XI. LIFE IN ENGLAND
[Image of page 72]
XI
LIFE IN ENGLAND
TO my great joy, my mother decided to go with me to England, taking my two young sisters to finish their education there, and so we were quite a large party on board the Asterope, of Shaw Savill Line.
Just before leaving for New Zealand, amongst numerous friends with whom I parted was an officer of the 65th Regiment, who had more than once distinguished himself for bravery during the Maori war. When bidding me good-bye, he said, 'Our next meeting place will be in London, I suppose.' He said this because he was also leaving, a few days later, for England with his regiment, on board the Ida Zigla.
But, strange to say, our next meeting place was on the ocean, close to the Equator, where we were almost becalmed, when we sighted the Ida Zigla. As our vessels drew nearer we could hear the military band playing, and so close did they steer that we could even talk to each other. Soon a boat was lowered from the Ida Zigla, and several of the military officers came on board our ship, amongst them my friend, who brought a note from the ladies on board the Ida Zigla inviting us to lunch with them and to an afternoon dance. They all looked so gay, waving their handkerchiefs to us, and a chair was lowered over the side of the vessel, to show us how easily we could be taken on board.. There were only about six ladies in our saloon, and they would not go without me. My mother thought that, as I was a young widow going to my husband's people, I should not indulge in such dissipation. But it was so hard to refuse. The occurrence was so exceptional, and would certainly never be likely to happen again in a lifetime; the officers were so eager, and pleaded so hard that we should go on board their ship, and the music
[Image of page 73]
sounded so attractive. However, our captain looked disapprovingly, and said if a breeze sprang up he would sail away without us. So the disappointed officers returned to their ship alone. Shortly afterwards a little breeze did spring up, and they were soon out of sight.
I never joined in any of the dances on board our own ship. I had a Bible-reading with the sailors, and a Sunday-school for the children; and I have never found that confessing my faith in these ways brought me into disfavour with others, or lessened the attentions of the opposite sex--far from it. I believe men admire women who have religion, even if they are without it themselves.
My arrival in England was the beginning of an utterly new phase of life. We were received kindly by my husband's relations, in their very quiet, undemonstrative way--to me rather chilling after all the love and sympathy so freely bestowed upon us in New Zealand. I had pictured a most pathetic meeting between the grandparents and the children of their only son, but to be practical and not pathetic was the aim of these good English people! However, they generously received us into their home and educated my children, afterwards starting them in life. My husband's sisters have ever been devoted and affectionate aunts, winning the love and gratitude of my children.
In order to meet various cousins who were in London--or 'town,' as they called it--I visited an aunt living in Eaton Place, and as she introduced first one tall, distinguished looking man and then another to me, I felt very shy.
When dear old Aunt Julia said, 'We have heard about your playing and singing from poor Jem's letters: will you sing something?' I said, 'I only sing sacred music now,' and I sang:--
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
Come unto Me and rest.
They received my response to their request very kindly, and seemed touched when they remembered all that had happened.
One day when, as usual, I was at my father-in-law's
[Image of page 74]
house, a visiting-card was brought to me, bearing the name of an officer whom I had known in New Zealand. I was delighted at the thought of seeing any one from home. He had not, to my surprise, heard of the arrival in London of one of our most popular of Wanganui men, Dr. Gibson. 'But,' I added sadly, 'Dr. Gibson's life hangs on a thread. Do go and see him. You will find him greatly changed by a severe illness. He came to Folkestone to see me when he first arrived, but I was sure then that he was dying.'
The officer said that he would go and see him, and I gave him the address, as he was going to town for a few days almost immediately. My joy and thankfulness were great when I received a note soon after from Dr. Gibson, saying, 'I write to thank you for bringing together two old friends,' referring to the officer, 'and for thus healing an estrangement just at the right time before one of us passed away into another world! Come and see me when you are in London.'
I went purposely to see him, and was so thankful that our dear old friend was well cared for by his landlady, the widow of a naval officer, and a very good woman.
