BINGHAM.

ing there are no more. Mr.
the revised and enlarged

importance it is that there
follow ground now, the
water it from on high!
feeling of responsibility
break we are!"

union with you all, and,
means of supplying them,
of us in these matters.
Not waxeth not old upon
our clothing fails
There may be special
mer of washing. We
practice, but we do it
clothes back to the
old water. You can
have such care of them
it be in a situation to
where thousands sur-
viving help of every
be fully appreciated
from careful attention
to a bad habit and from
be very ready in
upon as pressing

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

63

duties. We have some trials on this score, but
they are small things to dwell upon. I must,
however, say that I hope it will not be inferred
that we would spare effort to teach the poor peo-
ple to be as nice and particular in all their domes-
tic matters as ever we were taught to be. But
you cannot think how much is to be done where,
for all you do, you must look out a foundation.
If we should devote the good part of one day
every week to taking hold with all our strength
of the washing, how little would it avail the
nation's good. Not one in a thousand of the
poor inhabitants could go and do likewise, for the
want of means. No, we had better send our
clothing to be faded in the sun and pounded on
the stones, and if we have any energy that day
employ it in numberless untold ways, waking up
the energies of those about us—first, to wish for,
and next to look out means for obtaining even a
piece of soap to commence this one work with.

"Our hearts are sometimes ready to sink. To raise a nation from the dust, and place them where our ideas of comfort, virtue, and happiness would have them, is not the work of a day. Patient, persevering effort will be long called for. We receive encouragement by looking back. The contrast of present things with things with which we began, has a happy effect upon the mind.

64

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

And then *God's promises*, they chase away the
darkness.

To Mrs. Fidelia Coan—
1839.

"Seeing it to be an impossibility to effect much in his study here, we have devised the plan of Mr. B.'s retreating to his charming little study in Manoa, making it the early object of the morning, taking a little lunch to eat on the rocks under the trees, and remaining at his work till the light of the sun began to withdraw behind the hills. Thus the Psalms came to a close, with care so far as plodding over Hebrew books was concerned. I staid by the stuff; house thronged, beginning with the dawn of day, till husband left the door, the people gathering again a little before sunset, so that it was literally in a crowd that he entered his door and found a seat at the table, some time after lamps were lighted.

"The plan for the translation of Ezekiel was to have him leave things with me, and improve the offer of a quiet room with Mr. Bishop at Ewa. That plan kept up my courage greatly. But when the time came, there were too serious remonstrances here to be altogher disregarded, and so, doing the best he can, he is counting off the chapters in that book. I have got such a habit of concern lest he should be needlessly in-

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

65

terrupted that I know very little, from week to week, of indulgence with my pen, my book, or even the rest of my chair.

"When expecting him to go to Ewa, I was aware the plan would involve in it great responsibilities for me, but I was very earnest for it, and erring, perhaps, in judgment, ventured to bring in, in connection with it, another concern which would prove more than the work of a day. This was the inclosing of Punahou, availing myself of what had already been done toward it. I thought I could spare Keawe, who, under my direction, would go forward in the business. . . . From step to step advance has been made, till there is something pretty tangible in an extensive stone wall nearly completed. We have brushed up the cottage, which appeared so in ruins. By parish kindness the roof was put on, and the plastering is now going on. An acre or more about the house has been made smooth, rubbish carried off, pits filled, something planted.* This work has brought me with the people; particular acquaintances are made every week by tens and scores. I seem to know them, in that vicinity,

*There is now on this stone wall a vigorous growth of night-blooming cereus, on which there have been counted at one time over two thousand blossoms.

5

66

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

their places of residence, their families, and man-
ner of living, as I never knew them before. Last
Wednesday I rode to Waikiki; had a meeting
with a house full of mothers and children. After
this visited eleven families, called at the doors
of two or three more, rode back to Punahou, at-
tended to matters there, then got myself and
family home *makai*, where it was necessary to
get something that would answer to a meal, in a
destitute house, so surrounded by the people as
scarcely to find a place to spread my table.
Dear husband must be helped to reach his pul-
pit for the evening meeting, and children put to
bed before I could think of a moment's pause to
rest. Your tender concern so often manifested
for me must be my apology for such minutæ as
this, savoring so much, too, of a certain some-
thing which we all dislike. I want to have you
know how my heavenly Father prolongs my
days, and in compassion gives me, day by day, a
degree of strength which surprises me and calls
for gratitude."

