March 21st, 1877.
To Mr. Cockerell.
Did you know Mrs. Nassau Senior?... I sit waiting for the telegram that shall tell me that she is gone from among us. I feel stunned; for I had large hope from her vigorous constitution; and now this relapse is strange. She was, among my many friends, one of the noblest, purest-hearted, bravest to accept, for herself and all she loved, pain, if pain meant choice of highest good; with an ardent longing to serve, a burning generosity, which put us all to shame. Moreover she loved me, as few do; and I her; and, when I think that I can go to her no more, I dare not think of what the loss will be. But neither dare I grieve; she seems too high, too near, too great, to grieve for or about; the silence will be terrible, but if one keeps one’s spirit true and quiet, and in tune with the noblest part of the absent loved ones, strange voices come across the silence, convictions of how they feel, and what they would say, if they could, to our listening hearts; only I know this and all things come straight to us from One Who cares for us; that His truth, somehow, the fact He has allowed to be, is best; and it is a help so to have loved Truth thro’ all one’s life, that, when she veils herself in darkest guise, we dare not turn from her....
I am busy about Quaker’s Burial Ground, and Archbishop’s meeting and other things.
Derwent Bank,
March 27th, 1877.
To Mrs. Edmund Maurice.
I have replied to Mr. L. and Fawcett pretty much in full ... and reiterate my own strong conviction that the railway is not needed, that it will spoil the Heath’s beauty and need not increase accessibility; compare the erection of a station to any which might be erected in Kensington Gardens on the same plea; state my own opinions strongly, and “let it work.” You will judge whether to do more. I am doing my little best—which means many fruitless letters about Bunhill Fields, the Archbishop’s meeting, ... and my poor Lambeth. It is unfruitful work so far; but all things must have a season of sowing, and the reaping must come some day. Numbers of people, too, are doing their best to help, which is beautiful.... I have, you see, so very much of many kinds in my life.
A letter on the opening of B. Court Club on Sunday.
April 13th, 1877.