Juliana Horatia Ewing And Her Books | Page 3

tracing likenesses
between some of the characters in her books, and many whom she met
in real life; but let me say, once for all, that she never drew "portraits"
of people, and even if some of us now and then caught glimpses of
ourselves under the clothing she had robed us in, we only felt ashamed
to think how unlike we really were to the glorified beings whom she
put before the public.
Still less did she ever do with her pen, what an artistic family of
children used to threaten to do with their pencils when they were vexed
with each other, namely, to "draw you ugly."
It was one of the strongest features in my sister's character that she
"received but what she gave," and threw such a halo of sympathy and
trust round all with whom she came in contact, that she seemed to see
them "with larger other eyes than ours," and treated them accordingly.
On the whole, I am sure this was good in its results, though the pain
occasionally of awakening to disappointment was acute; but she
generally contrived to cover up the wound with some new shoot of
Hope. On those in whom she trusted I think her faith acted favourably.
I recollect one friend whose conscience did not allow him to rest quite
easy under the rosy light through which he felt he was viewed, saying
to her: "It's the trust that such women as you repose in us men, which
makes us desire to become more like what you believe us to be."
If her universal sympathy sometimes led her to what we might hastily

consider "waste her time" on the petty interests and troubles of people
who appeared to us unworthy, what were we that we should blame her?
The value of each soul is equal in God's sight; and when the books are
opened there may be more entries than we now can count of hearts
comforted, self-respect restored, and souls raised by her help to fresh
love and trust in God,--ay, even of old sins and deeds of shame turned
into rungs on the ladder to heaven by feet that have learned to tread the
evil beneath them. It was this well-spring of sympathy in her which
made my sister rejoice as she did in the teaching of the now
Chaplain-General, Dr. J.C. Edghill, when he was yet attached to the
iron church in the South Camp, Aldershot. "He preaches the gospel of
Hope," she said--hope that is in the latent power which lies hidden even
in the worst of us, ready to take fire when touched by the Divine flame,
and burn up its old evil into a light that will shine to God's glory before
men. I still possess the epitome of one of these "hopeful" sermons,
which she sent me in a letter after hearing the chaplain preach on the
two texts: "What meanest thou, O sleeper? arise, call upon thy God";
"Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall
give thee light."
It has been said that, in his story of "The Old Bachelor's Nightcap,"
Hans Andersen recorded something of his own career. I know not if
this be true, but certainly in her story of "Madam Liberality"[1] Mrs.
Ewing drew a picture of her own character that can never be surpassed.
She did this quite unintentionally, I know, and believed that she was
only giving her own experiences of suffering under quinsy, in
combination with some record of the virtues of One whose powers of
courage, uprightness, and generosity under ill-health she had always
regarded with deep admiration. Possibly the virtues were
hereditary,--certainly the original owner of them was a relation; but,
however this may be, Madam Liberality bears a wonderfully strong
likeness to my sister, and she used to be called by a great friend of ours
the "little body with a mighty heart," from the quotation which appears
at the head of the tale.
[Footnote 1: Reprinted in "A Great Emergency and other Tales."]

The same friend is now a bishop in another hemisphere from ours, but
he will ever be reckoned a "great" friend. Our bonds of friendship were
tied during hours of sorrow in the house of mourning, and such as these
are not broken by after-divisions of space and time. Mrs. Ewing named
him "Jachin," from one of the pillars of the Temple, on account of his
being a pillar of strength at that time to us. Let me now quote the
opening description of Madam Liberality from the story:--
It was not her real name; it was given to her by her brothers and sisters.
People with very marked qualities of character do sometimes get such
distinctive titles to rectify the indefiniteness of those