"For this I would praise thee; but if only for this,
I should leave half untold the donation of bliss:
I thank thee for sickness, for sorrow, for care,
For the thorns I have gathered, the anguish I bear.

“For nights of anxiety, watching, and tears—

A present of pain, a perspective of fears;

I praise thee, I bless thee, my King and my God,

For the good and the evil thy hand hath bestowed.

'The flowers were sweet, but their fragrance is flown;
They yielded no fruits, they are withered and gone :
The thorn it was poignant, but precious to me,

'Twas the message of mercy—it led me to thee !"

Although Mrs. Fry's life and career are known to the majority of readers, it may not be amiss to give a slight sketch of them. She was a Gurney by birth, and was born in Norwich in 1780. The celebrated Friend, Joseph John Gurney, was her elder brother. From youth she was remarkable for her benevolent aspirations and efforts, and before her marriage established a school for eighty poor children in the large kitchen of her father's house. After her marriage she continued and increased, with the consent of her husband, her disinterested philanthropic labours. Quite accidentally one day Mrs. Fry visited Newgate, and from this visit her efforts for the amelioration of the condition of prisoners arose. Her visits were repeated, and, in spite of the remonstrances of the jailer and turnkeys, she insisted on remaining alone in the midst of one hundred and sixty women, who were more like wild beasts than anything else. They listened in silent astonishment at first; but the astonishment soon gave way to respect

and affection. Mrs. Fry was besought to repeat her visit, which she did, and passed a whole day with them, reading the Bible, talking with them, and hearing their tales of sorrow and of sin. By degrees she won their confidence, set up a school for them, gave them employment, made rules for their guidance, and appointed one of their number as superintendent of the rest. As they left the prison on the completion of their sentences she befriended these outcasts, and either restored them to their homes or obtained situations for them. Afterwards she travelled through England, Scotland, and Ireland, as well as through Continental countries, seeking to assuage and improve the condition of prisoners, lunatics, and similar helpless members of the population. She was not less active in works of goodness near home; and though visited by much affliction at times, she ever took an active interest in all these things, until she passed away, at the age of sixty-five, honoured by kings, queens, and emperors, beloved by all Christians of whatever sect, and regretted by the poor and needy. She cared nothing for fame, but she found fame of the most enduring kind.

The name of Mrs. PENNEFATHER is best known in conjunction with the Mildmay Conference, which was founded by her husband, the Rev. William Pennefather, M.A. She also wrote a few hymns expressive of Christian experience. Of this character is the one we now quote, and which is also included in Rev. W. Garrett Horder's "Congregational Hymns" (No. 826).

"Not now, my child—a little more rough tossing,
A little longer on the billow's foam,

A few more journeyings in the desert darkness,
And then the sunshine of thy Father's home.

"Not now, for I have wanderers in the distance,
And thou must call them in with patient love;
Not now, for I have sheep upon the mountains,
And thou must follow them where'er they rove.

"Not now, for I have loved ones, sad and weary,

Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile? Sick ones who need thee in their lonely sorrow,— Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while?

"Not now, for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding,
And thou must teach those widowed hearts to sing;
Not now, for orphans' tears are thickly falling,—
Gather the children 'neath some sheltering wing.

"Not now, for many a hungry one is pining,

Thy willing hand must be outstretched and free; Thy Father hears the mighty cry of anguish, And gives his answering messages to thee.

"Go with the name of Jesus to the dying,

And speak that name in all its living power ;Why should thy fainting heart grow sad and weary? Canst thou not watch with me one little hour?

"One little hour, and then the glorious crowning, The golden harp-strings, and the victor's palm! One little hour, and then the Hallelujah,

Eternity's long, deep, thanksgiving psalm!"

CHAPTER VII.

Minor Hymn Writers.

ENGLISH.-(Continued.)

WE

WOMEN DISTINGUISHED IN LITERATURE.

E now come to a group of talented women who have each made their mark in English literature, and although not hymn writers in the common acceptation of the word, have written some hymns and sacred poetry which are too good to be passed by. Their names are Agnes Strickland, author of "The Queens of England;" Mrs. Craik, author of "John Halifax, Gentleman," and many other works of that kind; Jean Ingelow, the poetess; Mrs. Mary Howitt and Miss Betham-Edwards, well known for their contributions to literature; Frances Browne, a blind Irishwoman, known as a poetess of no mean order in her own country; Mrs. Southey, who was known to literature when Miss Caroline Bowles; Sarah Doudney: Mrs. Sergeant and her daughter, Adeline Sergeant; and Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe, a good woman of Puritan times.

CAROLINE BOWLES became the second wife of Robert

Southey, poet-laureate, in June 1839. She wrote many short pieces both before and after her marriage, but the one sacred piece which has found its way into various hymnals is the following, entitled, "The Mariner's Hymn." It should be mentioned that Mrs. Southey was the daughter of a sea-captain, therefore her imagery is naturally of the sea and seafaring things.