She suggested that I should ask some clergyman to visit Dr, Gibson. I knew of one who was greatly loved by all who knew him, but my dear old friend resented this, and when I met him accidentally at Tonbridge Junction, where I was changing trains, he was so ill that I do not think he realized what he said when he exclaimed, 'Don't send any more parsons to see me! and don't write me any more religious letters!'
He tried to say more, but a fit of coughing came on, and I had to make a rush for my train. I threw myself into one of the corner seats and sobbed uncontrollably. Fortunately, the people in the carriage were kind, and soon I felt my hand gently taken and held. Taking my handkerchief from my eyes I saw such a sweet-looking old lady. She said, 'I know what you must feel in parting from your friend.'
'Oh,' I said, 'it is not the mere parting with him here, but it is all dark before him: he does not know or believe in the Saviour of sinners!'
[Image of page 75]
Two charming looking girls were gazing sympathetically at me, and one said, 'But there is prayer.' The old lady added, 'Let us all now--as I am sure we are of one mind--let us all now plead together for that precious soul.' And we did so, and that railway journey became like a little bit of Heaven.
The prayer was fully answered. Dr. Gibson revived a little, whilst at Ramsgate under the care of his kind landlady, and during that time he gradually became interested in the good books she used to read to him. One Sunday evening he said, 'I want you to go to church this evening.' When she returned, there was a distressed look on his face. She said, 'I want to tell you what I heard.' He said, 'It is of no use; I have been thinking over everything. I have neglected God all my life, and lived for whatever pleasure I could get out of the world. It would be mean to turn to Him now when there is nothing left. No, it is too late.'
But she said, 'Because you have neglected and grieved Him in the past, is that a reason for continuing to do so to the very end? He wants you now. Just gladden the heart of your Saviour now; let there be joy in the presence of God over one sinner repenting; cast yourself at the feet of the Saviour who suffered on the cross for sinners. "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved." Now, beloved friend,' she went on, 'say these words with me,' and she repeated:--
Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy Blood was shed for me;
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I am, and waiting not,
To rid my soul of one dark blot;
To Thee, whose Blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, and relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come.
[Image of page 76]
The last lines of these verses were always on his lips,
'O Lamb of God, I come,' and he rejoiced in the love of God, his Saviour. When he was dying he looked up with such a smile, and said, 'Delightful!' He truly repented, and truly received forgiveness.
I sometimes visited an aunt and uncle at Binstead Rectory, in the Isle of Wight, a most lovely rural spot. My visits with my children to this charming place are among the happiest times of my life--red-letter days, made so by the love and sympathy of that dear uncle, aunt, and cousins. It was truly a rest and relaxation from a life full of strain and difficulties. Through their effort and kindness two of my sons were educated at Christ's Hospital.
On one occasion whilst at luncheon in a delightful house in Mayfair, I sat next to the Marquis of S-----. It was during the time of the Moody and Sankey services, held in the Royal Italian Opera House, and they were often the subject of conversation. I took for granted that the Marquis had heard those great evangelists, and asked him if he had noticed a row of unoccupied green velvet chairs in the centre of the building barred off from the people, although there were crowds of ladies and gentlemen standing. I added, 'I was told they belonged to a rich nobleman, who had refused to allow them to be used. But,' I said, 'one can scarcely believe any one would be so unamiable, especially to people who had come to hear and get good.' And I added, 'Every soul that gets converted to God makes the world that much better and safer to live in.' I looked up at him as I asked, 'Don't you think so?'
There was a twinkle in his eye as he replied, in grim tones, 'You will know what I think when I tell you that the row of chairs belong to me!'
It was a shock, but, woman-like, I only replied, 'How could you?' After luncheon, when in the drawing-room, he was quite beset with importunities to cancel his order about the chairs, and before he left the house he wrote a note to the authorities saying 'the barrier was to be removed, and the chairs available to the public.'
