on lookinginto my desk, the other day, to find I had kept an account of it, as I am thus able to give it to you more correctly.

“I think I have told you, I used to manage a Female Friendly Society in Bath, that is, a society where a number of poor women pay in so much a week, to have out a certain sum when they are ill.  The rule was, that when they required this money they sent me a certificate, signed by a doctor, stating that they were ill; and as long as the illness continued, they sent to me every week for the money, each time producing lie certificate.  We used to meet once a fortnight, to pay in money, settle accounts, &c.  At one of these meetings, I said to a young woman—

“‘I see, Esther, you have had money from this society four weeks.’  She said—

“‘Not four, ma’am,—only three.’”

“I looked carefully over my accounts, and found that money had really been paid to her name for four weeks.  After much inquiry and investigation, we found that Esther’s mother, a wicked and abandoned woman, had, by some means, obtained the certificate, presented it; and had appropriated the money to her own purposes.  As soon as this was quite ascertained, I declared my intention of calling upon the woman, and talking to her about it.  All of them who knew her tried to dissuade me from this, assuring me that she was such a dreadful character that I should hardly be safe from personal violence.  However, as such a thing could not be allowed to pass unnoticed, I felt itwas right to go; and after earnest prayer to God for a wise and understanding heart, I set out.

“It was with much difficulty I found her out: she lived in one of those deplorable places to be met with in all great cities, where the workers of iniquity seek to hide themselves.  At last, I was directed to a little room at the back of a very dirty old iron-shop.  On entering, I saw a very large woman standing in the room, her arms resting on her hips, her red face and bloodshot eyes telling their own sad tale.  She did not speak, but stared at me with the bold look of defiance.  I said—

“‘I think your name is Alice R—?’  She replied—

“‘I should like to know what the likes of you have to do with the likes of me?’  I said—

“‘You have a daughter, I believe, named Esther?’

“‘I wonder what business that is of yours?’ she rejoined, with a terrible oath, and clenching her fist.  I said—

“‘Just now, thatisbusiness of mine.’  Then taking a seat, dirty as it was, by way of assuring her I was not going to be frightened from her presence, I looked steadily at her, and said quietly—‘Alice, if you had trusted me with your money to keep for you for a certain purpose, and, when you applied to me for it, you found it had been used by others, in ways never intended, what would you say to me?’

“‘Why, say you ought to look sharper after it, to be sure,’ she replied.

“I then explained what was the object of my comingto her.  She did not attempt to deny what she had done; but said it was very well for the likes of me, who never knew the want of anything, to come and preach to poor folks about honesty.  But still, though she kept up this kind of bravado, I saw that, as we talked on, she softened a little.  I looked round the dark, dirty room, and said—

“‘Alice, this room is very dark, and perhaps you think what passes in it is little noticed; but, indeed, there is a day coming, when everything that has been done or said, or even thought here, will be brought to light, and you will have to give an account to God for it all.’

“She clasped her hands together, and said—

“‘Then that will be a dreadful day to me.  I was born and brought up in the midst of curses and blows; and I have grown up to give curses and blows.  You think it is quiet enough here now; but come here an hour or two later, and you would see what you never saw before.  Why, bless you, I don’t think no more of knocking a man down, than I should of knocking that ere candlestick off the table;’ and as she suited ‘the action to the word,’ and raised her powerful arm, I could well believe this to be true.  I said—

“‘But surely you did not bring up your child in such a place as this?’  For I remembered that Esther was gentle and modest—the very reverse of her mother.

“‘No, indeed, I did not,’ she replied.  ‘When she was too little to leave me, I kept her out of the way as much as I could; and when she got older, I spentevery penny I could get to paythemfor taking care of her, as knew the way to do it; and now I never let her come here, though I often go to see after her.’

“‘But why,’ I said, ‘did you not, for her sake, try to alter your home?  Why did you not, then, give up your wicked companions, and bring her up yourself in a way you knew to be right?’

“‘Ah!’ she replied, ‘you are a lady, and don’t know nothing about such people as me.  I have heardGodis powerful, but I knowSatanis; and we wicked people can’t get away from one another, as you think we can.’  I said—

“‘Just now, when you were telling me about your early life, I was thinking you scarcely seemed to have had a chance of being better than you are; but I see now that God has not forgotten you.  That little child was sent to awaken the voice of conscience and love in you; and if you had only listened to it, you might have saved yourself, as well as your child.’

“‘As we talked in this way; she wept very much; but said, that it was all now too late,—that God was her enemy, and there was no mercy for her.  I said—

“‘Alice, you keep this window so duty, that the light can scarcely enter; and you never seem to open it, so that the air of this room is almost stifling.  But for all that, thereisbright sunshine and pure air, if you would let them come in: and God intended them for you as much as for me.  And in the same way you surround yourself with what is wicked, and must ofnecessity produce misery, and then complain that God has no mercy upon you.’

“I asked her if she had ever heard of Jesus, who was so sorry for the misery of such unhappy persons as herself, that He came into the world on purpose to save them..  She said she had; but she knew He did not mean her.  When I rose to go she said—

“‘It seems to me, that yours must be the first kind voice I have ever heard; but I shall never hear it again—no never; for you must not come here—indeed you must not: this is no place for the likes of you.’

“‘Then, why,’ I said, ‘do you not determine to get such a home for yourself as I could come to?’  But she shook her head and said—

“‘Ah! you don’t know nothing;’ and so we parted.

“I dare say the thought will strike you, as it did me, when I was afterwards thinking over what had passed between us, what a wonderful influence for good this little child was intended to have over the poor mother!  It seemed to awaken in her a better nature than she had ever known before; it was, as the Bible expresses it, her ‘day of visitation;’ and if she had only permitted herself to come entirely under its influence, she might have been saved for both time and eternity.  In her earnest endeavours to instruct her child in what was true and right, she would have found it out for herself, and, instead of being the poor fallen creature I found her, she might have become a useful and valuable member of society.

“God has wisely and kindly implanted in our minds such a feeling towards our children, that we value and strive to obtain what is good, more for their sakes than for our own: and we should feel thankful for this; forwhatevermakes us hate sin, and love holiness, is a great blessing.

“If we, my dear friends, truly and faithfully do our duty to our children, we shall have no time for bad company, bad books, idle gossip, or any other of those many temptations which ‘Satan finds for idle hands to do.’

