It was the one bright, beautiful day of a cold, wet spring, and the celandines spread and glistened like stars round the grave where we laid him, and bade him our last 'God be with you' with the 23rd Psalm, and went home, hoping that he would not blame us for irreverence for thinking of him in words applied to the first saint who bore his name: 'He was a burning and a shining light, ... continue reading

My dear Anne Most peaceful, most gentle has the day been. The Psalms suited perfectly, and while we said ‘In His pleasure is Life,’ a butterfly flew about in the sunshine in church. I had a short talk with the Bishop of Brechin and told him your abode, and he hopes to come and see you about the end of the week. You had not sent me the Hursley letter about our dear Louisa. When you ... continue reading

My dear Miss Jacob, First to answer the question I forgot in my last note. That Sphinx is a faithless monster, he (or she) never came to us this month, nor have I heard of one any where. There is a very good new set of acrostics by A. A. G. published by Lothian.

You are very good to take so kindly all my criticisms of the Gates of Paradise. I feel it rather like the atmosphere ... continue reading

My dear Emma I may write a Sunday letter to say how much it has been to me to read such a record of the good old days of Nest, and all the wonderful ‘go’ there was at Wantage. It was like the sparkling stream, and the clear, still, reflecting pool, both equally pure, but one full of ripples, broken but bright, and the other silent and meditative. And what a development! Certainly ... continue reading