The good people in the south of France still say, "She seemed to us like an angel;" which shows how her earnest tones and kind deeds impressed these simple-hearted people, who saw too few that loved to feed the sheep and the lambs. Her active work in the ministry began with her first visit to the provinces. Between that time and her death she went as a herald through her own land; to Liberia, to England, Ireland, Norway, Denmark, Germany, Switzerland, and France; to Scotland, Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land. Few women, if any, before her had been called to so many and so widely separated peoples. By every race and nation she was kindly received, and she was enabled to speak to them boldly and with such power that the lives of those who heard her were noticeably changed. Standing often where woman never stood before to speak, she lovingly urged the mult.i.tudes of ignorant, unsaved hearers to come to the Lord for teaching and salvation. The effect of her live words on those who had heard only formal preaching can hardly be described. When in her most earnest att.i.tude, she was calm in her pleading, avoiding all that was sensational and speaking simply to reach the heart. There has never been a more striking instance of reliance on the divine Voice in the soul. There were numerous occasions in her life when not only all her friends, but skilful physicians, concurred in advising her to rest her exhausted body when she felt work immediately before her. In every case she replied, "I have this work to do now; I cannot take another course;"

and in no case was she mistaken. Once at least she went from her own home to the train on a couch, but the results of the visit could leave no one in doubt from whence came the command for her to go forth.

Like Madame Guyon, it was her unceasing desire to bring her individual will into full harmony with the will of G.o.d, and like her she sought earnestly to distinguish minutely between her own impulses and the promptings of the Spirit of G.o.d; not unlike Madame Guyon, she knew her place to be where she could work actively among men for their enlightenment. No small part of her work was with soldiers and prisoners. Following the example of Elizabeth Fry, she went where sin had made the deepest stains. Not only did the inmates of wards and cells become gentler as she talked to them, but they regarded this world and the next from a different standpoint when she had finished speaking to them of the one hope which she had come to bring them.

As she understood the New Testament, and as she interpreted the whisperings within her, it seemed clear that the disciple of Christ must devote himself or herself to uplifting a larger or smaller portion of the human race, the radius of influence depending on the number of talents received--that each servant's work might be different, but each one must get into an att.i.tude to _find_ his task, and then all must work to produce fruit for the same harvest-home.

The following is quoted from Harriet Beecher Stowe in her _Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands_:

"C. had been with Joseph Sturge during the afternoon to a meeting of the Friends, and heard a discourse from Sybil Jones, one of the most popular of their female preachers. Sybil Jones is a native of Brunswick, Maine. She and her husband, being both preachers, have travelled extensively in the prosecution of various philanthropic and religious enterprises.

"In the evening Joseph Sturge said that she had expressed a desire to see me. Accordingly, I went with him to call upon her, and found her in the family of two aged Friends, surrounded by a circle of the same denomination. She is a woman of great delicacy of appearance, betokening very frail health. I am told that she is most of her time in a state of extreme suffering from neuralgic complaints. There was a mingled expression of enthusiasm and tenderness in her face which was very interesting. She had had, according to the language of her sect, a concern on her mind for me. To my mind there is something peculiarly interesting about the primitive simplicity and frankness with which the members of this body express themselves. She desired to caution me against the temptations of too much flattery and applause, and against the worldliness which might beset me in London. Her manner of addressing me was like that of one who is commissioned with a message which must be spoken with plainness and sincerity. After this the whole circle knelt, and she offered prayer. I was somewhat painfully impressed with her evident fragility of body compared with the enthusiastic workings of her mind. In the course of the conversation she inquired if I was going to Ireland. I told her yes, that was my intention. She begged that I would visit the western coast, adding, with great feeling, '_It was the miseries which I saw there which have brought my health to the state it is in._'

