On August 15, 1850, Frances went to school at Belmont. The night before she left, her sister Ellen spoke to her of God's love, and she gave to her the first indication of her real feelings in the words, "I can't love God yet, Nellie!" But it was not to be so for long, however. During the first half-year at school a "revival," as she calls it, took place among the school girls, and she began to be more in earnest about her soul. One night she got into conversation with a Christian companion, and bursting into tears told her in French that she wished to love Jesus but could not. Her companion begged her to go to Jesus and tell Him this. Of this advice she says, "The words of wise and even eminent men have since then fallen on my ear, but few have brought the dewy refreshment to my soul which the simple loving words of my little Heaven-taught schoolfellow did." But peace had not yet come into her soul.
At length, in February, 1851, Frances made a confidante of Miss Cook, who in July, 1851, became her stepmother, and confessed that she desired pardon of her sins above everything else. She thus writes in her autobiography: "'Then, Fanny,' said Miss Cook, 'I think, I am sure, it will not be very long before your desire is granted, your hope fulfilled." After a few more words, she said, "Why cannot you trust yourself to your Saviour at once? Supposing that now, at this moment, Christ were to come in the clouds of heaven, and take up His redeemed, could you not trust Him? Would not His call, His promise be enough for you? Could you not commit your soul to Him, to your Saviour, Jesus?' Then came a flash of hope across me which made me feel literally breathless. I remember how my heart beat. 'I could surely,' was my response; and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs to think it out. I flung myself on my knees in my room, and strove to realise the sudden hope. I was very happy at last. I could commit my soul to Jesus. I did not and need not fear His coming. I could trust Him with my all for eternity. It was so utterly new to have any bright thoughts about religion that I could hardly believe it could be so, that I really had gained such a step. Then and there I committed my soul to the Saviour—I do not mean to say without any trembling or fear, but I did—and earth and heaven seemed bright from that moment—I did trust the Lord Jesus."
In August, 1851, she went to school at Powick Court, near Worcester; but, owing to severe erysipelas in her face and head, she soon had to leave, and was ordered by the doctor to discontinue all study. She spent some time in Wales, and learnt Welsh very quickly. In November, 1852, she went with her parents to Germany, and attended school, standing alone as a follower of the Saviour among one hundred and ten girls. She progressed very rapidly in her studies. Though as a rule no girl was numbered in order of merit unless she had learnt everything (and she, through lack of time, had not done so), yet at the end of the term on the prize-giving day, when the names were called out, she heard with unspeakable pleasure the words, "Frances Havergal, numero eins!" (number one). The "Engländerin's" papers and conduct were so good that the masters agreed in council assembled to break through the rule for once and give her the place she deserved.
Her German master at Obercassel, Pastor Schulze-Berge, thus wrote of her: "She showed from the first such application, such rare talent, such depth of comprehension, that I can only speak of her progress as extraordinary. She acquired such a knowledge of our most celebrated authors in a short time as even German ladies attain only after much longer study."
She returned to England with her parents in December, 1853. On July 17, 1854, she was confirmed in Worcester Cathedral. In her case this public profession was a very real act. When asked by the bishop the solemn question to which all have audibly to answer, "I do," the reply of her heart was, "Lord, I cannot without Thee; but oh, with Thy almighty help, I do." In the cathedral she composed the lines with which this sketch begins. She always kept very solemnly the anniversary of this day.
She continued her German, French and English studies, and wrote many small pieces of poetry, the proceeds of which she gave to the Church Missionary Society. In the summer of 1856 she studied Hebrew very diligently; her knowledge and remembrance of the words of Scripture were very remarkable; she learnt the whole of the Gospels, Epistles, Revelation, the Psalms, and Isaiah, and later she added the Minor Prophets to the list.
While she thus grew in knowledge she grew also in grace. In August, 1859, she wrote: "I have lost that weary bondage of doubt and almost despair which chained me for so many years. I have the same sins and temptation as before, and I do not strive against them more than before, and it is often just as hard work. But whereas I could not see why I should be saved, I now cannot see why I should not be saved if Christ died for all. On that word I take my stand, and rest there. I still wait for the hour when I believe He will reveal Himself to me more directly; but it is the quiet waiting of present trust, not the restless waiting of anxiety and danger." That hour, in God's good time, did come.
In 1860 Canon Havergal resigned the rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester, and Frances had to give up a class of unruly lads which she had taught with much success, one of the class becoming a minister of the Church of England, and another a Scripture-reader. The family removed to the country parish of Shareshill.
In 1861 Frances K. Havergal made her home at Oakhampton, the residence of her sister, and undertook the instruction of her two nieces. Her aim in teaching them was to fit them for eternity, but she did not fail to throw herself into their amusements and recreations, which she took up with her accustomed earnestness.