“Let us be thankful, then, for an honourable and useful occupation; and let it cheer us in the midst of employment, sometimes wearisome and painful, to think that, by exercising a right and holy influence over our children, we may be preparing them for usefulness on earth, and an eternity of happiness hereafter.

“I know that some of you have to experience great suffering; that the toil of your lives is excessive.  I know of nothing that can tend so much to reconcile you to all this, as to remember that, whatever your lot may be, it is of God’s appointment; that He has wise ends to answer by it; and in another world, if not in this, you will know that the course you have had to take was the best for you.

“There is much that is dark and mysterious in the present state of things: it is useless to attempt to explain it away, neither do I think we are called upon to do so.  The only state of mind, suitable to our present condition, is entire submission to the will and appointmentof our heavenly Father.  We musttrustnow; we shallknowhereafter.

“When we are tempted, by the trials of our lot, to think hard thoughts of Him who has appointed it, let us remember—‘He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things.’

“I have written this amidst many interruptions; but I know you will believe me when I say, I have earnestly desired to say something to comfort and strengthen you for your daily trials.  May God bless you, my dear friends; may we have many more pleasant meetings here; and when the battle of life is over, may we all meet in that world where sin and sorrow can never enter.

“I am,

“Your sincere friend.”

Copy of a Letter written during an absence of some months,in consequence of illness.

“Bath,November6, 1855.“My dear Friends,—“I am truly sorry to be obliged to be absent from you so long.  It has always given me much pleasure to meet you at our weekly meetings, and I now miss them very much.  I shall be indeed thankful when it pleases God to restore me to health, and enable me to resume my usual place among you.“I have thought much and often, during my long illness, how entirely we are dependent upon God for every power we possess, both of mind and body.  We can work only by His permission.  In a moment, if He sees fit, He can withdraw from us all our powers; and we are perfectly helpless until it pleases Him to restore them to us.  To those who really love God, and are His children, it is a delightful thought that He controls everything.  It is the happiest thing in the world to know, that a wisdom which cannot err, and a love which cannot fail, are conducting us through the journey of life, instead of our own erring judgment.  I wish we could allfeelthis, as well as know it.  It is God’s great gift that He is willing to bestow upon us all, if we constantly and earnestly seek it from Him.  The highest earthly station, and all that wealth can purchase, will bring no happiness compared with having our wills made one with God’s will.  If you obtain this, my dear friends, poor as some of you are, you might be objects of envy to many of the great ones of the earth, who are wearied in the greatness of their way, not having yet learned the great lesson of submission.“There is much, just now, which makes us fear we are entering upon a winter of peculiar trial and difficulty.  The high prices of provisions must occasion many of you great anxiety; and much care and economy will, I am sure, be required to make you at all comfortable.  Thoughalldepartures from God’s law must be followed by suffering, it seemsthatwar—which cannot be engaged in without breaking most of the commandments of God, and setting aside entirely the precepts of love and forgiveness of injuries—must be attended with great suffering to any nation that engages in it.  God, who made the world, knows exactly by what laws it ought to be governed; and we cannot set aside those laws, without bringing great sorrow upon ourselves.“We shall all, I fear, have much to suffer from the present war; and I truly grieve that such a considerable share of this suffering must be borne by the poor.  We must learn from it this great lesson, that it is an evil and a bitter thing to depart from God; and let it be an inducement to instil more carefully than ever into the minds of our children principles of love and kindness, teaching them, especially, to forgive injuries, as Jesus did, instead of revenging them, which He told us not to do.  Thus, when they grow up to have their influence as men and women, and to form a part of the great nation, they may in every way promote ‘peace on earth, and good-will towards men.’  I trust that He who hears the young ravens when they cry, and feedeth them, will, at this trying season, provide food for you and your children.  For nothing is too hard for the Lord; and those among you, who really love and trust God, may derive the greatest consolation from the beautiful promise—‘None of them that trust in me shall be desolate.’“I was reading, a little while ago, about a youngwoman who was early in life deprived by death of her nearest relations, and whose lot was to live with people who were extremely unkind, indeed even cruel, to her.  She was a very amiable person, and pleasing in appearance.  A gentleman, in a higher station of life than her own, was informed of her history; and, after a short acquaintance, made her an offer of marriage.  The persons with whom she lived, instead of being glad at the prospect of such an improvement in her circumstances, were only the more exasperated against her; and, having the power, they refused to give her up until she was of age; and endeavoured to make her more unhappy than ever.  A friend once remarked to her, that he wondered how she could bear such treatment.  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I hardly feel it; it is to last so short a time!  I only think of myself as the future wife of that kind gentleman.’“I thought directly, that this was just the spirit in which we should pass through life.  We should then be brave of heart, and not disheartened at our difficulties.  It is, indeed, a wonderful thought that the poorest and meanest being who toils upon the earth may be heir to a state of happiness and glory too great for description; as it is said—‘Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.’“But though it is plainly our duty to cultivate this spirit of submission and trust in God under all circumstances, yet it is most important that we shouldendeavour so to provide against calamity, that, if it comes, we may not have the pain of thinking how much our sufferings have been brought about by our own misconduct God has so ordered things in this world, that our success or failure will always depend much upon ourselves.“It has been truly remarked, that only in one relation of life is choice left to us.  You will see that I refer to the relation of husband or wife.  On this, however, more than on any other, depends our happiness and the happiness of those connected with us.  You will, perhaps, say that in writing to those who have already made their choice, and whose position, in this respect, is unalterable, it cannot be of any use to make such remarks.  But I feel, and you will feel with me, that, in our children, we live our own lives over again; and the more we have suffered from any particular mistake, which we may ourselves have made, the more anxious we should feel to shield those dear to us from similar misfortune.“There are many people at the present time who are thinking a great deal about the suffering of the poor, and are trying to find out how it arises, and how it can in some way be lessened.  One very general opinion is, that much misery is brought about by early and imprudent marriages.“One great difference between people in my position of life and in yours is, that, generally speaking, before incurring the expenses attendant on married life, we wait to reap the fruits of many years of careful industry.We frequently defer marriage until both parties are even between thirty and forty years of age, instead of taking this important step without making any provision for the future, and often before either the one or the other has attained the age of twenty.“A lady once entreated a girl of eighteen to defer her marriage until she, or her intended husband, had saved sufficient money to provide a little comfortable furniture for their room, as well as to have a few pounds in hand to fall back upon in case of necessity.  She pointed out to her what sufferings might arise in many ways, if they did not follow her advice.  The girl replied—“‘I think, if John and I don’t mind it, nobody else need trouble their heads about it.  If trouble comes, we shall just have to bear it; and it is nothing to anybody else.’“I happen to know the history of this family, and all that followed.  Work was plentiful at first, and John earned pretty good wages; but Sarah—for that was her name—had married before she had learned how to make the most of money, as you will suppose, when I tell you that she had topayfor the making of her wedding gown.  The husband soon found the public-house was more attractive than his dirty home and miserably cooked meals; and you know, after that happens, how fast the money goes.  But the saddest part of all relates to the poor, unoffending, helpless children, who came one by one into this wretched dwelling.  Their mother was not badly disposed, andhad she spent ten years longer, before marriage, in learning how to provide for the wants of the body, and train the mind, she might have done better than many women; but, as it was, on the whole face of the earth the eye could scarcely alight on a more completely wretched spot than this one room, where, day after day, the father, mother, and children suffered everything that can enfeeble the body and degrade the mind.“The united effect of cold, bad air, starvation, and neglect, was to consign seven out of nine of their children to the grave before they had reached their sixth year.  The other two are, I believe, still living, the inmates of a workhouse; their deformed and diseased bodies preventing the possibility of their earning their own livelihood.  As they pass their suffering days and wearisome nights in that dreary abode, withnothingto hope so far as this world is concerned, how bitterly could they protest against their mother’s remark that her imprudent marriage was nothing to any one else but herself!  The father and mother are long since dead; disease, brought on prematurely by intemperance, cut short their lives before they had lived out half the time usually appointed to man on earth.“I feel sure that most of such suffering might be saved, if mothers would try from the first to present this subject in a right light to their children.  Much good may be done, too, by endeavouring to raise the tastes of young people so that they shallliketo surround themselves with what is good, and neat, andcomfortable; for thisfeelingbelongs quite as much to your position in life as to mine.  The only difference is as to the degree in which it can be carried out.  Believe me, it is anything but avirtuefor a young couple to begin life together, satisfied with just one room to live in, furnished with a bed stuffed with straw, a table, and a few broken chairs.“I once had a servant who lived with me many years.  At last, she became engaged to a respectable young carpenter in the neighbourhood.  Out of their joint savings the furniture was provided, and a comfortable room downstairs and one above.  When she was telling me this, I said I supposed they were now ready to be married.  ‘No, ma’am,’ she said, ‘not yet.  I want to have some nice curtains to my window, and a plant-stand; and if I stay here a few more months, I can get that without touching the £30 I have in the savings’ bank.’  I admired and respected her much for her good taste and resolution.  I need hardly say, she is now an excellent wife and mother, and many pieces of furniture have been added to their little establishment since their wedding day—a bright contrast to those many cases in which, when the first difficulty arises, one thing after another is taken to the pawn-shop.“There is another way in which some of you may do good, and that is, by trying to shelter and protect young girls more than is generally done.  The character of a poor girl is quite as valuable as that of a girl in any other station of life, and ought to be as carefullywatched over.  By taking care so to arrange the work that no errands are left till after it is dark, or if, when going out in the evening cannot be avoided, you accompany them yourself, or get a friend to do so, much mischief and sorrow would be saved.  I am sure, nothing would do more to raise the people of this country, and bring about a better state of things, than an improvement in the manners of young women.“If we are ever to have such an improvement as I hope for, it will be obtained chiefly by the influence of mothers on these young people; and for their sakes, if not for our own, we should strive to get a taste for ‘all that is good, and beautiful, and true.’“In bringing this long letter to a close, you must allow me to thank you very much for all the kindness and sympathy you have shewn me during my illness.  I continually hear of your kind inquiries, and they are indeed pleasant to me.  Thoughts of you have cheered many solitary hours, and I shall be delighted to come amongst you again.  I have felt my absence from you one of the greatest privations which I have had to bear.  I have now the bright hope before me of being able to take my place among you in about a fortnight from this time.“Till then,then, believe me,“Your sincere friend.”