"She had travelled extensively in the Southern States, and had in private conversation been able very fully to bear witness against slavery, and had never been heard with unkindness. The whole incident afforded me matter for reflection. The calling of women to distinct religious vocations, it appears to me, was a part of primitive Christianity; has been one of the most efficient elements of power in the Romish Church; obtained among the Methodists in England; and has in all these cases been productive of great good. The deaconesses whom the apostle mentioned with honor in his epistle, Madame Guyon in the Romish Church, Mrs. Fletcher, Elizabeth Fry, are instances to show how much may be done for mankind by women _who feel themselves impelled to a special religious vocation_. The example of the Quakers is a sufficient proof that acting upon this idea does not produce discord and domestic disorder. No people are more remarkable for quietness and propriety of deportment and for household order and domestic excellence. By the admission of this liberty the world is now and then gifted with a woman like Elizabeth Fry, while the family state loses none of its security and sacredness. No one in our day charges the ladies of the Quaker sect with boldness or indecorum, and they have demonstrated that even public teaching, when performed under the influence of an overpowering devotional spirit, does not interfere with feminine propriety and modesty. The fact is, that the number of women to whom this vocation is given will always be comparatively few: they are, and generally will be, the exceptions, and the majority of the religious world, ancient and modern, has decided that these exceptions are to be treated with reverence."

John G. Whittier writes in his poem, the "Meeting:"

"Welcome the silence all unbroken, Nor less the words of fitness spoken-- Such golden words as hers for whom Our autumn flowers have just made room,

Or haply hers whose pilgrim tread Is in the paths where Jesus led; Who dreams her childhood's Sabbath dream By Jordan's willow-shaded stream, And of the hymns or hope and faith Sung by the monks of Nazareth

Hears pious echoes in the call To prayer from Moslem minarets fall, Repeating where His works were wrought The lessons that her Master taught-- Of whom an elder Sibyl gave The prophecies of c.u.mae's cave."

In conclusion, it will be proper to insert the following brief sketch from one who knew her most intimately:

"Naturally extremely timid, when duty called her fearlessness was wonderful. With nerves so sensitive that the closing of a door would often startle her, in G.o.d's service she looked calmly upon death and danger in every form. Though much and acceptably before the public, the truly feminine graces ever stood forth prominently in her character. With her own hands she often performed the duties of her household, always entertaining much company, not only from neighboring States, but from foreign lands; guided to manhood and womanhood five children, and soothed the last hours of many of her kindred. With a bodily frame very much enfeebled by a complication of diseases, she was constantly being reminded of the uncertainty of her life, and ever lived nearer to heaven than earth. Her mind was frequently absent, and when called back it was found to have wandered after some poor soul who had not yet received the 'good news' which her life was consecrated to publish. So little did she notice the landmarks of this earthly journey that the writer of this can affirm that scenes and places through which she had pa.s.sed a score of times were ever new and unfamiliar to her absent gaze. When engaged in missionary labors her faith that G.o.d would care for her and hers was deep and constant.

G.o.d's commands were her sole guide of her life; when these reached her she prepared to obey them without a thought of the means. Her invariable remark was, 'I am the King's daughter: the gold and silver are mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills.' Before her faith-inspired energy every difficulty vanished. She left the aged and enfeebled mother or the babe at her breast, committing them to the Master in child-like trust. Through all she clung with the relentless grasp of an abiding faith to the promises of her prayer-answering G.o.d, and if ever a cloud came over her way she remained on her knees until she saw its 'silver lining.' It may, then, with truth be said of this woman that her leading aim on earth was the winning of souls to Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the staff on which she leaned the faith of Abraham, and prayer her 'vital breath.'"

There are a few extracts from some of the letters written by Sybil Jones very near the end of her life which will be read with interest, since they set forth the progress of the active religious work which Friends in New England were just beginning at that time, and also give expression to her faith in regard to such work with reference to the necessity of an abiding defence against everything which might hinder permanent blessing.

