A Lady of England 26

A Lady of England 26

Will you kindly tell my Letitia that I have put up her

paint-box, to be sent to Somerset House, as I dare say that

your dear husband will kindly take charge of the little parcel....

 

‘The weather here has not been very choice. We had candles at

luncheon yesterday. We make ourselves very happy, however,

by vigorous reading. In the evening we discourse with Queen

Elizabeth, Leicester, Paul Buys, and Olden Barneveldt, etc.;

in the morning we go out hunting with M. Chaillu, plunging

amongst hippopotami and crocodiles, demolishing big black

serpents, or perhaps capturing a baby-gorilla, more troublesome

than dear Edgy himself.

 

‘We are all just now in a state of indignation about your

pork! Don’t suppose that it is any fault in the pork; on the

contrary, it is acknowledged to be the most “refined” pork ever

known; and Mother says that if she shut her eyes, she would

not know that she was not eating chicken!! We had a beautiful

roast of it one day at luncheon; and Mother cut off a choice

bit, to be reserved for our table, cold, while the servants

were indulged with the rest of that joint. To-day Mother asked

for our reserved bit. Would you believe it?--those dreadfully

greedy servants had eaten _our_ bit as well as their own,

though they had legs of mutton on Friday and Saturday, and

a 22 lb. joint of roastbeef on Sunday! Do you marvel at our

indignation? Mother means to call some one to account. She puts

all the pathos of the question upon _me_. Miss Charlotte to be

disappointed of her reserved bit of pork! I can hardly keep

my countenance, but of course must not disclaim my interest

in the question. These greedy servants must be kept in order.

It is not for nothing that we read of valiant encounters with

alligators and hippopotami.’

 

TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘_Dec. 3, 1862._

 

‘DEAREST LAURA,--We at last opened our piano, and your song has

been thoroughly examined. The result is that some parts are

much liked. Clara was so much pleased with the verse about the

Rose, that after singing it over for Mother’s benefit she sang

it three times over for her own. The words are not worthy of

the music; it ought to be sacred; and I intend to copy it out

in my own little music-book as a hymn, so that its interest

will not die away with that of the bridal.[8] The part next

best liked is the Shamrock verse; and if I might venture a

suggestion, I think that the whole of the “We hail thee” might

be set to it; only the “glittering” accompaniment must be

confined to the Shamrock verse. I think people often like the

repetition of one air over and over, far better than a great

variety.

 

The air is flowing and attractive, and there is no harm in its

brevity. The first part, “We hail thee,” has a transition,

which we fear that the rules of thorough-bass might not permit;

and the Thistle is hardly equal to either the Shamrock or

the Rose,--of which, you see, I would make a _separate_ song

and hymn. If you would write out the song to the music of the

former, I do not see why we should not try to get it accepted

by a publisher. I hope that you will excuse my thus venturing

to criticise your song and so unmercifully to cut it short.

 

‘I will give on the next page the words which I propose

putting--for my own use--to the hymn part. Very little

alteration will make them go very well to the air, for I have

tried them; and the repetition of the last words, which your

sweet music requires, suits lines the whole emphasis of which

falls on the closing words; at least I fancy so.’

 

The lines following are given here, not exactly as they appeared in the

letter, but in the corrected and improved form which afterwards appeared

in print with the music:--

 

‘The Lord He is my strength and stay,

When sorrow’s cup o’erflows the brim;

It sweetens all if we can say,

“This is from Him!”

All comfort, comfort, flows from Him.

 

‘When humbly labouring for my Lord,

Faint grows the heart and weak the limb,

What strength and joy are in the words,

“This is for Him!”

’Tis sweet to spend our strength for Him.

 

‘I hope for ever to abide

Where dwell the radiant Seraphim;

Delivered, pardoned, glorified;

But ’tis through Him!

All light and glory flow from Him.

 

‘Then welcome be the hour of death,

When Nature’s lamp burns low and dim,

If I can cry with dying breath,

“I go to Him!”

For Life Eternal flows from Him.’

 

TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER.

 

‘_Feb. 11, 1862._

 

‘I have read your touching account of your most sorely

afflicted friend with great interest. I visit the Imbecile

Ward,[9] and I fear that she must be in the Insane Ward; but I

will be sure to make inquiries, and perhaps I may find that I

can follow her thither. I am not timid. Very very glad should I

be to impart any comfort in such a case of awful distress; but

I fear that she may not understand even sympathy.’

 

TO THE SAME.

 

‘_Feb. 26, 1862._

 

‘I went to our afflicted friend.... I talked to her as

comfortingly as I could, and told her that I thought this sad

trial might be sent that she might be like Christiana, walking

on a Heavenward path, with all her children with her. I was

glad to draw forth one or two tears, for tearless anguish is

the most terrible. She said that she prayed the Lord to take

her. I did not think that a good prayer, but suggested that

she should ask the Lord to come to her, as to the disciples

in the storm. She has promised to repeat the two very little

prayers, “Lord, come to me”; and “Lord, make my children Thine,

for Jesus’ sake.” It was touching to hear her repeating softly,

again and again,--“Make me Thine! make me Thine!”’

 

TO THE SAME.

 

‘_March 25, 1862._

 

‘Though still very low to-day, Mrs. ---- did not seem to me

to be inaccessible to religious comfort. I fancied that there

was a little lightening of the darkness.... I do not know of

anything that she wants. I have supplied her with working

materials. Perhaps a little book with pictures in it is as good

as anything, as amusing without fatiguing the mind.... I know the

beautiful large texts that you allude to; but I do not know

where they could well be fixed in the Insane Ward. They are

more, I think, for the bedridden.’

 

TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘GRESFORD, _Sept. 13, 1863_.

 

‘I thought of you as I stood on the soft green slope down

to the water, and looked on the bright little stream, with

its white foam sparkling in the sunlight. How much of its

beauty it owes to the pebbles that fret it; and how much of

its rapidity to the fall in its course. But in our lives, how

we--at least I--shrink from the pebbles! How we would fain have

all glassy smooth,--though Nature itself teaches us that then

it would become stagnant. The “sea of glass” is for another

world....

 

‘I sometimes think that consoling is one of the most delightful

employments given to God’s servants. It is pleasanter than

teaching; far far more so than reproving others, or struggling

against evil, or examining our own hearts. You were a comfort

to poor dear ----, and I dare say that the sense of being so

lightened your own trial of parting. I would give a _great

deal_ to have your influence with ----; but the Almighty has

not been pleased to grant me this. Perhaps He will some day.’

 

TO THE SAME.

 

‘_July 29, 1864._