“Bath,November6, 1855.

“My dear Friends,—

“I am truly sorry to be obliged to be absent from you so long.  It has always given me much pleasure to meet you at our weekly meetings, and I now miss them very much.  I shall be indeed thankful when it pleases God to restore me to health, and enable me to resume my usual place among you.

“I have thought much and often, during my long illness, how entirely we are dependent upon God for every power we possess, both of mind and body.  We can work only by His permission.  In a moment, if He sees fit, He can withdraw from us all our powers; and we are perfectly helpless until it pleases Him to restore them to us.  To those who really love God, and are His children, it is a delightful thought that He controls everything.  It is the happiest thing in the world to know, that a wisdom which cannot err, and a love which cannot fail, are conducting us through the journey of life, instead of our own erring judgment.  I wish we could allfeelthis, as well as know it.  It is God’s great gift that He is willing to bestow upon us all, if we constantly and earnestly seek it from Him.  The highest earthly station, and all that wealth can purchase, will bring no happiness compared with having our wills made one with God’s will.  If you obtain this, my dear friends, poor as some of you are, you might be objects of envy to many of the great ones of the earth, who are wearied in the greatness of their way, not having yet learned the great lesson of submission.

“There is much, just now, which makes us fear we are entering upon a winter of peculiar trial and difficulty.  The high prices of provisions must occasion many of you great anxiety; and much care and economy will, I am sure, be required to make you at all comfortable.  Thoughalldepartures from God’s law must be followed by suffering, it seemsthatwar—which cannot be engaged in without breaking most of the commandments of God, and setting aside entirely the precepts of love and forgiveness of injuries—must be attended with great suffering to any nation that engages in it.  God, who made the world, knows exactly by what laws it ought to be governed; and we cannot set aside those laws, without bringing great sorrow upon ourselves.

“We shall all, I fear, have much to suffer from the present war; and I truly grieve that such a considerable share of this suffering must be borne by the poor.  We must learn from it this great lesson, that it is an evil and a bitter thing to depart from God; and let it be an inducement to instil more carefully than ever into the minds of our children principles of love and kindness, teaching them, especially, to forgive injuries, as Jesus did, instead of revenging them, which He told us not to do.  Thus, when they grow up to have their influence as men and women, and to form a part of the great nation, they may in every way promote ‘peace on earth, and good-will towards men.’  I trust that He who hears the young ravens when they cry, and feedeth them, will, at this trying season, provide food for you and your children.  For nothing is too hard for the Lord; and those among you, who really love and trust God, may derive the greatest consolation from the beautiful promise—‘None of them that trust in me shall be desolate.’