She writes, 1st mo. 31, 1870, to her dear friend S. T.:

"I agree with thee that a revival is greatly needed, and that one is really begun and is prospering is cause for grateful songs of thanksgiving and praise to Him who causeth the outgoings of this brighter dawning to rejoice. Let our united prayers go up to the 'throne of G.o.d and the Lamb' that upon all the glory there may be a defence. That this glorious visitation will have its temptations we must know, for whenever the Spirit of Christ begins to work for the salvation of souls through the blood of the Lamb, Satan presents himself to defeat by various stratagems, if possible, the blessed work. My faith is, however, that the Most High will protect his own children and his own work, and cause it to prosper and spread abundantly. The bow of promises spans the whole. There is a great awakening in these parts; many old sinners are turning to the Lord and speaking of His great love. Young people too are bringing their early offerings to Him, for which my heart rejoices greatly."

_9th, 22d, 1873._ She writes from Oak Grove Seminary in Maine: "My dearest S., I am still here, and have been so ill I thought I might not see my dear sister any more below or reach my dear little home, my earthly tent; but my gracious Lord has led me up from 'the crossing'

again thus far, and I rejoice in His will, whatever it may be. I have reached this place on my way home, and hope to be able to go in a few days if the Lord will.

"Thou may have heard of the wonderful outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the general meeting in Winthrop. I attended only one session, but I never was more happy. Peace and glory reigned around while poor sinners were coming to Jesus. The gospel full and free and in apostolic simplicity was preached, and great was the company of those who heard it and were moved by its power through the Spirit.

"I cannot tell thee much now. I was laid aside with _my Beloved_, and oh the richness and fulness of His love to His weak child! I seemed to enjoy all that was pa.s.sing in that wonderful tent where three thousand were present on First day. Many from city and country said they never heard such a powerful gospel message before. People are calling in every direction for the Friends to come and hold meetings. Let us be instant in prayer, ready to do our part in the vineyard of the Lord."

_4th mo. 20, 1873._ Not many months before her own departure she writes of her mother's death in a letter to S. T., headed "Travellers'

Home:" "I have been watching a sweet loving mother to the banks of the stream where all of my own family save my lonely self had pa.s.sed before. I felt sure she would see the beautiful summer-time on earth no more; of this she too was aware, and made all needful arrangements for the event to her desirable. She appeared more and more angelic in expression and features as the time drew near to leave us. Her prayers and exhortations at the family altar were offered in great self-abas.e.m.e.nt, but wonderfully beautiful and fervent. The last night was a glorious time to her: though in great suffering, her face appeared so youthful and fair, beaming with such serenity, that all could bear witness to her victory through the blood of the Lamb. Her last sentence only will I mention. Near the close she exclaimed with both cold hands uplifted: 'Glory! glory! glory! I see the angels!'

after this only the word 'glory,' faintly uttered could be heard."

The last public religious service of this dear Friend was at Windham, Maine, during a general meeting held there. Of this last visit a Friend who was present writes:

"First day evening, 11th mo. 3d, 1873, to a crowded house she preached for half an hour from the text, 'If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou me.' As the meeting was to close, she stood and most impressively repeated a farewell hymn, dwelling upon the lines, 'Farewell, poor sinner.' Pausing, she three times repeated these lines. None of us ever listened to a voice of such melody: it is indescribable--so solemn the message, so full of entreaty the tone.

"Her husband attended meeting at Deering on Fourth day following, but she remained in the house. Her messages to individuals in our neighborhood are treasured as coming from one so near the border as to be freighted with heavenly sanct.i.ty.

"From report of quarterly meeting committee I quote: 'We cannot close this report and do justice to appointment and the precious memory of Sybil Jones (since gone to the eternal rest) without referring to her attendance at the general meeting in company with her husband. It was a great blessing to us to be recipients of this closing labor of her peculiarly devoted life. Many can bear witness to the heavenly expression of her countenance, her calmness, earnestness, yet tenderness of spirit, and the unusual unction which attended her ministrations as she pleaded _with_ and _for_ the erring and labored to restore the waste places of our Zion."

