_Extracts from Jane Hardie's Diary._
_“March 3rd._--In my district again, the first time since my illness,
from which I am indeed but half recovered. Spoke faithfully to Mrs. B.
about her infidel husband: told her not to try and talk to him, but
to talk to God about him. Gave her my tract 'A quiet heart.' Came home
tired. Prayed to be used to sharpen the sickles of other reapers.”
_“March 4th._--At St. Philip's to hear the Bishop. In the midst of an
excellent sermon on Gen. i. 2, he came out with the waters of baptism,
to my horror: he disclaimed the extravagant views some of them take,
then hankered after what he denied, and then partly unsaid _that_ too.
While the poor man was trimming his sails, I slunk behind a pillar in
the corner of my pew, and fell on my knees, and prayed (a) against the
stream of poison flowing on the congregation. Oh, I felt like Jeremiah
in his dungeon.”
“In the evening papa forbade me to go to church again: said the wind was
too cold: I kissed him, and went up to my room and put my head between
the pillows not to hear the bells. Prayed for poor (b) Alfred.”
_“March 5th._--Sadly disappointed in J. D. I did hope he was embittering
the world to her by degrees. But for some time past she writes in
ill-concealed spirits.
“Another friend, after seeking rest in the world, is now seeking it in
ritualism. May both be drawn from their rotten reeds to the cross
'And oh this moral may my heart retain,
All hopes of happiness on earth are vain.'”
_“March 6th._--The cat is out of the bag. She is corresponding with
Alfred: indeed she makes no secret of it. Wrote her a (c) faithful
letter. Received a short reply, saying I had made her unhappy, and
begging me to suspend my judgment till she could undeceive me without
giving me too much pain. What mystery is this?”
“_March 7th._--Alfred announces his unalterable determination to marry
Julia. I read the letter to papa directly. He was silent for a long
time: and then said: 'All the worse for both of them.' It was all I
could do to suppress a thrill of carnal complacency at the thought this
might in time pave the way to another union. Even to think of that now
is a sin. 1 Cor. vii. 20-4, plainly shows that whatever position (d)
of life we are placed in, there it is our duty to abide. A child, for
instance, is placed in subjection to her parents; and must not leave
them without their consent.”
_“March 8th._--Sent two cups of cold water to two fellow-pilgrims of
mine on the way to Jerusalem, viz: to E. H., Rom. viii. 1; to Mrs. M.,
Philipp. ii. 27.
“Prayed for increase of humility. I am so afraid my great success in His
vineyard has seduced me into feeling as if there was a spring of living
water in myself, instead of every drop being derived from the true
fountain.”
_“March 9th._--Dr. Wycherley closeted two hours with papa--papa had sent
for him, I find. What is it makes me think that man is no true friend to
Alfred in his advice? I don't like these roundabout speakers: the lively
oracles are not roundabout.”
_“March 10th._--My beloved friend and fellow-labourer, Charlotte D----,
ruptured a blood-vessel (x) at three P. M., and was conveyed in the
chariots of angels to the heavenly banqueting-house, to go no more out.
May I be found watching.”
_“March 11th._--Dreadfully starved with these afternoon sermons. If they
go on like this, I really must stay at home, and feed upon the word.”
_“March 12th._--Alfred has written to his trustees, and announced his
coming marriage, and told them he is going to settle all his money
upon the Dodds. Papa quite agitated by this news: it did not come from
Alfred; one of the trustees wrote to papa. Oh, the blessing of Heaven
will never rest on this unnatural marriage. Wrote a faithful letter to
Alfred while papa was writing to our trustee.”
_“March 13th._--My book on Solomon's Song now ready for publication. But
it is so difficult now-a-days to find a publisher for such a subject.
The rage is for sentimental sermons, or else for fiction (f) under a
thin disguise of religious biography.”
_“March 14th._--Mr. Plummer, of whose zeal and unction I had heard so
much, was in the town and heard of me, and came to see me by appointment
just after luncheon. _Such_ a sweet meeting. He came in and took my
hand, and in that posture prayed that the Holy Spirit might be with us
to make our conversation profitable to us, and redound to His glory.
Poor man, his wife leads him a cat and dog life, I hear, with her
jealousy. We had a _sweet_ talk; he admires Canticles almost as much as
I do (z): and has promised to take my book and get it cast on the Lord
(g) for me.”