“I was reading, a little while ago, about a youngwoman who was early in life deprived by death of her nearest relations, and whose lot was to live with people who were extremely unkind, indeed even cruel, to her.  She was a very amiable person, and pleasing in appearance.  A gentleman, in a higher station of life than her own, was informed of her history; and, after a short acquaintance, made her an offer of marriage.  The persons with whom she lived, instead of being glad at the prospect of such an improvement in her circumstances, were only the more exasperated against her; and, having the power, they refused to give her up until she was of age; and endeavoured to make her more unhappy than ever.  A friend once remarked to her, that he wondered how she could bear such treatment.  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I hardly feel it; it is to last so short a time!  I only think of myself as the future wife of that kind gentleman.’

“I thought directly, that this was just the spirit in which we should pass through life.  We should then be brave of heart, and not disheartened at our difficulties.  It is, indeed, a wonderful thought that the poorest and meanest being who toils upon the earth may be heir to a state of happiness and glory too great for description; as it is said—‘Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.’

“But though it is plainly our duty to cultivate this spirit of submission and trust in God under all circumstances, yet it is most important that we shouldendeavour so to provide against calamity, that, if it comes, we may not have the pain of thinking how much our sufferings have been brought about by our own misconduct God has so ordered things in this world, that our success or failure will always depend much upon ourselves.

“It has been truly remarked, that only in one relation of life is choice left to us.  You will see that I refer to the relation of husband or wife.  On this, however, more than on any other, depends our happiness and the happiness of those connected with us.  You will, perhaps, say that in writing to those who have already made their choice, and whose position, in this respect, is unalterable, it cannot be of any use to make such remarks.  But I feel, and you will feel with me, that, in our children, we live our own lives over again; and the more we have suffered from any particular mistake, which we may ourselves have made, the more anxious we should feel to shield those dear to us from similar misfortune.

“There are many people at the present time who are thinking a great deal about the suffering of the poor, and are trying to find out how it arises, and how it can in some way be lessened.  One very general opinion is, that much misery is brought about by early and imprudent marriages.

“One great difference between people in my position of life and in yours is, that, generally speaking, before incurring the expenses attendant on married life, we wait to reap the fruits of many years of careful industry.We frequently defer marriage until both parties are even between thirty and forty years of age, instead of taking this important step without making any provision for the future, and often before either the one or the other has attained the age of twenty.

“A lady once entreated a girl of eighteen to defer her marriage until she, or her intended husband, had saved sufficient money to provide a little comfortable furniture for their room, as well as to have a few pounds in hand to fall back upon in case of necessity.  She pointed out to her what sufferings might arise in many ways, if they did not follow her advice.  The girl replied—

“‘I think, if John and I don’t mind it, nobody else need trouble their heads about it.  If trouble comes, we shall just have to bear it; and it is nothing to anybody else.’

“I happen to know the history of this family, and all that followed.  Work was plentiful at first, and John earned pretty good wages; but Sarah—for that was her name—had married before she had learned how to make the most of money, as you will suppose, when I tell you that she had topayfor the making of her wedding gown.  The husband soon found the public-house was more attractive than his dirty home and miserably cooked meals; and you know, after that happens, how fast the money goes.  But the saddest part of all relates to the poor, unoffending, helpless children, who came one by one into this wretched dwelling.  Their mother was not badly disposed, andhad she spent ten years longer, before marriage, in learning how to provide for the wants of the body, and train the mind, she might have done better than many women; but, as it was, on the whole face of the earth the eye could scarcely alight on a more completely wretched spot than this one room, where, day after day, the father, mother, and children suffered everything that can enfeeble the body and degrade the mind.

“The united effect of cold, bad air, starvation, and neglect, was to consign seven out of nine of their children to the grave before they had reached their sixth year.  The other two are, I believe, still living, the inmates of a workhouse; their deformed and diseased bodies preventing the possibility of their earning their own livelihood.  As they pass their suffering days and wearisome nights in that dreary abode, withnothingto hope so far as this world is concerned, how bitterly could they protest against their mother’s remark that her imprudent marriage was nothing to any one else but herself!  The father and mother are long since dead; disease, brought on prematurely by intemperance, cut short their lives before they had lived out half the time usually appointed to man on earth.

“I feel sure that most of such suffering might be saved, if mothers would try from the first to present this subject in a right light to their children.  Much good may be done, too, by endeavouring to raise the tastes of young people so that they shallliketo surround themselves with what is good, and neat, andcomfortable; for thisfeelingbelongs quite as much to your position in life as to mine.  The only difference is as to the degree in which it can be carried out.  Believe me, it is anything but avirtuefor a young couple to begin life together, satisfied with just one room to live in, furnished with a bed stuffed with straw, a table, and a few broken chairs.

“I once had a servant who lived with me many years.  At last, she became engaged to a respectable young carpenter in the neighbourhood.  Out of their joint savings the furniture was provided, and a comfortable room downstairs and one above.  When she was telling me this, I said I supposed they were now ready to be married.  ‘No, ma’am,’ she said, ‘not yet.  I want to have some nice curtains to my window, and a plant-stand; and if I stay here a few more months, I can get that without touching the £30 I have in the savings’ bank.’  I admired and respected her much for her good taste and resolution.  I need hardly say, she is now an excellent wife and mother, and many pieces of furniture have been added to their little establishment since their wedding day—a bright contrast to those many cases in which, when the first difficulty arises, one thing after another is taken to the pawn-shop.

“There is another way in which some of you may do good, and that is, by trying to shelter and protect young girls more than is generally done.  The character of a poor girl is quite as valuable as that of a girl in any other station of life, and ought to be as carefullywatched over.  By taking care so to arrange the work that no errands are left till after it is dark, or if, when going out in the evening cannot be avoided, you accompany them yourself, or get a friend to do so, much mischief and sorrow would be saved.  I am sure, nothing would do more to raise the people of this country, and bring about a better state of things, than an improvement in the manners of young women.

“If we are ever to have such an improvement as I hope for, it will be obtained chiefly by the influence of mothers on these young people; and for their sakes, if not for our own, we should strive to get a taste for ‘all that is good, and beautiful, and true.’

“In bringing this long letter to a close, you must allow me to thank you very much for all the kindness and sympathy you have shewn me during my illness.  I continually hear of your kind inquiries, and they are indeed pleasant to me.  Thoughts of you have cheered many solitary hours, and I shall be delighted to come amongst you again.  I have felt my absence from you one of the greatest privations which I have had to bear.  I have now the bright hope before me of being able to take my place among you in about a fortnight from this time.