In the winter of 1865-66 F.R. Havergal visited her friends in Germany, and spent some time with her parents at Bonn. In 1806 her nieces went to school, and Frances left Oakhampton to reside at home.
Once again she confesses the presence of clouds on the horizon of her faith. "In reading, when one's heart leaps at some precious promise made to the children of God, a cold check comes, 'Am I one of them? what is my title?' Answer: 'Ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ.' Have I faith? Once introduce that I, and you get bewildered between faith and feeling. When I go on and grapple with the difficulty, it comes to this. As far as I know, I have come to Jesus, not once but many times. I have knelt and literally prostrated myself before Him, and told Him all, I have no other hope but what His written word says He did and said, that I know it is true, that the salvation it tells of is just what I want, and all I want, and that my heart goes out to it, and that I do accept it; that I do not fully grasp it, but I cling to it; that I want to be His only and entirely, now and for ever."
On September 23, 1867, she joined the Young Women's Christian Association, and found great benefit from her membership. She showed her practical interest in the Church Missionary and Irish Societies by wishing to give lessons in singing and German, the proceeds of which these societies were to have.
On April 19, 1870, she was called upon to part with her beloved father, after a short illness. In one of her poems she speaks of his
"Valiant cry, a witness strong and clear,
A trumpet with no dull uncertain sound."
Soon after his death she prepared for the press Havergal's Psalmody, which was afterwards largely used in the compiling of the Rev C. B. Snepp's hymn-book, called Songs of Grace and Glory, for which, she herself wrote several hymns. In June, 1871, she accompanied her friend Elizabeth Clay on a visit to Switzerland; there she thoroughly enjoyed the Alpine climbing, and revelled in the grand scenery of Mont Blanc and other snow mountains. On a subsequent visit Mont Blanc was ascended as far as the Grand Mulets. Here her delight in the exhilarating exercise of glissading landed her in a danger which, but for the presence of mind of Mr. Snepp, must have ended fatally to herself and one of the guides.
We have now reached a time when Frances Ridley Havergal made a marked advance in spiritual life. It was the close of 1873. She received one day by post a little book entitled All for Jesus. She thus wrote about it to the clergyman who sent it to her: "All for Jesus has touched me very much…. I know I love Jesus, and there are times when I feel such intensity of love to Him that I have no words to describe it. I rejoice too in Him as my 'Master' and 'Sovereign;' but I want to come nearer still, to have the full realisation of John xiv. 21—['He that hath My commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me; and he that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father, and I will love him, and manifest Myself to him']—and to know the power of His resurrection,' even if it be with 'the fellowship of His sufferings;' and all this, not exactly for my own joy alone, but for others."
In reply to a letter from the clergyman, she wrote:9 "I know I am not standing where I was two or three years ago. I think I first came to Jesus when I was only fourteen years of age, and I have been 'on the Lord's side' ever since. But of late, life has been a totally different thing to me, unspeakably brighter; Jesus so infinitely more precious: His service so infinitely sweeter and freer." But with this happiness she felt that there was a fuller consecration to God's service, to which she had not yet been able to yield herself. In a further communication her correspondent reminded her of the truth that Jesus is able to keep us from falling, and abiding in Him, His blood cleanseth, i.e. goes on cleansing from all sin. "For conscious sin there is instant confession and instant forgiveness."
These words, though so simple, were made by the Holy Spirit a great comfort and help to her spiritual life. She replied,10 "I see it all, and I have the blessing. But I cannot write about it yet, not even to you. I want first to test my gold and to count my new treasure. In two or three weeks (b.v.) I will write and tell you all about it."
The promised letter was duly sent, and in it she says,11 "Your words, 'His blood goes on cleansing from unconscious sin,' and 'for conscious sin there is instant confession and instant forgiveness,' seem to include every need, and to settle all doubts and fears. Only one wants the holiness to be deep, inner reality: and so, I pray to be kept from unconscious, as well as from conscious sin. I do not want only to think I am not sinning. It is so sweet to look up to Jesus, in the joy of His keeping, and to tell Him how one longs, not merely not to grieve Him any more, but to please, really and truly please Him, all the days of my life. I had no idea there was such a blessing linked with being led into this truth." In a further letter she writes, "I never hated sin as I do now; and though I honestly thought I had given myself without reserve to Christ in full consecration, yet I see that there was an unconscious reserve of many little things."
The practical effect of this fuller insight into the blessings to be had by those who yield themselves up to Jesus Christ in simple faith, "was evident," remarks her sister, "in her daily true-hearted, whole-hearted service for her King, and also in the increased joyousness of the unswerving obedience of her home life, the surest test of all. To the reality of this I do most willingly and fully testify."