CHAPTER XVI.

_ALONE AT HOME._

"Nor blame I Death because he bare The use of virtue out of earth: I know translated human worth Will bloom to profit otherwhere."--_In Memoriam._

It need not be told, and it could not, how the loss of his wife affected Eli Jones, already venerable with age. Those only who have borne a like sorrow know the depth of the wound. The strength of his character and the weight of his love were never shown more fully than in the first years of his widowed life. War had taken his first-born, his sons were at their work in the world, his eldest daughter was married, and the youngest daughter alone was still with him. Though sixty-six years of age, he was yet strong, and knew that much more work was before him if his life should be spared. There was no time given him to rest. Not his to question the ways of Providence, but to work while the day lasted. He could turn his face to no field where he was not reminded of her who had diligently stood by his side, and his loneliness gave a new power to his words. As Tennyson of his departed friend, he could say:

"Far off thou art, but ever nigh; I have thee still, and I rejoice; I prosper circled by thy voice; I shall not lose thee though I die."

For the first few years after the separation he was generally engaged near home. The duties of farm-work filled up the s.p.a.ces between the monthly, quarterly, and general meetings which he attended. The little black horse that all his townsmen knew so well grew very familiar with the winding roads to Va.s.salboro', Brooks, St. Albans, Manchester, and other near-lying towns. "Uncle Eli has come" made all who had gathered at the meeting-house rejoice, and, whether the subject was peace, temperance, or salvation, he spoke strong words to stir the listeners.

During all his life he has loved to till the soil; trees seem to be near friends of his. Lowell is

"Midway to believe A tree among his far progenitors, Such sympathy is his with all the race."

Eli Jones hardly claims relationship with the birches, but they are his close friends, and he has had many happy hours working among his trees. Perhaps he never was a farmer such as the editors of agricultural journals would extol, and it is certain that the hilly fields, with here and there a ledge of rock, in his farm at Dirigo would never have allowed him to acc.u.mulate wealth, even if his work had been exclusively there; but he felt the n.o.bility of the calling.

There was no yoke of bondage to the soil over him, and he got nearer Nature's heart as he planted, as he dug, and as he harvested. Those who exhort to a higher spiritual life can never know too much of the mysteries of animal and plant life; they can never be too conversant with the trials and pains which daily toil brings to those to whom they preach. Paul could touch hearts when he appealed to tentmakers; Peter had an unwonted power when fishermen were before him; and he who holds up hands hardened by hoe and spade will gladly be heard by those who have left the oxen in the furrow to listen to the gospel. Slavery to work narrows the mind, as any slavery does, but diligence in some business will never lessen the depth of a true Christian or weaken the influence of an endowed minister. Eli Jones has always been loved by all the animals in his house and barn, for there is true philosophy in the line, "For Mary loved the lamb, you know." His sheep would come from all corners of the pasture when he came to their feeding-place, and often he took his cane and walked out to give them salt and to learn their ways. Sheep that are loved grow best, and his flock was proof of it. After work he sat under one of the large maples near the house, and while resting, if alone, carefully studied the higher and lower laws of the birds over his head and the insects at his feet. I do not believe he ever knowingly stepped on a worm or beetle, and no life of any kind was ever willingly destroyed by him. He could mow on Fifth day until time for meeting, and then hay-making, and the possibility of showers were out of the realm of his thought, for there was a higher work which needed an undivided mind.

Nothing inanimate has interested him more than fossils and geological specimens. He made a large collection of them, and whenever an unusual stone showed itself under his hoe, it was examined. The perfection of the minute sh.e.l.ls, and consequently of the long-dead animals that once dwelt in them, deeply impressed him. The variety of trees and flowers which were growing in his garden and grounds astonished those who were acquainted only with the birches, beeches, maples, pines, hemlocks, the ordinary growth of the Maine woods; but he was delighted to see trees of other climes flourish in the hard Northern soil of his fields. His apples, pears, and grapes have reached the heart of many a boy who has wondered why his father has always lived contented with "Bitter Sweets" when "Early Harvests" are so good and easy to raise; and an invitation to spend a day in this garden of the Hesperides was not soon to be forgotten; and in fact it was a day of growth in the boy's better nature.