“Till then,then, believe me,

“Your sincere friend.”

O royal island, beautiful and fair!There are who aid when ev’n thy statesmen sleep,With the soft voice of prayer.

O royal island, beautiful and fair!There are who aid when ev’n thy statesmen sleep,With the soft voice of prayer.

Eachyear’s intimacy with the interesting people of whom I have written has afforded fresh information, so that I find myself embarrassed with a multitude of facts; and after six years’ experience, selection from the accumulation of details is the only difficulty.  It would be easy to multiply scenes of interest, equalling any already described; but if enough have been given to awaken sympathy, and stimulate to exertion, my object is accomplished.  A few observations on subjects of great importance, not prominently brought forward in any of the preceding narratives, will be sufficient to close the whole.

One of the greatest obstacles which meets those who are striving to improve the homes of the poor is the construction of dwellings.  There are whole streets of houses in this neighbourhood, whose appearance gives you the idea that they were originally designed for a higher class of people; and yet the builder must have known that the supply of such houses was already much beyond the demand, and that, if let at all, the inmates must be poor.  Nothing, however, adapts them for this class of inhabitants.  Five or six families may occasionallybe found in one such house, with no more provision for health, comfort, and decency, than ought to be made for each one.

The houses professedly erected for the poor are still more deficient.  They are sometimes built below the level of the road, so that the drainage istothem, instead offromthem.  The basements are consequently fearfully damp, and the whole atmosphere, in every part of the house, is impregnated with the effluvia from stagnant sewage.

The materials used in buildings are so bad, and the workmanship so inferior, that the floors are always loose, and everything seems constantly getting out of order.  We have whole streets of small six-roomed houses let out entirely to the poor; so that three families frequently live in one house.There is no outlet to the air at the back of these dwellings,either by door or by window.  One long, blank wall is all that is to be seen.  Frequent illness prevails among the inhabitants of these streets, and I can never forget the scenes presented there during the visitation of the cholera.  I cannot bear to dwell upon them, but, for the sake of my subject, I must mention one case.  In a small bed-room on the top floor of one of these dwellings I found, one morning, that a woman and a child had died in the night; and another woman in the same room, though still living, appeared in a dying state.  I shudder when I think of that room; no pen can describe its horrors.  It was a close, hot morning in July, not a breath of air was stirring.  The window was thrown up at the bottom;it could not be opened at the top; and as there was no draught through the house to draw the air into the room, very little relief could be obtained.  The dying woman was the mother of little children, and I would have given anything to save her.  The only possible expedient that suggested itself to me was to have some of the bricks forced out of the back wall.  This was done; but all was in vain, the poor mother died, surviving her husband only a few days; and the little children either cried in the street, or were cared for by a neighbour, till they were taken away to the workhouse.

As I left that street, I could think only of the words—“It is of the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed.”  The contrivances of men seemed so fraught with destruction, that, if it were not for the interposition of God, the consequences would be still more disastrous.

I sat down as soon as I reached home, and wrote a letter to the editor of theTimes, describing the scenes I had witnessed that morning, calling his attention particularly to the construction of those houses; and then asked, in the bitterness of my heart, if, with all our extensive and costly paraphernalia of government, nothing could be done to stop this awful waste of comfort, health, and life.  The importance of the subject at once commended itself.  The narrative not only appeared, but was backed by every argument and appeal that the talented pen of the editor could bring to bear upon it.  But there it ended: no steps havebeen taken to make the construction of such dwellings contrary to the law of the land.  Many fathers, mothers, and children, too, have since died in those streets; only, in these cases, by lingering fever, instead of by sudden cholera.  Surely the cries of distress must have ascended again and again, and have “entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth!”

But there is still a darker side to this grievance.  The death of the few is less calculated to excite our compassion, than the miserable, lingering existence of the many.  When I see the little boys and girls playing before the doors, often with crooked backs or crooked limbs, with emaciated forms and faces, if not with still more unmistakable marks of disease, I cannot help thinking,—Are these boys to be our future working-men, upon whose sinew and muscle we are to depend for cultivating our soil, constructing our railways, sinking our mines, and defending our country; and are these girls to be the mothers of the next generation?

There was mercy, as well as judgment, in the punishment that followed the disobedience of our first parents.  The sentence, “In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread,” is not an unmitigated evil.  The most active persons are generally the most cheerful; and the hard workers are usually happier than the deep thinkers.  But when the body, which God intended and adapted for labour, has, by the habitual violation of the laws of health, during all its first years, become enfeebled and deranged, the necessity for exertionbecomes apainfulreality, and may, indeed, be looked upon as a curse—as “the dark cloud without a silver lining.”

There is a deeper meaning than some suppose in that constant application for “light places,” of which we hear so much.  Some tell us, it is all indolence; and thus on the surface it often appears.  But surely there must be some cause, even for indolence.  A child of good constitution, and where health has been judiciously cared for, becomes, as soon as he is able to manifest his power, almost inconveniently active.  The nurse complains that “he will never bide still;” that she “can’t get a minute’s peace for him;” that “there is no end to the mischief he does.”  Now, a child is not active from principle, nor because he feels it would be wrong to be indolent.  He has not to be instructed to move, although he sometimes has to be taught to be still.  Activity is the joy of his life, and would doubtless continue so, if it were not for the evil influences that are permitted to surround the body, marring God’s beautiful work, and bringing down the dishonouring reflection upon the Creator, that man, as he is constituted, is “not strong enough for his place.”

A friend of mine was changing her residence a short time ago.  She wished to retain throughout the day the men who were employed in removing her furniture; she therefore provided a dinner for them at her own house, to prevent the necessity of their returning home.  Some meat-pies were warmed for them, whichhad been made the previous day; and this, with the addition of hot potatoes, made a nice dinner.  As the men left in the evening, they thanked her for their good dinner, especially that she had taken the trouble to have it madehotfor them; “for you see, ma’am,” they added, “there is such nasty air in the places where we sleep, that we never care to eat when we get up in the morning; nor yet much at any other time, except it is made tasty, like, for us.”

If such is the case, whence is the strength for labour to come?  The workman’s livelihood depends upon his ability to work.  He may not leave off to rest because he is tired.  This is a sad subject, and it reveals to us the great source of intemperance.  Is it any wonder that, if a man has a few pence in his pocket, he cannot pass the doors of a public-house without feeling a strong temptation to go in and purchase what, though imparting no strength, enables him to forget for a time the miseries of his existence?

