The Vicar of Wakefield

Posted on September 16, 2026 by Barbara Harper

The Vicar of Wakefield is the only novel and best-known writing by Oliver Goldsmith. His other work includes poems, essays, and plays.

The title character is a Dr. Charles Primrose, a vicar in an English country village, married with four sons and two daughters. He’s fairly well-to-do and generous in giving his money to the poor.

Just as the vicar’s oldest son, George, is about to be married, the vicar learns the person he invested a large sum of money with has lost his money and left town. George’s fiance’s father calls off the wedding.

Thus begins a series of catastrophes for the Primrose family. They have to move to a smaller parish only to find their landlord, Squire Thornhill, is a womanizer who preys on one of the vicar’s daughter. Their house burns down, the vicar is thrown into prison by Thornhill, and that’s maybe about a third of the family’s troubles.

Primrose is not faultless–he’s too trusting and somewhat pigheaded about certain beliefs that no one else agrees with. But he maintains his faith and integrity throughout and is ultimately rewarded.

Some of the quotes that stood out to me:

No situation, however wretched it seems, but has some sort of comfort attending it.

I armed her against the censures of the world, shewed her that books were sweet unreproaching companions to the miserable, and that if they could not bring us to enjoy life, they would at least teach us to endure it.

We are not to judge the feelings of others by what we might feel in their place.

The heart that is buried in a dungeon is as precious as that seated upon a throne.

I’ve seen this called a “sentimental” novel but also a satire of the upper classes as compared to the Primrose family’s more simple lifestyle. I’ve also seen it called a satire of a sentimental novel.

This book has been mentioned in several other classics, according to Wikipedia: George Eliot’s Middlemarch, Jane Austen’s Emma, Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities and David Copperfield, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Charlotte Brontë’s Villette, and Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, to name a few.

I can’t say I enjoyed the book as much as I thought I would. It was written in the 1760s, about a hundred years before many other classics I’ve read. I don’t know if it was the language (one political diatribe was six-page long paragraph, and one chapter title is “Happiness and misery rather the result of prudence than of virtue in this life. Temporal evils or felicities being regarded by heaven as things merely in themselves trifling and unworthy its care in the distribution”). Or perhaps the audiobook narration I listened to dulled the story for me. Librivox offers free audiobooks in the public domain. Some of the recordings are great, some not so much. The narrator of this one had a pleasant voice, but he didn’t do different voices for the different characters, and he had the same cadence to most of his sentences. I read some of the Kindle version and enjoyed it more. If I ever read it again, I’ll either try a different narrator or just read the print book.

Nevertheless, I am glad to have read the book and made acquaintance with the Vicar.

The Bird in the Tree

Posted on September 10, 2026 by Barbara Harper

The Bird in the Tree by Elizabeth Goudge is the first in a trilogy of novels about the fictional Elliot family in England between the two world wars.

Lucilla is the widowed matriarch of the family. She lives with her daughter, Margaret, and long-time maid, Ellen. Currently three of her young grandchildren are staying with her as well. Their parents, her son and daughter-in-law George and Nadine, have been divorced. George is out of the country and Nadine is establishing her own life. Lucilla hopes they will restore their marriage.

Her favorite grandson, David, lived with her from the time he was a boy after his parents died. He’s grown now, an actor, and is coming for a visit. However, when he arrives, she senses something is wrong. It’s not until the next day that he tells her he is in love with Nadine and they plan to marry. They’ve not told anyone else yet.

If it sounds strange that he’s in love with his aunt–she’s several years younger than her husband (his biological uncle) and a few years older than David.

Lucilla is distressed, as David knew she would be. She asks that Nadine come for a visit so she can talk with both of them. She shares why she doesn’t think they should marry: their union would be a blow to family unity, would make it impossible for Nadine and George to reconcile, and would destroy David’s special relationship with Nadine’s children, who loved and missed their father and would have difficulty if David tried to step into that role. Lucilla doesn’t press the issue after that, though she worries and prays.

Then the question becomes whether David and Nadine will follow their passions or do what’s right.

