CHAPTER XV.

_SYBIL JONES: HER LIFE-WORK AND DEATH._

"For ever blessed be His name who bore Her blood-washed, white-robed spirit on and on, Through dark, deep waters to the radiant shore, Her warfare ended and the victory won.

"Her children, underneath her native skies, Rise in the North, the South, the East, the West: In Europe, Asia, Africa they rise, Her sons and daughters, and pronounce her blessed.

"Oh for a zeal like hers, to never tire! Oh for a faith like hers, to follow still The cloud by day, by night the glowing fire, That led her on to do her Father's will!"

DELPHINA E. MENDENHALL, "_To Sybil Jones._"

After the return from the East a few more days were left for Sybil Jones to tell the same story to men and women nearer her own home. Her frail body had carried her to many shores, and had not given way until she was once more among lifelong friends.

She had presented Christianity to Mohammedan women "from the standard of equality of sex in social life, religion, and the ministry of the word." She had entered the "gilded cages" of Eastern harems and "borne the gospel with a sister's love to those unhappy inmates--glad tidings which they had never heard until proclaimed by her lips." With no relaxation of fervor, with no diminution of power, she continued to tell those not living in communion with God that "to be carnally-minded is death," and with the earnestness of one saving drowning men from the depths of the sea she stretched forth her hands and raised her touching voice to save them from a still worse death, the wages of their sins. The series of general meetings which Friends had just begun to hold gave her an opportunity to come before large audiences of all denominations, of the different classes. Many who came were unconverted; many more were in a dangerously lukewarm state; others needed strength and comfort. To one and all she proclaimed the great truth that whosoever liveth unto himself dieth, but "whoso hath the Son hath life;" and to the hearts where sorrow and discouragement and doubt dwelt she spoke of a joy for the world, an encouragement "to press toward the mark for the prize," a faith and belief that overcome. Over those long Maine hills, in the balmy air of autumn, fresh from the yellow grain and mellow fruit, or creaking through the snowdrifts of mid-winter, she and her husband, both with the same thought uppermost, rode to sit down on the high seats of those broad-based, low-eaved Friends' meeting-houses, and to rise again and speak messages of healing inspired by the great Physician. She loved to live, for every day gave her one more chance to call to the unhappy to be made happy. She loved to live, because she enjoyed the beautiful things which God brought daily before her eyes in His book written with His own hand. It was, too, a joy to her to be with her family, to be a mother to her dear children, a wife to her wedded fellow-laborer, and a friend to the many who loved her; but while she loved life she knew enough of our God to be assured that when her "bark sank it would be but to another sea," and that what we call death is but going from a chrysalis life to a fulness of knowledge and a fulness of life. No change that merely freed her of what could die and left her wholly immortal could be terrible to her, and so she had never, in all the days of extreme sickness which she had passed, had other thought than that she was being kept from work. To the very last she pleaded with her wonted earnestness: "I beseech you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God," and she loved to quote the hymn which expressed the aspiration of her soul:

"Oh, if _one soul_ I've pleaded with Meets me at God's right hand, My heaven will be two heavens In Immanuel's Land."

The thought has often been expressed that as the spiritual life of a man or woman grows, develops, and gains complete mastery, the body gradually takes on a new and deeper beauty; a something which had not formerly existed shines out and hallows the face, and somewhat as the setting sun puts over the clouds a glory which throughout all the long sunshiny day had not been seen, so a brighter gleam comes out from a ripened soul, and it becomes more than ever evident that the inhabitant of the clay house had come "trailing clouds of glory from God who is its home." This was decidedly true with her. The tall, erect, queenly person, the large head, high forehead, deep hazel eyes, the smile which so often played upon the lines of her countenance,--all took a new meaning as the "light which never was on sea or land" shone through them, proving that her "citizenship was in heaven" and that she indeed was "a fellow-citizen of the saints." We know not what is beyond our ken for such as she, but we believe that He who created such a wondrous home for the mortal part has otherwhere a proportionally magnificent domain for that which dieth not. A few hours before she died she exclaimed in the words of the martyr Rutherford:

"Oh, well it is for ever, Oh, well for evermore, My nest hung in no forest Of all this death-doomed shore."

