While she was writing this letter, news was on the way to Congo destined to fill the heart of Mrs. Lewis with heavy sorrow, sorrow which her husband would share profoundly, and in which all our Congo missionaries would have their part. Some few months earlier, in writing to Miss Hartland, Mrs. Lewis said: “I am sure we shall never cease to thank God for all the love and kindness which dear mother and you have shown to us. Having lost our own mothers, we have appreciated her love all the more.”
On September 13th, Mrs. Hartland died. Mrs. Lewis’s diary for 1892 is missing, and the letter or letters in which she poured out her own sorrow, and her sympathy with those whom the bereavement touched yet more nearly, have not come to my hand. Assured that Mrs. Lewis would desire some tribute to the “dear mother,” who loved her so well, to appear in the record of her own life, I venture to reprint certain paragraphs from a short article which I wrote a few days after Mrs. Hartland had entered into rest[4]:—
“After four years of heroic service John Hartland died in Comber’s arms, and his mother bowed her head, as mothers do. But when she rose again, it was not to regard this costly Congo Mission with reserved toleration which applauded itself for not changing to dislike, but with self-devotion and enthusiastic love. The life of her son was in the Mission; so she took it to her heart and carried it gently in her bosom before God.
“Mrs. Hartland lived as much upon the Congo as in Falkland Road, and was more intimately acquainted with the history of the Mission, internal and external, than perhaps any other person, excepting only Mr. Baynes. Almost all the missionaries knew her. Before they went out they were invited to Falkland Road, and when the interview was over they knew themselves to be possessed of at least one mother-hearted friend. Aware of the secret of her love each man and woman honoured her unspoken claim to some measure of their filial affection, and the motherless among them called her “mother.” Upon returning to this country they went to see her, naturally; and while upon the field many of them corresponded with her, receiving letters which were like cold water in a thirsty land. Many times have I seen her, with hands distorted and half paralysed by relentless rheumatism, writing painfully and patiently to her friends upon the Congo. Her letters were peculiarly precious, because they were indited by one who understood the work, who loved the workers, and believed in God. And so from one quiet heart, in one quiet London home, there went forth waves of spiritual energy that were felt hundreds of miles above Stanley Pool. This was her work. She wrote till she could no longer hold the pen; she dictated till she could no longer think sustainedly by reason of agony and growing weakness; then she sent messages; then she murmured prayers; and now she is with Him Who ever liveth to make intercession for us.
“We do not know much about the gates of heaven. We do not know whether some vigilant angel on the battlements of God’s city announces with silver trumpet the coming of the enfranchised soul. We do not know whether comrades and kinsfolk hurry to the gates to welcome and congratulate their beloved. We can only dream. But if it be so, the sainted heroes of the Congo Mission were by the gates last week.
“Two things were remarkable in Mrs. Hartland’s life to all who knew her—unselfishness and faith, evinced in little things and great. A few days before her death I visited her, and, leaning over her bed that my voice might reach the ear that was growing heavy I noticed four exquisite roses lying near her face. She insisted that I should take one. In my prayer, I used the word ‘doubts,’ and I shall never forget the quick and confident words that followed the ‘Amen’—‘I have no doubts.’ Verily, she has none.”
CHAPTER VIII
SECOND TERM AT SAN SALVADOR—continued
Though the missionaries craved greater progress the work of the year 1892 was encouraging, and their devotion and their hope were unabated. In his official report Mr. Lewis records that eleven persons were baptized during the year, and that the membership stands at forty-seven, a clear increase of nine. The Christmas collection was again made with enthusiasm, and concerning this Mr. Lewis writes: “We closed the year by making a special effort to seat our chapel. We have a spacious native building, but it has never been seated, and our few forms are next to no good. We suggested that the Church and congregation should join in defraying the expenses of good pitch-pine seats on iron standards, ordered from England. They took it up enthusiastically, and last week made a collection with this object. The meeting was the largest we ever had in Congo, and goods to the value of £50 were taken. This is more than we really needed, but we can use it in some other way.”