Part 11 (2/2)
There is not on earth a dark city's enclosure, Or vast mountain waste, where the traveller may roam, That peace may not soothe with its balmy composure, And love may not bless with the joy of a home!
To her sister.
ULVERSTON, 15th of 9th Month, 1851.
MY BELOVED M.:--
Thy very welcome letter yesterday met me soon, after returning from Swarthmore, where, of course, we had a very different a.s.sembly from yours.
It was very interesting, having been at Pardsey Crags last week, where the thousands had listened to George Fox's preaching, now to see Swarthmore and remember how things used to be when he ”left the north fresh and green;” but G. Fox never saw the meeting-house.
It was built, I believe, after his death, though the inscription ”_Ex dono G.F._” is over the porch. His black-oak chairs stand in the meeting-room, and his two bed-posts are at each side of the foot of the stairs. Swarthmore Hall is an ancient-looking, high farm-house, with stone window-frames, as we have seen it drawn. The Hall, where the meetings used to be held, looks very antique: black-oak panels remain in parts. Judge Fell's study is just inside, and his desk in the window, whence he could hear what pa.s.sed, though he never went to the meetings. The house is in sad repair. It seems strange to lay aside our daily companions, the map and the guide-book, and tarn our backs wholly on the mountain land, for the level and busy plains of England, with their ”daily round and common task.” But I know that the bright and beautiful mountain-scenes will often come again before the mental eye--”long-vanished” beauty that ”refines and paints in brighter hues;” and I hope the pleasure will long be gratefully remembered.
The new home was reached on the 16th, from whence she writes,--
To her sister.
EDGBASTON, 20th of 9th Month, 1851.
MY BELOVED L.:--
* * * I do not like to end this eventful week without trying to send you a few lines. * * * Please tell mother, with my dear, dear love, how very acceptable her note was, and how much I hope that her kind good wishes may be realized, and how frequent a thought of pleasure it has been while we have been setting things in order, that before long I may enjoy to show our little territory to her and father,--to have her kind advice and opinion about my little household. * * * I yet feel as strongly as ever a daughter's love to the home of my childhood. When I think of you, I can fully share in the illusion thou spoke of, fancying that before long I shall be among you just as before. * * *
To her sister, P. Tregolles.
YEW-TREE ROAD, 9th Month, 1851.
* * * I could not have thought I should have felt so easy amongst so many, lately, such strangers; but every day I feel more strongly that on one nail ”fastened in a sure place” many things may hang easily; and truly all treat us with such kindness, that I should be ungrateful not to value highly my connection for its own sake, whilst that on which it hangs grows firmer too. * * *
The remembrance of the cheerfulness with which Eliza Southall entered into the duties and cares of her new position in her adopted home has afforded cause for much grat.i.tude on the part of those dear relatives who welcomed her there. Newly made acquainted with some of them, she won their love and esteem by her unaffected simplicity and the geniality of her sympathies; but, whilst she showed true conjugal solicitude in her plans for domestic comfort and social enjoyment, it was evidently her first desire to have her heart and her treasure in heaven. It was designed in the ordering of Divine providence that a cloud should very soon overshadow the bright promises of her arrival; and the following account of the illness which so speedily terminated her life will, it is hoped, convey a correct impression of the peacefulness of its close. It is compiled from memoranda made very soon after her decease, but is of necessity imperfect; the attention of those who contributed from memory portions of her conversation being so much absorbed by their interest in the conflict between life and death, and by the overwhelming feelings of an hour of such moment to some of them. Whilst it is hoped that nothing inserted may appear to go beyond the simplicity of the truth, it may be added that it seems impossible to convey in words a full and faithful idea of the holy serenity of her last hours, which showed that the work of religion had not been in vain in her heart.
With the exception of a slight cold, which soon left her, she appeared to be in her usual health and spirits. But it was so for only two weeks, and on Third-day, the 30th of 9th Month, on returning from a visit at Woodfield, she complained of not feeling well. The next day she was more poorly, and medical advice was obtained. The following morning she suffered much pain, but the remedies used soon relieved her; and, though she was not able to leave her bed, the symptoms did not continue such as to excite much uneasiness. She enjoyed hearing another read, and not unfrequently Isaac Pennington's letters, or some other book, was in her own hand, and during occasional pain and uneasiness she would request to have some chapter in the Bible read, or a hymn of comfort. There was always an air of cheerfulness in her chamber, and the affectionate greeting with which each relative who visited her was welcomed was very precious. Few words pa.s.sed of a religious nature, or such as to induce the supposition that in four more days earth would be exchanged for heaven, except one short remark to her husband in the evening: ”I have been thinking of the text, 'Then whose shall these things be which thou hast provided?' they may not be mine much longer.” This was touching to his feelings, but was viewed as her wonted cautious manner of speaking of temporal things.
There was nothing further in her remarks which showed that she regarded her case as a critical one.
On Sixth and Seventh days she seemed decidedly better--entering into the varied interests around her. The evening of the latter day was particularly bright and cheering, when she conversed cheerfully with her husband and sister and spoke of her plans for the future. She also listened with pleasure to some pieces of poetry which were read, and amongst them appeared to derive comfort from the hymn beginning,--
”Nearer, my G.o.d, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!
E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song would be, Nearer, my G.o.d, to Thee-- Nearer to Thee!”
Early on First-day morning she seemed rather depressed, and requested her sister to repeat the hymn, ”'Tis a point I long to know,” [Olney Hymns.] In the course of the morning she wrote a touching note to her beloved mother: it was her last effort of the kind:--
5th of 10th Month, 1851.
My beloved Mother:--
I have got permission to use a pencil in thanking thee for thy kind sweet lines which this morning's post brought me. I am thankful for being so remembered by my own precious mother now so far away. * * *
It is a new experience to me to lie here so long; but, now that I am much better, and what pain I have is transient and easy to be borne for the most part, it is my own fault if the days are profitless. I quite hope, by the time father comes, to be able to enjoy his visit--and so I could now; but then it could only be in this chamber, already become quite familiar. * * *
We are so thankful to hear of thy amendment to this hopeful stage! I trust nothing will prevent thy being able to leave home with father; and then how soon we shall rejoice to see thee here!
Thy ever loving, and trying to be submissive,
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