There was something still more gratifying than such an invitation: it was to sit in the "South Meeting-house" when "little David" or Samuel or Joseph was the text. Others might instruct the heads of the meeting, but little eyes, sometimes heavy with sleep, opened and grew larger as the shepherd on the hills of Bethlehem had his arm nerved by the strength of the Lord or as Samuel cried, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." He drew pictures of those far-off scenes until a panorama seemed unrolled and young and old saw the mighty characters of the early dispensation working before them; and it was not long before a new light came over those same hills and new songs filled the air: "Rejoice, for unto you is born, this day, in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."

During these days of farm-life Eli was often chosen to fill the different town offices. As "supervisor of schools" he used to hear the geography lessons and make the map look so large and real that the scholars felt that it in fact represented solid earth. Then he was sure to ask the whole school some question which would start a train of new thoughts, and he was not likely to leave the school-house without setting forth in a novel way the need of learning how to spell and the mistake of trying greater fields of work before this one was conquered.

It was in the "town-meeting--the old "New England town-meeting"--that he showed his peculiar tact and strength. The men of the town were there to settle the knotty question of "new roads," "improved schools," "care of the poor," and a long list of similar points. It is always a question with boys "how they make Presidents," and it is no less so how they make "selectmen and supervisors;" and on these great days young statesmen were being taught there. The speakers for and against the different articles in the "warrant," stood up on benches and spoke. A moderator was appointed who kept order and decided difficult points. The younger, non-voters, were surprised to hear such eloquence and to see such weighty matters handled by men whom they knew only as great woodcutters or haymakers; but it really seemed to them that another Demosthenes must be in the midst of them when Eli Jones began to argue down the weak schemes and prop up the wise plans for public improvement. At least one listener remembers how one important point was settled. The question had been discussed whether the town should pay up its "war debt" and by taking on itself a double tax for one year throw off the burden of a heavy tax each year to pay interest-money. It had been decided affirmatively, but after the meeting was over and the citizens had gone home and talked with their wives, it began to seem to many that too great a step had been taken, and a call was issued for a new meeting to rescind the vote. There was much feeling, and the signs of a strongly divided camp were evident.

The stir indicated that the question was momentous. A plain but strong argument was given to rescind the vote on the ground that it would be wiser to divide the amount and take a number of years to pay it than to impoverish the poor farmers by forcing such a tax upon them at one time. It may have been because the writer was very young and impressible, but the reply seemed to him masterly and worthy of a much greater occasion. Not a word was lost; the answer was brief, and its burden was that it was time to be free from the stigma of this debt, which either those present or their children must pay, and that if every citizen would play the man and do his duty now the debt would be blotted out, and easily. A vote was taken, and by a large majority it was agreed to leave the next generation free from debt by paying it at once; which was done.

The work of a man for the bettering of his own town is not unimportant, though it may seem so when we consider the greater fields of usefulness. He who has roused his neighbors and helped them find a better way of educating their sons and daughters has accomplished a work of immense importance. If all the towns and villages were taken care of, the State would soon rest on a sure foundation, and he is a skilful physician who labors to _heal_ the troubles in the towns which supply _life_ to the cities. Eli Jones has always said that the great aim must ever be to get the individual home in a proper condition. It is not possible to show how much he quietly did in the years he spent at Dirigo, but certainly it was time well used, and we need not lament that he was "hemmed in" by county lines. What he did is poorly and briefly recorded here, but it is written imperishably somewhere, not infrequently on the impressible hearts of men.

CHAPTER XVII.

_LATER VISITS TO THE EAST._