Various
Excellent Women
VI.
THE MINISTRY OF SONG
We may turn aside for a short time before we consider the last eventful weeks of Frances Ridley Havergal's sojourn upon earth, to deal with a subject that has been but lightly touched upon, namely, her ministry of song.
She had inherited from her gifted father a great talent for music. She was a remarkably skilful performer upon the pianoforte. So retentive was her memory that she could play without notes a large portion of the works of Handel, Beethoven and Mendelssohn.
Her musical compositions were of a very high order. When she was thirty years of age she went, while at Cologne, to show some of her compositions to Ferdinand Hiller. After looking through them and learning that she had had no instruction in harmony, he expressed his surprise and delivered his verdict, the worst part first.
He said her melodies bore the stamp of talent, not of genius. "But as to your harmonies," he said to her, "I must say I am astonished. It is something singular to find such a grasp of the subject, such power of harmonisation except where there has been long and thorough study and instruction; here I can give almost unlimited praise." She told him her question was, had she talent enough to make it worth while to devote herself to music as a serious thing, as a life-work? He answered, "Sincerely and unhesitatingly I can say that you have."
How spontaneous was her musical and poetical genius will be seen from the account of the genesis of her well-known missionary hymn and tune, "Tell it out among the heathen." She was unable to go to church at Winterdyne one snowy morning in 1873. She asked for her Prayer-book while still in bed, as she always liked to follow the services for the day. On Mr. Shaw, her brother-in-law, returning from church, he heard the piano sounding. "Why, Frances," he said, "I thought you were upstairs." "Yes, but I had my Prayer-book, and in the Psalm for to-day I read, 'Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King.' I thought what a splendid first line; and then the words and music came rushing on to me. There, it's all written out." She had written it out, the words and music and harmonies complete. And her sister remarks: "Only those who heard her could imagine the brisk ringing tone with which she sang this tune."
In her "Consecration Hymn" occurs the couplet—
"Take my voice and let me sing Always only for my King."
And to her these were no mere words of a song. She tried to consecrate all her singing to God's service. It was a real ministry. She strove always to sing the very words of the Bible, as she observed that persons could not with decency object to them, though they might have done so to her own words.
During a sojourn in Switzerland she was anxious to reach the people she saw wending their way to early mass. On learning that she would sing to them, many promised to come to her pension. She says, "First I sang to them, and then got the girls to join in the hymn which they had [previously] copied out. Then I read some passages…. A few went away when I read…. You will wonder what I sang! Well, I had been singing snatches of hymns to myself and especially 'Only for Thee,' and found this gave immense gratification in our little pension; so I thought God could as well give me French as English if He would, and I set to and wrote 'Seulement pour Toi!' (as they had liked the tune so much). Only it is quite a different hymn, making prominent the other side, He and He only is and does all for us." This hymn thus written was of good service on another occasion. On the way from Chamounix to Great St. Bernard Hospice, some of the passengers in the diligence sang French songs remarkably well. Her sister says: "We listened and commended, and then asked if they would join us in a new tune, 'Seulement pour Toi!' Finding the driver took up the chorus in bass, Frances went outside that he might see the words, and most heartily was it sung by all!"
The following Sunday was spent at the hospice; and once again was her musical talent used in proclaiming the Master's message. Her brilliant touch upon the piano attracted the attention of the "fathers" in the monastery, and they begged her to sing after dinner. She asked her sister to join in prayer that the King's message might be given, and that it might search some hearts. As there were different nationalities present, she very simply but gracefully said she was going to sing from the Holy Scriptures, repeating the words in German and Italian, and then sang Handel's "Comfort ye," "He shall feed His flock," and afterwards, "Rest in the Lord." An Italian professor of music, with many others, thanked her, and were expressing their admiration to her sister, when Frances bade them "good night," remarking to her sister, "You see, Marie, I gave my message, and so it is better to come away."
An instance illustrating the singing powers and also the friendliness of this sweet singer is recorded by Rev. S.B. James, D.D., in his Frances Ridley Havergal, a Lecture Sermon.12 "After a garden-party in Somersetshire where she had almost exhausted herself, she happened to overhear her hostess's regret that the servants had not been present. 'Oh, if it is work for the Master,' she exclaimed, 'of course I can do it.' And though she had been just stung by a bee upon the hand, and was suffering intense pain, she threw off hat and gloves, took her seat eagerly at the piano, and … impressed a whole retinue of servants with the beautiful piece from the Messiah, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' And when it was all done she stood up and said, 'Now I am going to tell you what you must do when you have yourselves accepted the invitation,' and she sang out before that humble spell-bound audience, 'Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King.' … One person at least was turned to righteousness on that musical afternoon."