In 1874 F.R. Havergal went again to Switzerland. The first month of the visit was spent in quietly enjoying the scenery, and becoming braced up by the invigorating air. During the second month she began working at various literary projects, the chief being the writing of her poem "Thoughts of God." The composition of this was often, however, interrupted by little acts of ministry, cheerfully undertaken on behalf of the spiritual needs of the Swiss around her.
She returned from Switzerland in good health, and resumed her active work at home. At one time it was helping a young friend into light and peace; at another, it was making an appointment to break her journey at Willesden Station, to talk with some one in trouble. For "it will be worth ANY fatigue if I can comfort her," was her unselfish remark. Amid so much activity, little could she have anticipated what was so soon to befall her.
The journey was broken as arranged, though Frances R. Havergal was by that time very ill. Through some mistake she waited an hour and a half before the friend came, and then took her with her some miles so that they might not lose the longed-for interview. When home was reached, she was seized with shivering, fever set in and was pronounced to be typhoid fever. In the middle of November, 1874, it was thought her end was near. But prayer, continued and earnest, was made that her valuable life might be spared, and God graciously heard and answered, and brought her back from the gates of death. When asked afterwards if she had any fear of dying, her answer was, "Oh no, not a shadow." "Then was it delightful to think you were going home, dear Fan?" "No, it was not the idea of going home, but that He was coming for me and that I should see my King. I never thought of death as going through the dark valley, or down to the river; it often seemed to me a going up to the golden gates and lying there in the brightness, just waiting for the gate to open for me…. I never before was, so to speak, face to face with death. It was like a look into heaven, and yet when my Father sent me back again, I felt it was His will, and so I could not be disappointed."
In January, 1875, she was removed to Winterdyne, where she heard of the sudden death of her brother Henry. After a few days a relapse set in, and her stepmother was sent for. After the fever had passed away she suffered very severe pain. She remarked to her sister once, "Oh, Marie, if I might but have five minutes' ease from pain! I don't want ever to moan when gentle sister Ellen comes in. How I am troubling you all!"
Health gradually returned to her, and with it she recommenced her active work for the Master.
The Refiner's work in F.R. Havergal was very evident. Of this year's illness and slow convalesence she speaks: "It has been the most precious year of my life to me. It is worth any suffering to prove for oneself the truth of 'when thou passest through the waters I will be with thee,' and worth being turned back (as it seemed) from the very golden gates if one may but 'tell of all His faithfulness.' It is so real."
"For two or three weeks [during my illness]," she writes again, "I was too prostrate for any consecutive prayer, or for even a text to be given me; and this was the time for realising what 'silent in love' meant (Zeph. iii. 17). And then it seemed doubly sweet when I was again able to 'hold converse' with Him. He seemed too so often to send answers from His own word with wonderful power. One evening (after a relapse) I longed so much to be able to pray, but found I was too weak for the least effort of thought, and I only looked up and said, 'Lord Jesus, I am so tired!' and then He brought to my mind 'rest in the Lord' with its lovely marginal reading, 'be silent_ in the Lord;' and so I just was silent to Him, and He seemed to overflow me with perfect peace, in the sense of His own perfect love."
When she was at length well enough to resume her literary work again, she busied herself in preparing an Appendix with music to Songs of Grace and Glory. She had completed it and sent it to the printers, and was hoping to be able to commence a book which she had contemplated writing, when she had the disappointing news that a fire at the printers' had destroyed the stereotype plates and paper as well as the MS.; and as she had kept no copy of the tunes, all her work had to be done over again. This "turned lesson," as she regarded it, was accepted with beautiful patience.
After a visit to Newport, Monmouth, followed by one to Ashley Moor, she spent some time in Switzerland. Here her quiet work went on among tourists and invalids, as well as Swiss. It was on this visit to Switzerland that she began the friendship with Baroness Helga V. Cramm, whose painted cards blend so beautifully with her words.
Towards the end of August, symptoms of her illness recurred, and she had not strength to return to England until October. It was on her journey back that the idea of her book My King came to her. It was, says her sister, at Oxford station on the way to Winterdyne. "I thought Frances was dozing when she exclaimed, with that herald flash in her eye, 'Marie! I see it all; I can write a little book, My King;' and rapidly went through divisions for thirty-one chapters."
The writer of this short biography may here refer to a never-to-be-forgotten hour that he spent with Frances R. Havergal. He had sent her some lines suggested by this little book, of which she most kindly expressed her approval, and naturally the book My King formed the subject of conversation, and she expressed her gratitude that she had been led to write this and other of her books in chapters for each day in the month; "for," said she, "they are read through in many cases twelve times a year instead of being perused once and thrown aside."
The year 1877 was passed uneventfully in paying various visits to relatives. But though uneventfully spent, not by any means idly or unprofitably, for her time was fully occupied with literary work.
A little later on we get a glimpse of this busy worker in another sphere. She had gone to Mildmay Park for rest.