_“March 15th._--To _please,_ one must not be faithful. (h) Miss L.,
after losing all her relations, and at thirty years of age, is to be
married next week. She came to me and gushed out about the blessing of
having at last one earthly friend to whom she could confide everything.
On this I felt it my duty to remind her she might lose him by death,
and then what a blank; and I was going on to detach her from the arm of
flesh, when she burst out crying, and left me abruptly; couldn't bear
the truth, poor woman.
“In the afternoon met _him_ and bowed, and longed to speak, but thought
it my duty not to: cried bitterly on reaching home.”
_“March l7th._--Transcribed all the (i) texts on Solomon's Song. It
seems to be the way He (j) has marked out for me to serve him.”
_“March 19th._--Received this letter from Alfred:
'DEAR JANE,--I send you a dozen kisses and a piece of advice; learn
more; teach less: study more; preach less: and don't be in such a
hurry to judge and condemn your intellectual and moral superiors, on
insufficient information.--Your affectionate brother,
ALFRED.'
“A poor return for me loving his soul as my own. I do but advise him the
self-denial I myself pursue. Woe be to him if he rejects it.”
_“March 20th._--A perverse reply from J. D. I had proposed we should
plead for our parents at the Throne. She says she fears that might seem
like assuming the office of the mediator: and besides her mother
is nearer Heaven than she is. What blindness! I don't know a more
thoroughly unhealthy mind than poor Mrs. (k) Dodd's. I am learning to
pray walking. Got this idea from Mr. Plummer. How closely he walks! his
mind so _exactly_ suits mine.”
_“March 22nd._--Alfred returned. Went to meet him at the station. How
bright and handsome he looked! He kissed me so affectionately; and was
as kind and loving as could be: I, poor unfaithful wretch, went hanging
(m) on his arm, and had not the heart to dash his carnal happiness just
then.
“He is gone _there._”
_“March 24th._--Stole into Alfred's lodging when he was out; and, after
prayer, pinned Deuteronomy xxvii. 16, Proverbs xiii. 1, and xv. 5, and
Mark vii. 10, upon his bed-curtains.”
_“March 25th._--Alfred has been in my room, and nailed Matthew vii. 1,
Mark x. 7, and Ezek. xviii. 20, on my wall. He found my diary, and has
read it, not to profit by, alas! but to scoff.”
[Specimen of Alfred's comments. _N.B._ Fraternal criticism:
A. Nolo Episcopari.
B. It's an ill wind that blows nobody good.
D. The old trick; picking one text, straining it; and ignoring six. So
then nobody who is not born married, must get married.
E. Recipe. To know people's real estimate of themselves, study their
language of self-depreciation. If, even when they undertake to lower
themselves, they cannot help insinuating self-praise, be sure their
humility is a puddle, their vanity is a well. This sentence is typical
of the whole Diary or rather Iary; it sounds Publican, smells Pharisee.
X. How potent a thing is language in the hand of a master: Here is
sudden death made humorous by a few incongruous phrases neatly disposed.
F. Excuse me; there is still a little market for the Liquefaction of
Holy Writ, and the perversion of Holy Writ; two deathless arts, which
meet in your comment on the song you ascribe to Solomon.
Z. More than Mrs. Plummer does, apparently.
G. Apotheosis of the British public. How very like profaneness some
people's piety is!
C. H. Faith, with this school, means anything the opposite of Charity.
I. You are morally truthful: but intellectually mendacious. The texts on
Solomon's Song! You know very well there is not one. No grave writer
in all Scripture has ever deigned to cite, or notice, that coarse
composition; puellarum deliciae.
J. Modest periphrasis for “I like it.” Motto for this Diary; “Ego, et
Deus meus.”
K. In other words, a good, old-fashioned, sober, humble Christian, to
whom the daring familiarities of your school seem blasphemies.
M. Here I recognise my sister; somewhat spoiled by a detestable sect;
but lovable by nature (which she is for ever abusing); and therefore
always amiable, when off her guard.
_“March 28th._--Mr. Crawford the attorney called and told papa his son
had instructed him to examine the trust-deed, and to draw his marriage
settlement. Papa treated him with the greatest civility, and brought him
the deed. He wanted to take it away to copy; but papa said he had better
send a clerk here. Poor papa hid his distress from this gentleman,
though not from me; and gave him a glass of wine.
“Then Mr. Crawford chatted, and let out Alfred had asked him to advance
a hundred pounds for the wedding presents, &c. Papa said he might do so
with perfect safety.