The ministry of song of F.R. Havergal will chiefly be remembered, however, by the goodly heritage of poetry which she has left to the Church of Christ, and in which she being dead yet speaketh. Here it is that her great influence is still felt. She had the happy gift of expressing the deep breathings of the consecrated soul in whole-hearted loyalty to the blessed Master. She strove to regard the Lord Jesus as a real living and personal Friend. She longed to be entirely yielded up to His service, and she put the thoughts of her heart, which had been warmed by the indwelling Spirit, in real and genuine expressions of love to and praise of her Master.
She began writing verses when she was only seven years of age.
In 1860 her poetry was so much appreciated that she received applications from the editors of various religions magazines to supply poetical contributions. In 1803 she received her first cheque of £10 17s. 6d. This she sent to her father: £10 for anything he liked to employ it on, 10s. for the Scripture Readers' collection, and 7s. 6d. for any similar emergency.
Her hymn "I gave my life for thee" first appeared in Good Words. It was written in Germany in 1858. She had come in weary and sat down opposite a picture with this motto. At once the lines flashed upon her and she wrote them in pencil on a scrap of paper. Reading them over, they did not satisfy her. She tossed them into the fire, but they fell out untouched. Showing them some months after to her father, he encouraged her to preserve them, and wrote the tune "Baca" especially for them.
The origin of the well-known hymn, 'Take my Life,' she thus describes—"I went for a little visit of five days. There were ten persons in the house, some unconverted and long prayed for, some converted, but not rejoicing Christians. He gave me the prayer, 'Lord, give me all in this house.' And He just did! Before I left the house, every one had got a blessing. The last night of my visit I was too happy to sleep, and passed most of the night in praise and renewal of my own consecration, and these little couplets formed themselves, and chimed in my heart one after another, till they finished with 'Ever, ONLY, ALL, for Thee.'"
Some six months before she died she wrote thus about this hymn, "I had a great time early this morning, renewing the never-regretted consecration. I seemed led to run over the 'Take my Life,' and could bless Him verse by verse for having led me on to much more definite consecration than even when I wrote it—voice, gold, intellect, etc. But the eleventh couplet—"
'Take my love—my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store'—
"that has been unconsciously not filled up. Somehow, I felt mystified and out of my depth here; it was a simple and definite thing to be done, to settle the voice, or silver and gold; but 'love?' I have to love others, and I do; and I've not a small treasure of it; and even loving in Him does not quite meet the inner difficulty…. I shall just go forward and expect Him to fill it up, and let my life from this day answer really to that couplet. The worst part to me is that I don't in practice prove my love to Him, by delight in much and long communion with Him; hands and head seem so full of other things' (which yet are His given work), that 'heart' seems not 'free to serve' in fresh and vivid love."
In writing her hymns, F.R. Havergal looked up to God to give her the ideas and words, and they were often produced very rapidly. Mr. Snepp of Perry Bar left her leaning against a wall while he went in to visit the boys' school, and on his return ten minutes afterwards she handed him the well-known hymn "Golden harps are sounding," pencilled upon an old envelope.
A remarkable fact is recorded in connection with another hymn entitled, "Reality, Reality, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me." She was much struck with the expression used by a working man in a prayer-meeting—"Father, we know the reality of Jesus Christ." This thought took hold of her and found expression in this hymn on a stormy night at Whitby, after she had seen the life-boat put forth to a wreck, hence the expressions, "Pilot," "Lifeboat," and "Haven." The very night she wrote the hymn, a young Christian four hundred miles away was pleading at a prayer-meeting, "Lord Jesus, let Thy dear servant write for us what Thou art, Thou living, bright Reality, and let her do it this very night." "While they are yet speaking, I will hear."
Space does not permit any detailed account of her poetry. Her's were specially songs of the inner life. She revealed in her poetic works her own inner experience, and a perusal of them will give indications of her own growth in holiness.
A reader is impressed not only with the ease and brightness of her style, but with her firm grasp of things unseen. Her poetry was not just stringing together words, but it was the very expression of her heart. She thus writes on this point in The Ministry of Song:
"Poetry is not a trifle,
Lightly thought and lightly made;
Not a fair and scentless flower,
Gaily cultured for an hour,
Then as gaily left to fade.
'Tis not stringing rhymes together,
In a pleasant true accord;
Not the music of the metre,
Not the happy fancies sweeter
Than a flower-bell honey-stored.
'Tis the essence of existence,
Rarely rising to the light;
And the songs that echo longest,
Deepest, fullest, truest, strongest,
With your life-blood you must write."
So did the sweet singer herself write from her own experience.
Her hymns, which are very numerous, no less than seventy being in common use, have been the means not only of arresting the undecided and helping the saint, but of consoling the suffering and the doubting. So many of her poems were the expressions of a bright faith and simple trust shining out through storm and cloud, that others, storm-tossed and beclouded, catch the rays and are cheered thereby.