1844.

"My thoughts have been steadily fixed on a
return to Oahu. I had fully expected that we
should have embarked this last autumn. All
matters in my own mind were soberly and care-
fully arranged for it. It was not till the delib-

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

67

erate opinion of medical gentlemen, in whom
confidence was placed, was distinctly and fully
expressed in the case, that the hope of our speedy
return was relinquished. I feel satisfied about
it, although it has caused some strongly conflict-
ing emotions. I feel that I see and know very
little of God's holy purposes. If I think that cer-
tain links of the great chain of his providences
are to be put together thus and so, and I attempt
the task but a little, I am soon out—obliged to
give it up—can only say, 'Thou, Lord, knowest.'
I long to have my spirit more imbued with the
faith of those who, 'not having received the
promises, were yet persuaded of them and em-
braced them,' confessing themselves 'strangers
and pilgrims on the earth.' O my friend,
fainting in our pilgrimage here, what glorious
things does the blessed Gospel hold up to our
view! A better country, a heavenly—its right-
eous Sovereign not ashamed to be called our God,
our Father, our Redeemer."

1846.

"My generous, sympathizing cousins in their
kindness beguile me into a sort of quietude about
staying with them, except as it may be I
occasionally, though cautiously, lest I grieve
them, start up, look here and there as if I must
discern some path, hear some voice, or get some

68

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

indication in some way that our encampment
had been long enough. . . . 'Have you a
child with you?' No, good sister, not one. And
here too I sometimes start up as if called to con-
sider if this is in accordance with the divine con-
stitution of things, whether we have not mis-
taken our duty, are doing penance never required
of us by our gracious heavenly Father, yea,
whether we are not going contrary to his holy
will. As years have passed on, though ofttimes
the path has been rough, my heart has melted at
thought of God's condescension in making it as
plain. Now the days come when as travelers
perhaps out of the path, a thick mist envelops
us, the road so shut in that we make our way
scarcely discerning for dimness even the next
step. But what a blessed privilege to know as-
suredly that we have reached no such spot as this
in our pilgrimage, forgotten and forsaken of Him
who is the way, and the truth, and the life."

June 9, 1846.

"As believers in inspiration, we are ready to say, 'All things are of God.' But the longer I live the more I feel that we fall below our privilege if we fail to see and acknowledge his holy hand in the detail of their operations. What is there that gives interest to life's affairs like viewing them all laid out in the divine mind—the

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

69

smallest being of importance in its own proper
place, and all, taken together, making part of a
plan perfect, boundless, and eternal. Take from
me the long-cherished trust in this precious doc-
trine of God's particular providence, and to my
weary spirit there would be written on all, whether
of life's turmoil or quietude, 'Vanity of vanities;
all is vanity.'

“Our blessed Master, for wise and holy reasons,
is pleased, just now, to give no intimation by his
providence that he has need farther of our poor
services. But he is gracious and infinitely con-
descending. It is not a vain thing to wait for
him—yea to ‘wait patiently for the Lord.’ It is
a great change to come—scarcely knowing how or
by what process—from a post where a nation, so
to speak, was the burden on the shoulders, and
many eyes from different lands turned to see how
it was borne, to a seclusion in which the grand
requirement seems to be to sit quietly, patiently
waiting to know if we may yet be privileged to
occupy somewhere in the great field. My daily
prayer is for a meek and quiet spirit, with mine
eyes ever to the Lord.”

July, 1846.