“But the moment he was gone, his whole manner changed. He walked about
in terrible anger and agitation: and then sat down and wrote letters;
one was to uncle Thomas; and one to a Mr. Wycherley; I believe a brother
of the doctor's. I never knew him so long writing two letters before.
“Heard a noise in the road, and it was Mr. Maxley, and the boys after
him hooting; they have found out his infirmity: what a savage animal is
man, till grace changes him! The poor soul had a stick, and now and then
turned and struck at them but his tormentors were too nimble. I drew
papa to the window, and showed him, and reminded him of the poor man's
request. He answered impatiently what was that to him? 'We have a worse
case nearer hand. Charity begins at home.' I ventured to say yes, but it
did not begin _and_ end at home.”
_“March 31st._--Mr. Osmond here to-day; and over my work I heard papa
tell him Alfred is blackening his character in the town with some
impossible story about fourteen thousand pounds. Mr. Osmond very kind
and sympathising; set it all down to illusion; assured papa there was
neither malice nor insincerity in it. 'But what the better am I for
that?' said poor papa; 'if I am slandered, I am slandered.' And they
went out together.
“Papa seems to feel this engagement more than all his troubles, and,
knowing by sad experience it is useless to expostulate with Alfred, I
wrote a long and faithful letter to Julia just before luncheon,
putting it to her as a Christian whether she could reconcile it to
her profession to set a son against his father, and marry him in open
defiance.
“She replied, 3 P. M., that her mother approved the marriage, and she
owed no obedience, nor affection either, to _my_ parent.
“3.30. Sent back a line rebuking her for this quibble.
“At 5 received a note from Mrs. Dodd proposing that the correspondence
between myself and her daughter should cease _for the present._
“5.30. Retorted with an amendment that it should cease _for ever._ No
reply. Such are worldlings! Remonstrance only galls them. And so in one
afternoon's correspondence ends one more of my Christian friendships
with persons of my own sex. This is the eighth to which a carnal
attachment has been speedily fatal.
“In the evening Alfred came in looking very red, and asked me whether it
was not self-reliant and uncharitable of me to condemn so many estimable
persons, all better acquainted with the circumstances than I am. I
replied with the fifth commandment. He bit his lip and said, 'We had
better not meet again, until you have found out which is worthiest of
honour, your father or your brother.' And with this he left abruptly;
and something tells me I shall not see him again. My faithfulness has
wounded him to the quick. Alas! Prayed for him and cried myself to
sleep.”
_“April 4th._ Met _him_ disguised as a common workman, and carrying
a sack full of things. I was so shocked I could not maintain my
resolution: I said, 'Oh, Mr. Edward, what are you doing?' He blushed a
little, but told me he was going to sell some candlesticks and things of
his making: and he should get a better price in that dress; all traders
looked on a _gentleman_ as a thing made to be pillaged. Then he told me
he was going to turn them into a bonnet and a wreath; and his beautiful
brown eyes sparkled with affection. What egotistical creatures _they_
must be! I was quite overcome, and said, Oh why did he refuse our offer?
Did he hate me so very much that he would not even take his due from my
hand? 'No,' he said, 'nobody in our house is so unjust to you as to hate
you; my sister honours you, and is very sorry you think ill of her: and,
as for me, I love you; you know how I love you.' I hid my face in my
hands; and sobbed out, 'Oh, you must not; you must not; my poor father
has one disobedient child already.' He said softly, 'Don't cry, dear
one; have a little patience; perhaps the clouds will clear: and,
meantime, why think so ill of us? Consider, we are four in number, of
different dispositious, yet all of one mind about Julia marrying Alfred.
May we not be right; may we not know something we love you too well to
tell you?' His words and his rich manly voice were so soothing; I gave
him just one hand while I still hid my burning face with the other; he
kissed the hand I yielded him, and left me abruptly.
“If Alfred should be right! I am staggered now; he puts it so much more
convincingly.”
_“April 5th._ A letter from Alfred, announcing his wedding by special
license for the 11th.
“Made no reply. What _could_ I say?
“Papa, on my reading it out left his very breakfast half finished, and
packed up his bag and rushed up to London. I caught a side view of his
face; and I am miserable. Such a new, such a terrible expression! a vile
expression! Heaven forgive me, it seemed the look of one who meditated a
_crime._”