The result of this suggestion was that Phyllis Rowe accepted the invitation for the winter months, and although she did not, for various reasons, prefer to make Ann Hunt's house her home, she continued to pay her long visits up to the time of her own unlooked-for death. She came to Brunswick Square for the first of these visits in November, 1887. Previously to this, some young Friends, knowing of her failing sight, had offered to come one by one at stated times to read to her. She gladly acceded to the proposal, rejoicing as much in the opportunity of intercourse with those in whom she was interested as in the advantage to herself, and the plan continued in operation until the commencement of her last illness. On their side her young visitors delighted in her society; the book was often laid aside and the time occupied by earnest talk, personal or discussive. She could still write clearly and legibly at this time.

To Hannah Southall.

"Brunswick Square,

"15th of Tenth Month, 1887. "While dear Cousin E. is gone out to do some shopping, it feels very congenial to me to write a few lines to my partner beloved, and thought of with undying remembrance-not to die, I trust, even when the body dies, which now encases the living memory. Dearest, I have heard of thee, of course, through Bessie, and, as far as permitted, have entered into present interests and difficulties. But still more does my heart turn to the subject on which thou

spoke in thy last and asked sympathy, which is truly rendered: I mean about the causes of concern arising in your Meeting. These matters come very closely home to those who are earnestly engaged in endeavouring to raise the standard, and to draw into true union those who uphold it. I do not know that there is anything more depressing, nor that tries the faith more, than the falling out of rank of those enlisted under the banner which the Lord gives to those who fear Him. There are so many influences that lead to this, sometimes not easy to recognise-I expect it is so among you. It is not felt exactly in the same way among us, and yet there is much that leads to close searching of heart. I desire to be shown wherein anything in ourselves or our ways of working, or the neglect of these, may be obstructing that measure of blessing which our Lord designs to give-He who is the Shepherd and Bishop of the souls, for whose salvation and growth in grace we long. One seems to come back again and again to the conviction that the true cause of all failure as to fruit-bearing is the want of close personal union with Christ—that blessed condition of which it is said that the living water shall be in him, and shall flow out of him. Whenever I begin at the faults and failures (which abound with us also), I always seem to come back to this; and the longing to realise it more myself and, if it might be permitted, to help others to realise it, seems to swallow up the thought of other remedies. And yet measures of this kind, as auxiliary, must be adopted, and such I have no doubt you are doing. I was very much interested in hearing about poor I hope all patience and forbearance will be exercised, for perhaps we can scarcely estimate the strength of

one at

the temptation which comes over such an times, and is utterly overpowering without Divine help. It may be that his fall may be made a blessing in awakening him more clearly to see his danger and where alone his safety lies."

To Hannah Southall.

"5th of Sixth Month, 1887.

66 Thank thee very much for mentioning that nice book-but like many other things my reading is more in name than reality, for thou seest that though there are several readers there is but one hearer, who has besides other functions. Times do not always suit, and altogether we do not get through rapidly; there is often a good deal of talk, which I would by no means have eliminated. The passing literature which one used to look hastily down and extract the essence, has very much to be foregone;-though I do not cease to take interest in public affairs, and hope not to subside into that somewhat lamentable condition."

To Elizabeth Southall,

"18th of First Month, 1888. "I have been thinking lately of the promise of leading the blind by a way which they know not, of making darkness light before them and crooked things straight, and the precious assurance 'these things I will I do unto them and not forsake them.' Now that I cannot as formerly refer to Scripture passages and read a chapter or more at will, these priceless gems of promise seem to shine out with special brightness and are full of rich consolation. I have not felt lonely or dull during this week since coming home, but on Second-day I have arranged to go to C. R. Charleton's, and stay if all be well until Fifth-day."

To the same.

"17th of Second Month, 1888.

"I feel that I have owed thee a letter for a long time, not that the loss is thine, for I feel the privation of intercourse tells most on me,-and yet I feel too that this slowness of execution and narrowing up of opportunities belong, to the discipline I will not say, but to the preparatory treatment of advanced years, mercifully arranged by Him who promises to carry in old age as in tender years. 'I will carry and will deliver you.' I never understood the blessedness of this promise to hoar hairs until I was old myselfthough as yet mercifully spared many of the infirmities and trials of this stage of life. Neither has the laying aside yet come, for seldom has life seemed busier, or [have there been] more claims on thought and action since I have had in a sense the disposal of my own time. Dear Phyllis is an excellent and most kind helper, or rather in many things efficient coworker, as well as having schemes and kindnesses to carry out on her own account."

To J. S. Fry.

"18th of Fifth Month, 1888.

"There are, I truly feel, many mercies-and if the words suggested by Milton be true for me, the privation which we spoke of last night will be one of these,

'My vision hast Thou dimmed that I might see

More of Thyself alone!'

"That this blessing which includes so much may be increasingly thine (though with undimmed vision) is my prayer very often."

IN

CHAPTER VIII.

"He giveth rest more perfect, pure and true,
While we His burthen bear;

It springeth not from parted pain, but through
The accepted blessing there,

The lesson pondered o'er with thoughtful eyes,
The faith that sees in all a meaning wise."

Lucy Fletcher.

N the spring of 1888 the question arose as to the desirability of an operation for cataract, which had previously been considered a thing not to be thought of for a person so advanced in years. Now, however, her friends told her of an oculist who thought little of this difficulty, who had been successful with aged patients and was willing to operate at a comparatively early stage of the disease. "I need not say," she remarks in a letter to Hannah Southall on the subject, "how pleasant it would be to look again on the lovely country and on the faces of dear friends as well as to have books and papers unsealed and to feel less of helplessness. Yet I could scarcely have believed how little of distress there has been in this, so mercifully are minds and circumstances adapted to each other."