And on the afternoon of the 4th day of 12th month, 1873, she left the life of toil and struggle for the life of reward.

Ellen Congdon of Providence wrote in fitting words: "I have taken comfort in the midst of this great bereavement to the Church militant in thinking of the rejoicing and the welcome as her ransomed spirit took its place among the redeemed of all generations. Yet, far, far beyond even this must have been the holy rapture with which she realized the fulfilment of that gracious promise: 'Thine eyes shall behold the King in His beauty, and thou shalt see the land that is very far off.'"

The governor of the State showed his appreciation of the departed one in the following extract from a letter to her son Richard: "Had it been possible I should have been present at the funeral services. I remember your mother from my boyhood, and received the news of her death with profound sorrow. She exemplified the true Christian character in a degree rarely equalled in this life; indeed, she has always appeared to me more in the heavenly than the earthly. In her death the Christian religion has lost one of its brightest ornaments and noblest defenders. Yours is the priceless consolation which the gospel and the remembrance of a life so full of noble deeds afford. Any words of mine would be poor and weak, but I cannot forbear conveying to you and your much-esteemed father, whom I have known and honored for many years, my heartiest sympathy. Yours very truly,

"SIDNEY PERHAM."

Her funeral, held in the Friends' meeting-house, was attended by a large company of friends, relatives, and neighbors. The citizens of the town came in large numbers to look for the last time on the one whom they loved and reverenced. Harriet Jones, Samuel Taylor, Sarah Tobey, and others spoke feelingly. "All hearts were moved," says one who was present, "as our venerable and highly esteemed friend Eli Jones arose, controlling the feelings of a heart filled with sorrow, and revealed what had heretofore been kept by him--viz. the manifestation of divine power that had attended her mission while they travelled in foreign lands; also the blessing following her labors during the past few months in attending some one hundred and forty meetings, principally in her own State, in which she appeared like a reaper gathering the harvest."

It is never well for us to speak over-highly of any one or of the service of any one. Power speaks for itself. We spend no breath of praise on the might of Niagara or the majesty of Mont Blanc. God has made them so that they tell us themselves continually of their grandeur. In like manner, the character and work of his human creatures tell to their generation and the following ones their strength and worth without the aid of man's voice.

What Sybil Jones did and said has been felt and has made its impression in the world, and no word which now might be spoken could add to what she really accomplished. For sixty-five years she went about doing what she seemed to have been sent to do. She was under no shackles of creed, but she had a faith which anchored her; she built on a foundation which had already been laid, and she wasted none of her energy seeking answers to unnecessary questions. Her whole heart was in her work, and nothing held her back in her desire to go on herself to perfection and to call others thereto. The power of her spiritual discernment was shown in numerous cases where she told minutely the state and feeling of some before her, and she felt out wonderfully the proper course for her to take. She seemed to grow stronger as she engaged in a new field of work, and not unusually she left her bed of sickness to undertake an arduous journey for an absence of one or two years. She went from Ireland to Norway on a couch, and there endured remarkable hardships, but grew stronger as she worked, and was almost daily before the people for the next six months. She had a striking influence over unprincipled and dangerous men, and she never hesitated to go alone among the greatest outcasts. The swearing sailors on the ship for Liberia grew more gentle as they knew her, and she walked fearlessly into the cell of one of the worst prisoners in the United States: he was touched to tears and blessed the day that brought her to him.

As a minister she was especially gifted in exhortation and prayer, but she knew the Bible, and she knew experimentally the meaning of its promises and commandments. Her use of language was remarkable: every thought she wished to express was clothed richly, every truth was made clear to her hearers, and no words were wasted. God gave her a voice, not like Milton's, "whose sound was like the sea," but soft as the wind in the trees and strong to reach the farthest seats. There was a music in it which charmed, and a reserved power and volume which she could use when the occasion called for it.

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 multitudes 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 attitude, 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 God, and like her she sought earnestly to distinguish minutely between her own impulses and the promptings of the Spirit of God; 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 attitude 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,

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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 Cumæ'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 God'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 passed a score of times were ever new and unfamiliar to her absent gaze. When engaged in missionary labors her faith that God would care for her and hers was deep and constant. God'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 God, 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.'"

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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 God 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 passing 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 passed 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-abasement, 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 sanctity.

"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."