Although many of the poems are in a plaintive minor tone there are occasional bursts of more cheerful strain, as in the lines on "A Merrie Christmas," which appeared in the Sunday at Home.
"A Merrie Christmas to you!
For we serve the Lord with mirth.
And we carol forth glad tidings
Of our holy Saviour's birth.
So we keep the olden greeting,
With its meaning deep and true,
And wish a Merrie Christmas
And a Happy New Year to you.
Oh, yes! 'a Merrie Christmas,'
With blithest song and smile,
Bright with the thought of Him who dwelt
On earth a little while,
That we might dwell for ever
Where never falls a tear:
So 'a Merrie Christmas' to you,
And a Happy, Happy Year!"
The beautiful and aptly chosen titles alone in many cases are most suggestive and refreshing. Yes, Frances R. Havergal's power of giving expression to holy aspiration and Christian loyalty and heartfelt praise will live as long as English Hymnology lives.
VII.
"SEEING THE KING."
We come now to describe the closing months of this devoted life. Her sister recalls that the New Year's greeting given to her on January 1, 1879. was, "'He crowneth the year with His goodness,' and He crowneth me 'with loving-kindness and tender mercies.' You, dear Marie, are one of my mercies; and I do hope He will let me do something for you up in heaven."
The following subjects of prayer for 1878-79, found in her Bible, will not only illustrate her method of petition, but will be helpful to other Christians longing to excel in supplication.
"I have greatly enjoyed the regular praying of the Lord's Prayer, and take a petition each morning in the week. Intercession for others I generally make at evening. I take the fruits of the Holy Spirit in the same way and find this helpful."
GENERAL
MORNING
For the Holy Spirit.
Perfect trust all day.
Watchfulness.
To be kept from sin.
That I may please Him.
Guidance, growth and grace.
That I may do His will.
That He may use my mind, lips, pen, all.
Blessing and guidance in each engagement and interview of the day.
EVENING
For forgiveness and cleansing.
Mistakes overruled.
Blessing on all said, written and done.
For conformity to His will and Christ's likeness.
That His will may be done in me.
For a holy night.
Confession.
For every one for whom I have been specially asked to pray.
SPECIAL SUBJECTS
SUNDAY
That I may make the most of Sabbath hours and gain much from the Word.
Deliverance from wandering thoughts. Pure praise. Blessing on services and choir.
Hallowed be Thy name.
Intercessions. (Initials of many clergymen, of her brother, her god-children, and "our servants.")
MONDAY—"For joy and peace."
That the life of Jesus may be manifest in me.
Thy kingdom come
Intercession for Church Missionary Society and Irish Society. (Initials of her eldest sister, all her family, and "Oakhampton servants.")
TUESDAY—"For longsuffering"
That my unconscious influence may be all for Him.
Thy will be done.
Intercession for Mildmay (and initials of her brother Henry's children and many Leamington friends).
'WEDNESDAY—"Gentleness."
For spirit of prayer and shadowless communion.
Give us this day our daily bread.
Intercession for the universities and public schools, for many friends, for M.V.G.H., and E.C.
THURSDAY—"Goodness."
For much fruit to His praise. Soul-winning. Spirit of praise.
Forgive us our trespasses.
Local work. Swansea and Mrs. Morgan. For my sister Ellen, all at Winterdyne, "and the servants."
FRIDAY—"Faith."
Wisdom to be shown more of His will and commands.
Lead us not into temptation.
For my brother and all at Upton Bishop.
SATURDAY—"Meekness and Temperance."
That the Word of Christ may dwell in me richly, open treasure of Thy Word to me, fill my seed-basket.
Deliver us from evil..
For the Church of England and the Queen. (Initials of many friends.)
A plan of work for 1879—"If the Lord will"—was sketched out, but it was not the Lord's will that it should he accomplished, and many subjects were not even attempted.
On her return from London in the early part of the year, her friends noticed the peculiar gladness of her service. She said one morning to her sister, "Marie, it is really very remarkable how everything I do seems to prosper and nourish. There is my 'Bruey Branch' growing and increasing, and now the temperance work, and so many letters tell me that God is blessing my little books."
The "Bruey Branch" here mentioned was an effort to get children to interest themselves in the Irish Society, and met with signal success. It had been started two years previously with eight collectors—now hundreds of collecting cards had gone out.