There are two things which I cannot understand: 1st, That the government should do so little for the people in the way of sanitary reform; and, 2d, that the people should so seldom ask them to do more.  It is a matter of much regret that the only subjects which our legislators take up, when they come among their constituents, are such topics as “Extension of the Franchise,” “Vote by Ballot,” “Electoral Districts,” “Foreign Policy;” while Education, Temperance, and Sanitary Science are completely excluded.

It would be interesting to go through the Parliamentaryreports of a year, and note what proportion of time the representatives of the people spend in doing or saying anything that has reference to the moral and physical elevation or general well-being of their constituents.  I am quite willing to acknowledge that my want of appreciation of what is actually done may arise from an inability to comprehend the magnitude and importance of these subjects to the country.  But, granting this, may it not at the same time justly be said, “These ought ye to have done, and not to have left the other undone?”

I must confess that, up to the present moment, I cannot comprehend howanythingcan be more advantageous to the country than the elevation of its own people.  This need not, at the present day, be undertaken hopelessly.  Enough has already been accomplished, through Ragged Schools alone, to shew what can be done.  Most of the evils from which our poor people suffer are fortunately removable.  They do not arise from bad climate, unfruitful soil, determined hostility on the part of the governed, or determined oppression on the part of the governors.

The way in which the poor usually respond to efforts made for their relief, the patience and forbearance they manifest in times of public calamity, are most encouraging to witness, and prove that “English hearts and English hands” are worthy of the assistance which an active and sensible government could extend to them.  I cannot think of anything, at the present time, that would be so helpful to the poor as suitable, well-adaptedhouses to live in.  The miserable places which they are now compelled to call homes have a great deal to do withallthe immorality that is to be found among them.  No one, who has taken the trouble to investigate the matter, can doubt this for a moment; and as long as there are people in the world unconscientious enough to erect such dwellings for the poor as those we have described, it must surely be a right and proper thing for the legislature to step in and say, “We will not stand by and see our people mentally, morally, and physically degraded in this way: we interpose our authority, and insist that such-and-such modes of construction can no longer be permitted.”

But we must also consider the other side of the subject—the indifference of the working-classes themselves in obtaining assistance from their rulers.  The fact is, they so seldom hear that any but purely political matters claim attention, that they can hardly realise the possibility of being helped by government out of any domestic difficulties.  Nothing, however, can justify their foolish clamour for what, if obtained, could in no way benefit them.  I have often told working-men that, so long as they continue to ask for stones when they want bread, they must expect only to get stones.

I once witnessed a very exciting election, from the windows of a house at Bath.  I shall never forget the sight of that sea of human faces, which extended as far as the eye could reach, and all directed towards the hustings.  It was a cloudless day in July.  The sun beat piteously down upon the many uncovered heads,yet there they stood—this closely-packed mass of people—from ten or eleven in the morning till two or three o’clock in the afternoon, enduring an amount of torture that was worthy of a better cause.  A gentleman, who was witnessing it from the same window, was greatly distressed at the sight; and, at last, when some one was carried out of the crowd in an unconscious state, he stamped his foot, and, as if he could bear it no longer, exclaimed—

“I have no patience with it—such a set of muffs broiling themselves to death under the sun, and shouting themselves hoarse, for they don’t know what.  If there were any chance of their getting any good out of it, I might respect them for their powers of endurance.”

“Yes,” I said; “if, for instance, they were agitating that a bill might be brought into Parliament for making it the law of the land that all windows should be made to open at the top as well as at the bottom.”

“Just so,” replied my friend; “or that wages were always to be paid before four o’clock on Saturday afternoon.  Yes, I could respect them forthat, instead of despising them, as, upon my word, I now do, for their much ado about nothing; that is, about nothing to them.”

I am, however, induced to think, from much which I have met in my own experience, and also from what I have heard through other observers, that among the better class of working-men (a class whose value and importance to this country cannot be over-estimated) there is a sincere wish to avail themselves of the assistanceof any helping hand held out to their relief.  They have often confided to me their troubles, with the simplicity and earnestness of children, and have asked—

“Do you think, ma’am, you could do anything for us?  We should be so glad, if you could put us up to some better way of getting on.”

This subject is worth every attention, even with those who take no higher ground than what willpay.  How many of the victims of unhealthy houses are now crowding into our hospitals, asylums, and workhouses, a burden to their country, living upon its wealth, instead of adding to it by their activity and skill!  Sin and sorrow, in this world, are inseparable.  Neglect and bad management have made the very class intended by a wise and kind Creator as the spring of the country’s greatest wealth, to become a source of great trouble and expense.

If there is any doubt as to thedutyof caring more for the poor, we have only to look at the example of Him who went about doing good, who, “when He saw the multitudes, had compassion upon them.”  We cannot, like Him, heal the sick and cleanse the leper; but, by the use of appointed means, how much sickness and moral leprosy may be prevented!

If the government of this country would, in this way, follow the steps of “another King, even Jesus,” doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God, then might we look for the fulfilment of the promise—“I will open the windows of heaven, and pour out upon you such a blessing as there shall bescarce room to contain.”  And now that dark clouds are rising around our political horizon, and many hearts are failing them for fear, is it not a time to turn unto God in the way that He has Himself marked out?—“Is not this the fast that I have chosen: to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?  Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house: when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?  Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thy health shall spring forth speedily.”

When we contemplate how great a change would be wrought in a nation, were its rulers men fearing God, and hating covetousness, and, like Daniel, going many times a-day to ask counsel of the Lord, we seem to see the pen moving in the hand of the recording angel, as he writes, “No weapon formed against it shall prosper.”

We must return for a moment to our own more immediate work.  In consequence of the disadvantage to which we have alluded, we have not been able to effect all the improvement we could wish in the dwellings of our poor mothers; but, by the introduction of cleanliness, order, and ventilation, the aspect of many homes has been much changed.  Soon after we commenced these meetings, we spent the greater part of one evening in explaining the nature and effects of pure air and ventilation, and illustrating the subject invarious ways.  The listeners were startled at the facts brought before them: and by their unfeigned expressions of astonishment, it was evident that their ideas on the subject, and nature’s intentions, were quite at variance.  Several months afterwards, on entering a house where two of our poor mothers lived, I was pleased to observe how clean and well-ventilated it was.  On remarking this, one of the women said—“Ah! that was a wonderful evening when you told us all about what air we could live upon, and what we couldn’t.  I says to Mrs L—, as we were going home, ‘There now, we have been a-shutting up our windows, and thinking we were shutting thepizenout, instead of which we were shutting of it in.’  I soon got my window made to open at the top, and it has never been quite shut since; for we always sleeps six in this room.  The neighbours did say, at first, that we should catch our deaths; but they soon saw that we were so much better, that half the people in the street open their windows at the top now.”