“Praised be the name of the Blessed One, that
while sometimes panting under the weakness and
infirmities of the poor shattered tenement, sighing

70

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

at the long-continued separation from tender, much-loved children, or wandering as a stranger, feeling nowhere at home, still his grace enables me with delight to sing, 'Jesus, my God, I know his name —his name is all my trust.' . . . It was there we came to the decision I had supposed we could never make,—to relinquish the idea of a return to our work abroad. I need not tell you what this has cost, but you will pity me when I say even more than I thought it would. I seem with it to give up the expectation of health; and as to *home*, I see not where it can be on earth. And yet the very fact that *we* have not meant so, comforts me with the precious thought that *divine Wisdom* has meant so, and God's holy plans are being accomplished in all.

“Of all my family not one to be my charge, while the maternal heart flutters over them as if by its fluttering the little scattered brood could be brought again under the wing. Not infrequently my husband is away for a few days, and then it is that with a certain indefinable feeling I look around and find nothing to call mine. The heart is agitated with a kind of solicitous restlessness, some little seasons; but I think they are not long or frequent. I am quieted—yea, more—rich in comfort as I bring the dear objects and cast them on my gracious Saviour’s care, while for myself I

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

71

feel that to be good which helps to cherish the
spirit of pilgrim and sojourner below.”

August 22, 1846.

"I have been greatly indulged in the years that
have gone by. With a constitution not the most
vigorous, I have yet been allowed to form and
pursue plans, and accomplish my purposes to a
degree that has often demanded my gratitude,
and without any uncommon flow of animal
spirits, I have yet had uniformly a buoyancy, a
steady courage, a delight in pressing onward to
some of the many objects set before me. For such
a position as ours is now I seem never to have
made any provision. How much of this sinking
of spirit is to be attributed to the long-protracted
feebleness of its poor tenement it is not easy to say.
And how much health and cheerfulness are both
affected by long-protracted homelessness, it is not
easy to say. It costs something for woman to
come down from her proud post of wife and
mother in a household, where a few loved beings
daily feel the influence of the efforts she may
make for their comfort, to a state of dependence
and insignificance, looking on to see others confer
the favors and perform the offices which it was
once her delight to regard as her own prerogative.
But I stop, and if what I have last penned savors
of complaint against my heavenly Father's wise

72

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM.

arrangements, I would blot it out, ashamed of my
ingratitude.

"I never dare to ask that we be not disciplined,
on the contrary, am sometimes with a full heart
ready to say, 'Anything, the Lord sustaining us
under it, rather than not be made meet for the
inheritance of the saints in light.'"

To her sister—

East Hampton, December 26, 1847.

"With a heart overflowing with strongest feelings of tenderness and sympathy, and manifold subjects on which free remark and full communication could be made, I seat myself to the business of writing you, dear sister, trembling and afraid. These are days such as in my experience have not fallen to my lot before. O Lord, 'what time I am afraid, I will trust in thee'! I long to let you know how I feel. The mental struggles I sometimes have, the bodily sufferings new and undefinable which daily impede my course, would move your susceptible heart. And may I express myself after this wise to my mourning sister, borne down with her own tender and complicated trials?"

Evening, seven o'clock.

"It will trouble you to hear me say, *I cannot write*,
and that when everything invites me to it. It

SYBIL MOSELEY BINGHAM

73

does so grieve me when the subject comes up (and
that it often does) of your bereavement,—the des-
olation of your home and heart, your feeble state
of health, to add to all what must seem to you a
lack of sympathy and interest on my part, when
with bleeding heart you turned with confidence
for a full measure of both. It must be explained
—sad explanation, indeed, does this page give
you. But let God’s holy will be done. ‘As for
God, his way is perfect.’ The Lord in great mercy
give us strength and holy trust ever to hold onto
this. I must bid you good-night. It is Sabbath.
I had no doubts on the ground of appropriating
its sacred hours. The family all at meeting, ex-
cept L., everything in—”

It is supposed she intended to write "inviting,"
but the word is cut short at the end of the page.
The letter was never finished, and we have no
knowledge that she ever dipped her pen again.

ed of my
sciplined,
full heart
ining us
it for the

gest feel-
manifold
mmuni-
business
afraid.
ce have
at time I
let you
I some-
I unde-
would
express
sister,
blicated

ot write,
it. It