  The Reverend Edward Beale, a member of the Society of St. John the Evangelist, Cowley, died at Mazagon, Bombay Presidency, on February 3, 1894. He was a younger brother to whom Miss Beale was much attached. His early promise of a brilliant career was cut short by severe illness while he was still an undergraduate at Oxford. For years he was wholly incapacitated, but on recovering partial health he received deacon’s orders, and before joining St. John’s Society, worked for a time at Warminster. Here he gave the addresses afterwards published under the title of The Mind of Christ. From Cowley Mr. Beale was sent to the Society’s Mission in Bombay. He was much beloved and looked up to by those among whom he worked. At the time of his death (which occurred after a very short illness) he was engaged to read a paper at the coming Diocesan Conference on ‘The Necessity of Faith in the Church as the Fullest Possible Manifestation of the Life of God in Creation.’ His funeral was attended by a crowd of the poorest poor. The following lines in her brother Edward’s handwriting, found among Miss Beale’s papers, seem to be undoubtedly original, and to tell the history of his consecrated life:— INDIA—WRITTEN IN ILLNESS, 1884. Once I was wont to prize Glance from approving eyes, And sun myself too fondly in their light. Too eager to entwine The flowers about Love’s shrine With pulses throbbing with a wild delight. And one who loved me said, With voice of boding dread, ‘Oh child, these hopes will fade, these flowers will die, And what will then remain To ease the long, slow pain, Unless your heart be lifted up on high? ... Once when I heard a name Of high heroic fame, Of lives of lasting influence for good, I felt my heart on fire With one long vague desire To join the ranks of those who have withstood. But now I do not ask For such heroic task, My heart is all too faint to stand the glare, My eyes too weak to see The path laid out for me, I only wait and feel that One is there. ... One, at whose blessed feet I lie in silence sweet Perhaps unheeded as the world goes by, There only lying still Waiting to know His Will, Till He shall bend on me His gracious eye. Then in that glorious gleam Shall every earthborn dream, Darkness, delusion, doubt all flee away: Truth shall be brought to light, Faith shall be lost in sight, In the clear shining of the perfect day! |
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