"68, Mildmay Park, October, 1877.
"I was going away on Saturday, but caught cold at the quarterly meeting of the Association of Female Workers, … so I resigned myself to an extra week here; and verily, they do know how to nurse, and what's more (!) how to keep you quiet. Also, they do know how to pray! I have learned a little, I hope, on that subject this last week. What I hear and see here is quite a new light on intercessory prayer. I thought I knew something of its power and reality, but I see I did not know much.
"Mrs. Pennefather took me (before my cold) to Clapton House. I only wish every girl I care for was there; such a beautiful Christian school. I got any amount of bright looks (as it seems they knew my books), and I wanted exceedingly to go among them. Hearing the Principal say she would be prevented taking their Bible class, I ventured the proposal to take it. Afterwards, I had about a dozen all to myself in the drawing-room for a talk with any that wanted special help. They were told to get chairs. 'Oh!' I said, 'don't sit all in a row a long way off; come up close and cosy; we can talk ever so much better then, can't we?' You should have seen how charmed they were, and clustered niece-fashion all round me. We did have such a sweet hour; it was rather after the 'question-drawer' manner; but all their little questions and difficulties seemed summed up by one of them, 'we do so want to come closer to Jesus.'"
As a help to her reading of the Bible, Frances R. Havergal joined the "Christian Progress Scripture Reading Union," conducted by her friend Rev. Ernest Boys, for whose magazine she acted, on one occasion, as editor during his absence. An amusing letter details her difficulties as editor, and she came out of them having formed this conclusion, "Never, except as an act of sheer mercy and pity, will I be an editor." This Reading Union was a great help to her own spiritual life, and also to her dealing with others, as the following sentences in a letter to the writer bears witness. "Not long ago I got five of my elder sister's servants to join, all Christians, but easy-going ones, and the result astonished me! It led to quite a revival of their spiritual life, and to reading together and speaking together, and to others; and I have since had a most beautiful letter from them full of gratitude for the great blessing which God had given them through joining. Anything to get people to read His Word! I find it continual help in corresponding with or meeting those who have joined, and any to whom God has let me be spiritually helpful are invariably delighted at the idea of reading with me. It is training many young Christians into regular reading."
On May 26, 1878, F. R. Havergal's stepmother passed away. This event broke up their Leamington home, and Frances and her sister spent some time in the quiet of the Mumbles near Swansea. They then went to stay at a farmhouse in Herefordshire, where, among other forms of work for the Master, she, ever thoughtful of others, interpreted on her fingers to the man of the house, who was quite deaf, the sermons she heard. It was here that she wrote her poem entitled Zenith.
The breaking up of the Leamington home she thought afforded a good opportunity of practically carrying out her dedication of her silver and gold to God's service. She had hoped to devote herself to missionary work, but her health prevented this being realised, so she sent off all her ornaments, including a valuable jewel-case, to the Church Missionary House in London, to be disposed of for missionary work. "I retain," she says, "only a brooch or two for daily wear, which are memorials of my dear parents; also a locket with the only portrait I have of my niece in heaven, my Evelyn; and her 'two rings' mentioned in Under the Surface. But these I redeem, so that the whole value goes to the Church Missionary Society. I had no idea I had such a jeweller's shop, nearly fifty articles are being packed off. I don't think I need tell you I never packed a box with such pleasure."
Towards the end of the year she joined her sister at the Mumbles. Here she could be quiet in her "workshop," the walls of which were adorned with pictures she had arranged herself. On her bookshelf stood her few choice books; the last she read were, The Earth's Formation on Dynamical Principles, by A.J. Ritchie, Goodwin's Works, The Life and Letters of Rev. W. Pennefather, The Upward Gaze by her friend Agnes Giberne, and books by Rev. G. Everard. On her table was her American typewriter; her desk and table-drawers were all methodically arranged. It was at her study table that she read her Bible at seven o'clock in summer and eight in winter, her Hebrew Bible, Greek Testament and Lexicon being at hand. "Sometimes on bitter cold mornings," says her sister, "I begged that she would read with her feet comfortably to the fire, and received the reply, 'But then, Marie, I can't rule my lines neatly; just see what a find I have got! If one only searches, there are such extraordinary things in the Bible.'"
On Christmas-day, 1878, her last Christmas upon earth, she awoke in severe pain, and was ill for some days; but during the time she compiled a set of Christmas and New Year mottoes, which she called Christmas Sunshine and Love and Light for the New Year. She was ordered rest and felt she needed it. One remark as to her unceasing work is very touching:—"I do hope the angels will have orders to let me alone a bit when I first get to heaven." She was learning to use as her daily petition the prayer her mother taught her, "O Lord, prepare me for all Thou art preparing for me;" and this He was doing. By weakness and sickness and by unwearying trust and unwearied labour was she being prepared for that better rest above.