This same woman came to me a few weeks ago, and told me that she had lately removed into another street, where the houses were apparently of a better order than those she had left; but after the first week or two, she found that, in consequence of a drain-pipe being out of order, they were constantly subjected to an unpleasant smell.  “I tell my landlord of it,” she said, “every Monday morning when I pay my rent; and he always says to me, ‘I’ll send a man here in a day or two, and have it put to rights;’ and that havebeen going on now for six weeks, and nobody has been a-near the place to do anything yet.  I have two children ill with fever; and we all wake of a morning now with that old miserable, sick, tired feeling we used to have before you told us how to manage better.  My boys said this morning, ‘Mother, the work do seem so hard now, to what it used to.’  You know, ma’am, the work isn’t no difference; but we are all getting pizen’d with that nasty smell; and it do seem so hard to me, for I have never had no illness to speak of among ’em all, for the last four years.”

At a very early period in our meeting we introduced a whitewash brush.  This is lent to any of the mothers who apply for it.  It is very frequently out; indeed, in the spring of the year, it is seldom at home.  As many as seven or eight of these brushes have been worn out in the service of the society since its commencement.  A thick iron saucepan is also kept at the house of one of our missionaries, and lent for the purpose of soup-making.  Each member is supplied with a large printed receipt, giving particular direction for the composition of this soup.  This receipt is so valuable, that I intend placing it at the end of this book.

There is one other subject to which I wish to refer, before laying aside my pen.  An objection has sometimes been raised to the establishment of Mothers’ Societies, on the ground that it is wrong to offer these poor women any inducement to leave their homes;that accident may arise from their absence; that the husband may be dissatisfied, and so forth.  A lady once reminded a working-man of these objections; he roughly replied, “What’s the use of a woman being always at home, if she can’t do nothing—no good, when she is there?  Now she does pick up something at the meeting, and we are all a sight better off the rest of the week for her going there a bit.”  Another lady, visiting at one of their houses, asked the husband how he liked having to remain at home, and take care of the children, while his wife was at the meeting.  His reply was, “I should think, ma’am, that was little enough for me to do for all the good my wife gets there.  She is always bringing home bits of clothes for some of us that she makes there, besides lots of things to talk about.”

It must be evident to all, that it is not possible for any mother to spend every hour of her life at home.  When, unfortunately, she is obliged to assist in the maintenance of the family, many hours of absence have to be provided for; and it is not more difficult to arrange for her absence at the Mothers’ Meeting than anywhere else.  Children, from the age of one to seven, are generally in bed before seven o’clock; older children are not so likely to get into mischief; and the baby, if necessary, can be brought with the mother.

It is not desirable, however, that any president should require regularity of attendance.  The illness of their husbands or children, and many other things that may arise, ought, of course, to keep the mothersat home.  When they have come to me to apologise for their absence, as they frequently do, I have generally to say, “I should indeed have been sorry to have seen you here under such circumstances.”

There is surely some want of sympathy in the hearts of those who continue to urge this objection.  A lady once not only declined subscribing to the society on this plea; but said also, it was all owing to the “miserable mothers that the servants of the present day were so bad; and she would not have anything to do with such a set.”

Those who can dismiss their children, at pleasure, to the nursery or the school-room, are apt to forget the sufferings of others differently situated, whose lives are worn down by one constant and unmitigated pressure.  I have thought that one principal reason why the poor mother often fails so much in her duties is, that there are nopausesin her work.  The physical suffering and the weariness of spirit induced by this constant toil have much to do with that fretfulness of temper which often makes the homes of poor children wretched indeed.  A cord strained too tightly, and too long, will snap at a touch that would otherwise have produced the sweetest music.  The words of sympathy which meet the ear at these meetings refresh the wounded spirit.  The thought is suggested, that, painful and irksome as the work may often be, it is of God’s appointment; and that to do it for Him, and with a view to His glory, at once ennobles and sanctifies it.

A poor woman, whose heart had been renewed by Divine grace, once said to me, “I used to think I was the poorest, miserablest thing in the world, always slaving about after children; but now God has shewed me my work so different, that I wouldn’t change with the parson.”

The following letter, which I received from one of our poor mothers, will prove the truth of these observations better than anything I can add:—

“Potteries,January7, 1856.“Dear Christian Friend,—“It was very much my wish to have spoken a few words on Thursday evening, but was unable to do so; therefore, to pacify my conscience, I write to you, stating a few of the advantages I have received since I became a member of your society.“1st.  That of sympathy.  If I have been in trouble and difficulty, you have ever lent a willing ear to my tale of sorrow, and led me to cast my care on Him who has promised to care for me.“2d.  That of training my children in the best way.  Being obliged to work very hard for them, I have found little time to spare for teaching them; but being reminded by you so often that a mother’s voice, a mother’s look, a mother’s actions, are all noticed by children, I must say it has often influenced me to bear with patience much that I should nothave done, and offer a silent prayer for their welfare; and been more happy myself in thus acting.“3d.  We enjoy rest.  Often with hurried step we hasten there, and the first sound that salutes our ear is the calm voice of prayer, which seems at once to hush the mind to peace, and carry our sorrows to a throne of grace, where we find relief and comfort.“Again, there are the texts of Scripture, which often prove a word in season.  Sometimes we have been very tired, by reason of the way; difficulties have beset our path, and every hour of the day has been full of care; and perhaps we hear those kind words—‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’  ‘Cast thy burden on the Lord, and he will sustain thee.’  ‘Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee.’  We thus leave the place of meeting relieved from much that would distress us.  I have thus written a few of the advantages derived from attending the Mothers’ Meeting.“Praying that a blessing may rest on you; and hoping you will never grow weary in this work of faith and labour of love,“Believe me to remain,Yours most respectfully,—”

“Potteries,January7, 1856.

“Dear Christian Friend,—

“It was very much my wish to have spoken a few words on Thursday evening, but was unable to do so; therefore, to pacify my conscience, I write to you, stating a few of the advantages I have received since I became a member of your society.

