and she began to be more in earnest about her soul.  One night she got into conversation with a Christian companion, and bursting into tears told her in French that she wished to love Jesus but could not.  Her companion begged her to go to Jesus and tell Him this.  Of this advice she says, “The words of wise and even eminent men have since then fallen on my ear, but few have brought the dewy refreshment to my soul which the simple loving words of my little Heaven-taught schoolfellow did.”  But peace had not yet come into her soul.

At length, in February, 1851, Frances made a confidante of Miss Cook, who in July, 1851, became her stepmother, and confessed that she desired pardon of her sins above everything else.  She thus writes in her autobiography:  “‘Then, Fanny,’ said Miss Cook, ’I think, I am sure, it will not be very long before your desire is granted, your hope fulfilled.”  After a few more words, she said, “Why cannot you trust yourself to your Saviour at once?  Supposing that now, at this moment, Christ were to come in the clouds of heaven, and take up His redeemed, could you not trust Him?  Would not His call, His promise be enough for you?  Could you not commit your soul to Him, to your Saviour, Jesus?’ Then came a flash of hope across me which made me feel literally breathless.  I remember how my heart beat.  ‘I could surely,’ was my response; and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs to think it out.  I flung myself on my knees in my room, and strove to realise the sudden hope.  I was very happy at last.  I could commit my soul to Jesus.  I did not and need not fear His coming.  I could trust Him with my all for eternity.  It was so utterly new to have any bright thoughts about religion that I could hardly believe it could be so, that I really had gained such a step.  Then and there I committed my soul to the Saviour—­I do not mean to say without any trembling or fear, but I did—­and earth and heaven seemed bright from that moment—­I did trust the Lord Jesus.”

In August, 1851, she went to school at Powick Court, near Worcester; but, owing to severe erysipelas in her face and head, she soon had to leave, and was ordered by the doctor to discontinue all study.  She spent some time in Wales, and learnt Welsh very quickly.  In November, 1852, she went with her parents to Germany, and attended school, standing alone as a follower of the Saviour among one hundred and ten girls.  She progressed very rapidly in her studies.  Though as a rule no girl was numbered in order of merit unless she had learnt everything (and she, through lack of time, had not done so), yet at the end of the term on the prize-giving day, when the names were called out, she heard with unspeakable pleasure the words, “Frances Havergal, numero eins!” (number one).  The “Englaenderin’s” papers and conduct were so good that the masters agreed in council assembled to break through the rule for once and give her the place she deserved.