Of her temperance work she writes a little later: "May, 1879. I haven't taken up teetotal work, but teetotal work has taken up me! Morgan and Scott made me accept a big handsome pledge-book in February, and somehow the thing has fairly caught fire here. One led to another, and yesterday boys were coming all day to sign. I had twenty-five recruits yesterday alone, and a whole squad more are coming this evening! and we are going in for getting EVERY boy in the whole village! and now 'Please, miss, mayn't girls sign?' So I've got to open a girls' branch as well! So work grows!" Again, "Really a wonderful little temperance work here; all the rising generation have joined the pledge except about twelve, and now the men want to speak to me and I am to meet them to-night at the corner of the village (open air, having no place else) with my pledge-book. I have got 118 pledged, and each with prayer over it and personal talk about better things." On May 21 she met these men, carrying with her her Bible and temperance book. While standing, heavy clouds came up, and she was obliged to return home, wet and chilly, though some men were still waiting to speak to her. The next day (Thursday) she managed to get to church and received the Lord's Supper. She was very tired with the service, and rode home on a donkey. As she passed through the village, quite a procession of her boys followed her. She urged her donkey boy to "leave the devil's side and get on the safe side; that Jesus Christ was the winning side; that He loved him, and was calling him, and wouldn't he choose Him for his Captain?" Arrived at home, she ran in for her temperance book, and the boy signed it on the saddle. That evening she spoke to several persons with intense earnestness and pleading.
The next day she was to have attended a temperance meeting and have presented 150 cards to those who had signed her book; but the chilliness increased, and the doctor forbade her to go out. Unable to be present herself, she sent two messages by her sister: one to those who had signed—"Behold, God Himself is … our Captain;"13 to those who had not signed—"Come thou with us and we will do thee good."14 —While the meeting was going on she was busy at home stitching strong paper tract-bags for sailors at sea, till she felt ill and had to be assisted to her room.
On May 26 she was able to correct the proof of Morning Stars, on the text, "I am the bright and morning Star;" and then, as her sister says, the pen so long used in the service of her King was laid down. The last passage she looked at in her Bible was the Christian Progress chapter for May 28.15 She asked that it might be read to her, and dwelt on "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." On the 29th fever and internal inflammation rapidly came on, and she exhibited all the symptoms of peritonitis. She suffered very severe pain; but though the outward man was perishing, the inward man was being renewed. On May 30, speaking of justification by faith, she said, "Not for our own works or deservings; oh, what vanity it seems now to rest on our own obedience for salvation, any merit of our own takes away the glory of the atoning blood. 'Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood'—that's it." When asked if she had any fear, she replied, "Why should I? Jesus said, 'It is finished;' and what was His precious blood shed for? I trust that."
On Whit-Sunday she was better, and able to converse a little with her brother and sister. On the following day at early dawn she made the remark, "'Spite of the breakers, Marie, I am so happy. God's promises are so true. Not a fear." At 8 A.M. it was thought she was departing. The Lord's Supper was administered at her request, and when it was over she whispered to her brother, "Frank dear, it is not the performance of the rite, no safety in that; but it is obedience to His command, and as a remembrance of His dying love." When the doctor told her she would soon be going home, she exclaimed. "Beautiful! too good to be true!… Oh! it is the Lord Jesus that is so dear to me, I can't tell how precious! how much He has been to me!" Afterwards she asked for "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds!"
To the vicar of Swansea, who visited her, she said, "Oh! I want all of you to speak bright, bright words about Jesus, oh, do, do! It is all perfect peace. I am only waiting for Jesus to take me in."
Her sufferings were very acute, and when told how patient she had been that even the doctors noticed it, she replied, "Oh! I am so glad you tell me this. I did want to glorify Him every step of the way, and especially in this suffering. I hope none of you will have five minutes of this pain."
On Tuesday, June 3, she was evidently worse. Among the words she uttered were these: "I am lost in amazement! There hath not failed one word of all His promise!" Mentioning the names of many dear ones, she said, "I want all to come to me in heaven; oh! don't, don't disappoint me; tell them, 'Trust Jesus.'" When one of her sisters repeated the words of the hymn, "Jesus, I will trust Thee," she sang the verse right through to her tune "Hermas." Violent sickness ensued, and when it was over she folded her hands on her heart, saying, "There, now it is all over! Blessed rest!"
Her sister thus describes the glorious sunset of her life on June 3, 1879, at the age of 42: "And now she looked up steadfastly as if she saw the Lord; and surely nothing less heavenly could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon her face. For ten minutes we watched that almost visible meeting with her King, and her countenance was so glad, as if she were already talking to Him. Then she tried to sing, but after one sweet high note—'HE—,' her voice failed, and as her brother commended her soul into her Redeemer's hand, she passed away. Our precious sister was gone, satisfied, glorified, within the palace of her King." And so she fell asleep, and her eyes saw the King in His beauty—that King of whom she sung so sweetly and wrote so loyally. On June 9 they laid her body to rest in the quiet churchyard of Astley Church in Worcestershire.
And thus within sight of the room which saw her birth, her body lies "until the day dawn."