“1st.  That of sympathy.  If I have been in trouble and difficulty, you have ever lent a willing ear to my tale of sorrow, and led me to cast my care on Him who has promised to care for me.

“2d.  That of training my children in the best way.  Being obliged to work very hard for them, I have found little time to spare for teaching them; but being reminded by you so often that a mother’s voice, a mother’s look, a mother’s actions, are all noticed by children, I must say it has often influenced me to bear with patience much that I should nothave done, and offer a silent prayer for their welfare; and been more happy myself in thus acting.

“3d.  We enjoy rest.  Often with hurried step we hasten there, and the first sound that salutes our ear is the calm voice of prayer, which seems at once to hush the mind to peace, and carry our sorrows to a throne of grace, where we find relief and comfort.

“Again, there are the texts of Scripture, which often prove a word in season.  Sometimes we have been very tired, by reason of the way; difficulties have beset our path, and every hour of the day has been full of care; and perhaps we hear those kind words—‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’  ‘Cast thy burden on the Lord, and he will sustain thee.’  ‘Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee.’  We thus leave the place of meeting relieved from much that would distress us.  I have thus written a few of the advantages derived from attending the Mothers’ Meeting.

“Praying that a blessing may rest on you; and hoping you will never grow weary in this work of faith and labour of love,

“Believe me to remain,Yours most respectfully,—”

In drawing this narrative of facts to a close, I would make one or two concluding remarks:—

Dr. Chalmers used to say that most of us think too much of our abilities, and too little of our influence.The force of example is always great, even though the exemplar be a fool.  A man of the narrowest intellect will accomplish more by personal conduct than the large-brained man will effect by mere verbal precept.  It is true not only that

“A peasant may believe as much as a great clerk,”

“A peasant may believe as much as a great clerk,”

but that he maydoas much.  Not only to hope and to faith are the “not many wise” called, but to charity also.  We have seen in the preceding pages that our Great Master has made use of the humblest servants to achieve that which the professional philanthropist, with all his busy schemes, had not been able to compass.  Therefore to the wise, who may chance to look into this volume, I would say, “Be not over-confident of success in undertaking the work of which I have spoken.  To charity, the heart is a far more necessary and vital organ than the brain.  What you do will have twenty-fold the force of what you say.  And in order to do rightly, you must be content to learn of those whom you could teach everything but this one thing.”  Those who are conscious of much intellectual weakness I would encourage by the narratives of what has been wrought by instruments of an even less keen temper than they.

But I would not be understood to slight the literature of philanthropy.  Facts and figures, statistics compiled with much toil and difficulty, are the foundation stones of all legislative social reforms.  They are indispensable in all cases where we wish the government of a country to interpose.

Next, I would observe that we should “patiently wait” for results.  There is a grand Eastern proverb which says, “Hurry is of the devil, but slow advancing comes from God.”  Hurry is not progress; sure progress is generally slow.  It may not be given to us, who sow the seed, to gather in the harvest.  But if our faith is strong, we shall believe that hereafter it will be our great reward to join the glad song of the heavenly reapers, as they lay the bounteous sheaves at the feet of the Lord of the harvest.

Lastly, there is one thing that is in the power of all of us.  However difficult it is todoour Father’s will on earth as it is done in heaven, we can at leastpraythat His kingdom will speedily come; each may pray for those who are in “trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity.”

“More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams of. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .For so the whole round earth is every wayBound by gold chains about the feet of God.”

“More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams of. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .For so the whole round earth is every wayBound by gold chains about the feet of God.”

1.Thatthis meeting shall assemble one evening in the week, at seven o’clock or half-past seven, according to the season of the year, and close as nearly as possible at nine o’clock.

2.  That at every meeting a passage of Scripture shall be read, and followed by prayer.  The work shall then be commenced, and deposits received, both for clothing and savings’ bank.  The lady who presides shall then read, or relate something suitable to the object of the meeting, and if desirable and time permit, conversation shall ensue.

3.  Although remarks to the purpose will be highly valued from any member of this Society, it will be necessary, to save confusion, that all such remarks should be addressed to the President of the meeting, and that not more than one shall speak at a time.

4.  That we all endeavour to cultivate a spirit of kindness and sympathy with one another, in our commondifficulties; and when cases of peculiar sorrow and distress arise, they should be mentioned at the commencement of the meeting, in order to be made the subject of special and earnest prayer.

5.  That at these meetings no mention shall be made of our neighbours’ faults and failings, but that we all, faithfully and earnestly, seek to obtain the greatest possible amount of assistance to aid us in our very important and often difficult duties.

6.  That the Secretary will make a point of being at home an hour before the commencement of each meeting, to see any member of this Society who would like to speak with her privately.

7.  That the articles of clothing provided, and sold at a reduced price, shall be obtained only by those who have regularly enrolled themselves as members of this Society.

8.  That no article of clothing shall be taken away until finished, and paid for, unless by permission of the lady who presides.

9.  That each member provide herself with thimble, needles, and cotton.

10.  That the work be continued until the time arrives for the concluding prayer by the Clergyman or the City Missionary.

Two ounces of dripping

1d.

Half a pound of solid meat, at 4d. per lb. (cut into dice one inch square)

2d.

Quarter of a pound of onions, sliced thin; quarter of a pound of turnip, cut into small dice; two ounces of leeks (green tops will do), and three ounces of celery, chopped small

1d.

Half a pound of rice, or pearl barley

1d.

Three ounces of salt, and a quarter of an ounce of brown sugar

½d.

Fuel to make it

½d.

Six quarts of water.

6d.

Take an iron saucepan (a tin one will not do); put into it, over the fire, your meat cut small, with two ounces of dripping, and a quarter of an ounce of brown sugar, shred in your onions, and stir with a wooden or iron spoon till fried lightly brown; haveready washed and sliced your turnips, celery, and leeks, add them to the rest over the fire, and stir about for ten minutes.  Now add one quart of cold water, and the half-pound of barley or rice, and mix all well together.  Then add five quarts of hot water, made ready in the kettle, season with your salt, stir occasionally till boiling, and then let simmer on the hob for three hours; at the end of which time the rice or barley will be tender.

This soup will keep two or three days if poured into a flat pan, but it is best made every other day.  You must stir till nearly cold, when you take it off the fire, which will prevent its fermenting.  A little bread or biscuit eaten with it makes a supporting meal, much better than a cup of tea, and would go far to prevent the craving for gin.

Great care should be taken that the saucepan be perfectly clean, the dripping and meat sweet, and the vegetables fresh.


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