the Indus, where dear Mr. Gordon used to be with me. A few years hence these little beginnings there will be forgotten in the far greater work of our successors. I think often of Luther's words-'Let Luther die but Christ live.' It makes me happy to think that He must reign; the idols He shall utterly abolishall that is false and unreal, not only the hideous images and jujus of the Africans and Hindus 'All shadows from the truth shall fall, And falsehood die in sight of Thee.' I hope Wilfrid will read his Missionary Gleaners to you sometimes. It is mail time, and this letter must take its long journey; so I must not write more or tire you. What more I say must be said to God for you. The next year was a brighter one. Edith obtained a little respite in her sharper suffering, and though the bishop suffered a bereavement in the death of his brother-in-law, Mr. Gregg, the event of chiefest interest in his own immediate circle was of a joyous character, the marriage of his eldest son Cyril to Miss Emily Ballard. I must try once a fortnight, dearest Edith, to send you a line or two of remembrance and sympathy. It saddens me sorely not to get better tidings of you, but I daresay you are sometimes able to say 'Choose Thou for me my friends, My sickness or my health; My poverty or wealth.' And you can be a faithful intercessor, pleading for all you love, and for the work of God and His fellow-creatures everywhere. Miss Elliott says invalids are a great power in the Church of God. .. This evening, 'Christ in you, the hope of glory,' is part of my text: Christ in us as the crucifixion of self and sin, and the resurrection to life, love, and holiness. We had our house (Bishopstowe) broken into last Thursday. Two natives got in and prowled about, and one walked with a lighted candle into the Sisters' room', and when they spoke 1 The Murree Sisters, who as usual were spending their Christmas at Bishopstowe. BURGLARY AT BISHOPSTOWE 163 blew the candle out, and fled through the glass doors, breaking them to pieces. You would have smiled to see us all: two Sisters, Mr. and Mrs. J. and me walking about in our dressinggowns, like ghosts, to see what had been taken; but nothing was carried off but a few little pieces of silk being worked for a bazaar. They did not get to the spoons or money. I have got up early to try to write you a few lines by candlelight, while the birds in this pleasant green garden are trilling their earliest and sweetest songs to greet the Sabbath morn. . . . You must so delight to have Basil with you sometimes, and the use of his strong arms to help you upstairs, still more I pray that the Everlasting Arms may sustain and bear you up that ladder by which angels come and go-the ladder of prayers and answers to prayers above which the Lord Himself stands. I am afraid the carriage Mr. Bickersteth and I travelled in the last two days, drawn by two camels along roads sometimes rough and sometimes smooth, would not quite have suited you, dear child. I hope you have been able to keep up your chair-drives along the smoother roads of Brighton, and that you still look out of your windows on the grand old seas and the distant shipping. I used to like Newton's hymn 'In every object here I see Something, O Lord, that leads to Thee.' I sat a long time in Riwari two days since with a learned old man at his street-door, who tries to bind together in one, two teachings, one of them Hindu and the other Mohammedan, called Vedanta and Soofic philosophies. They both teach that everything is God. I took and read to him a translation I lately made for the Prayer-book of the second long hymn in the Ordination Service on the Holy Spirit, which I commend to you, dearest E., to try to learn, at any rate to read as a prayer. It seems to gather up so prettily and simply what the Bible teaches about the Holy Spirit, about which the great St. Basil wrote so much, after whom our dear Basil was named. The old man seemed quite pleased with the hymn, and I hope it may do him good. I read yesterday a nice passage in St. Bernard on the Canticles on the words (c. ii. 9), 'My beloved standeth behind the wall. He looketh forth at the windows.' This St. B. refers to the Incarnation of our Lord, how He came and looked at us through the windows and lattice of our human nature (what the Hindus call jharoka and jaliyan), knowing and seeing all our sorrows, and taking part in them so as to sympathize. When in bodily pain perhaps this may comfort you also, dearest E., as it does me. I like to think when I am in very great trouble how He felt, and felt for us, in the garden of Gethsemane, as my favourite hymn puts it And in the garden secretly, And on the Cross on high, He taught His brethren, and inspired To suffer and to die.' The day before yesterday our dak carriage broke down; it broke in front, not to the side, so that we were not upset, only we had to wait two hours, 'chewing the cud of patience' on the roadside till something came to pick us up. We were so happy as to have carriages sent both from before and behind to help us on our way at last, reminding us of the words, The Lord shall go before you, and the God of Israel shall be your rereward.' The native officer at a small town behind us sent his own little trap, as we call it, saying that I was his old master at Agra, and he seemed so pleased to be able to help me. But as Mr. Bickersteth wrote for me he was puzzled, for he said he was sure it was not his old master's handwriting! I am afraid no one ever knows how to imitate my handwriting, especially now that my thousands of letters spoil it so, and make it illegible, I fear. It is so sad that you have not the strength to write me a little weekly line as you used to do, but I could not bear to weary you. TO EDITH. April 8 (Easter Eve), 1882. I am just breaking off in the midst of my sermon on the two disciples walking to Emmaus, and Jesus meeting them on the way, and then His making Himself known to them in breaking of bread. I have been so enjoying trying to picture it to myself. I am sure it must have been the Lord's Supper with the Lord Himself for celebrant, ministering to them in a spiritual manner His own broken body. It seems so strange, and yet so sweet and happy to think of. I was wondering whether dear C. ever gives you the holy supper when he comes down to see you. ... I wonder whether you read the little girl's letter to the Queen about her being saved from the assassin and the Queen's answer. I am afraid I have lost the little letter else I would send it; it was such a simple, natural child's letter. It must have been still more delightful when Baruch and the Ethiopian eunuch got special messages from God, the King of all the earth, for themselves. How nice it is to think that both in the Old and New Testaments such notice was taken of Ethiopian eunuchs. ... Some people seem to think that Egypt will be the seat soon of a great struggle between the Mohammedan and the European Christian powers. That would affect us in India very much. . . . The pomegranate crimson blossom is so lovely just now. POMEGRANATES. MAY-DAY. SIMLA 165 I have one just opposite my study window, which I love to look at; I wish you could have it opposite your window. If it is dry I must try to remember to put in a blossom or two, but I fear the crimson blush will be lost. I see that in Ex. xxviii. 33, 34 (I am sorry to say I had to look in Cruden's Concordance, and owe the C. M. S. 2d. at least), the high priest's dress had on the hem of it pomegranates of purple and scarlet, a golden bell and a pomegranate, a golden bell and a pomegranate. I wonder whether it was the flower or the fruit represented on the hem: the most beautiful priest's dress must have been that which the Lord Himself put upon Joshua, when he said to him, 'See, I have taken away the filthy garments from thee, and clothed thee with change of raiment.' I hope, dearest Edith, this may be a bright May Day to you, and of real thankfulness to our Heavenly Father for so far granting you good hope of recovery, beyond what I had ever hoped to hear of. My heart has been full of gladness, and a heavy weight has been lifted indeed. It seems as if the great Physician Himself had come to your house and said, 'I am the Lord that healeth thee.' . . . I read lately of a poor man who swept the street-crossing in London, and when a gentleman condoled with him, he said, 'D'ye think I could go on with this 'ere work all the day long if I didn't often think of the golden streets of the New Jerusalem?' These little stories do me good for myself, and I store them up for the children in the schools. When you get a nice one, do copy it for me, please. I have often to give addresses and distribute prizes. I am afraid does not always find it like feeding lambs to bring her boys into order, but I should not like to be the little boy that recklessly disobeys her, I think he would not come off best. . . . We had my favourite collect at the Saint's Day service to-day, 'Grant us perfectly to know Thy Son Jesus Christ.' I was thinking how much we have to thank St. Thomas for in asking that question, 'How can we know the way?' and so that very, very beautiful answer came, which one is always trying to get to the bottom of and never will, not to all eternity. TO MRS. FRENCH. (Society at Simla.) May 20, 1882. Two large successive dinner parties have closed the last two days; about twenty-six people each evening; and the evening before a party of about fifty at the viceroy's! Is it not sad dissipation? However, each evening has brought its opportunities of trying to say some useful words to young or old, and I do trust our dear Lord does not allow me to have my thoughts scattered over much, and the main objects of my ministry and its chief ends forgotten. It is not likely I can be spared to it many years. Nobody is introduced to anybody, so I have to do my best to introduce myself, and beg people's pardon for so doing, which they usually grant good-naturedly. Last night the four Burmese ambassadors dined and took in young ladies to dinner, who did not seem quite to like it. I don't know what A. would have felt! I took in one of Sir C. B.'s daughters, who seemed quite satisfied to be taken in by a bishop instead of an ambassador, though I told her she ought to have had a younger partner! The Burmese played on the piano, one or two of them at least who had spent years in Paris. Several English officers from Burmah were at dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Fryer, and others. 1 6 May 26. The Queen's birthday ball took place last night. The people at the hotel breakfast were wild about it. The lady next me said she danced twenty times in the night. What a bore it must be!' I said. Oh no! I quite enjoyed it, only my legs ache a little this morning.' I wish she might come to be as active in good works as she is in the dance, poor girl. I had to dine with and on Tuesday; nearly the whole party was of atheists and freethinkers, but I don't know when God has given me such an opportunity of testifying boldly for His truth before gainsayers! It was indeed of His grace and goodness. One man most enthusiastically stood up for Buddhism as far better than Christianity, and the noblest, truest, and holiest religion in the world. Dr. and Mrs. L. and Mr. P. were there, and several others, among them Sir Salar Jung's subordinate ambassador from the Nizam of Hyderabad. Mr. I. told me how interested and surprised the Nizam's envoy was in the discussion, for he thought that English gentlemen never talked about anything but polo. I should not mind any number of dinner parties if such openings for ministerial work occurred. They are obliged to be civil, that is the worst of it, for one escapes the cross in its severest form in that way. Wednesday was the durbar for the Queen's birthday; there must have been sixty or seventy to dinner. I could not get a janpan, so had to ride. It does me great good getting so much riding. To CYRIL. (On his Wedding.) May 26, 1882. After sending off about fourteen letters, with a confirmation of an unusually anxious character this afternoon, and a prayer-meeting with ordination candidates at night, besides an examination paper on Genesis and Ezekiel just finished and despatched, you will understand how hard I find it even to write to you and E. 1 Leading officials at Calcutta. |