Parts of the book sound like it could have been written today:

His love for Nadine was the most shatteringly real thing that had ever happened to him. It was the truth, and it must be served…

Truth. He would have to try to make Lucilla understand how he felt about it, how it was to him the lamp that lit all life. It would be difficult, for her generation and his felt so differently about this truth. Her generation had built from without inwards, had put the reality of law and tradition above the reality of personal feeling, but his built from within outwards, the truth of personal feeling must come first; when there was no longer reality in a union, smash the union; never mind what laws were broken or what lives were crippled; live the truth.

The young people think that Lucilla, wrapped in “law and tradition,” can’t possibly understand their “truth.” But as we learn more about Lucilla’s past, we see she had her own long struggle between desire and duty.

The family home, Danrosehay, is almost a character of its own in the story. I liked how Lucilla wanted the home to always be a refuge from the storms of life for her present and future family.

There’s an interesting backstory of a historic storm and a sea captain who crashed into the marshes and lived in the area afterward. The story is told near the beginning as just village lore, but it turns out to have great significance for the family later on.

A few other quotes that stood out to me.:

She tried very hard to teach her grandchildren how to extract the last drop of beauty out of all the small things of life, words and scents and sounds.

In times of storm and tempest, of indecision and desolation, a book already known and loved makes better reading than something new and untried. The meeting with remembered and well-loved passages is like the continual greeting of old friends; nothing is so warming and companionable.

I realize now that there is such a mixture of good and evil in all we think and are that everything, every instinct and thought, needs to be tested by the teachings of Christ.

All bereavement, whether fate inflicts it on you or whether the relinquishment is your own, changes you . . . Don’t people say that nature abhors a vacuum? Something lost in the present means something new flowing from the future; often a new and stronger faith.

This was his first big trouble and she hardly knew how to bear it; when she had been young she had borne her own troubles, now she was old she bore her children’s and grandchildren’s and found them far worse to put up with than her own had been.

There is mention of a blackbird singing in an ilex tree about twelve times. With that, and the bird in the title, I felt it had to have some significance. I searched online for a while but didn’t turn up much opinion on that front, though some sources said the ilex tree (mentioned 28 times in the book), a type of holly, was thought to be representative of Christ’s sacrifice. I felt the last line of the book finally gave some insight; but, of course, I can’t share that without spoiling the story.

This book started out with tons of description, of the main characters, the house, the village, and its history. But, once again, once it got into the story, I loved it. The characters are so well drawn that they seem real and relatable. And, though some of the language and situations are a little old-fashioned, the underlying truths are eternal.

The Scent of Water

Posted on September 8, 2026 by Barbara Harper

The Scent of Water by Elizabeth Goudge takes its title from Job 14:7-9, KJV: “For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground; Yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant.”

The novel shares the story of several people in a small English village in the late 1950s, but especially Mary Lindsay. She’s a woman in her fifties in London who began as a teacher, then went into government services, then became something like an administrator for a ministry. She receives word that an aunt for whom she was named has died and left Mary her house in the country and a small legacy. At first Mary plans to go down to Appleshaw, get the house in order, and sell it.

But then she remembers visiting Aunt Mary when she was about eight. Aunt Mary had showed her a collection of “little things,” miniatures, that young Mary had been enchanted with. Aunt Mary had offered to give them to her, but in the busyness of a London home with other siblings, she was afraid they’d get lost or broken.

Mary wonders now whether the “little things” are still there. She uncharacteristically decides to quit her job in London and take possession of Aunt Mary’s home in the countryside.

As Mary starts to get the house in shape, she meets other villagers. There are children next door who regard her garden as theirs and are quite hostile, until Mary makes friends with them. There’s a blind veteran, Paul Randall, with his discontent, grumbly wife. There’s the vicar with his anxious, easily frightened sister. And a dear older, feeble couple with a wayward son.

Part of Mary’s reasons for coming to the quiet of the country is to process her feelings for her aunt and her fiance, who had been killed at war a week before the wedding. She felt like perhaps she hadn’t really loved him as she should have since she didn’t grieve as deeply as she had seen others do. And she wanted to get to know her mysterious Aunt Mary, whom she had only seen that one time as a child. Fortunately, she finds Aunt Mary’s diary.

“The scent of water” is mentioned many times through the book as different characters experience renewal and new life in various ways.

Some of the quotes that stood out to me:

I had not known before that love is obedience. You want to love, and you can’t, and you hate yourself because you can’t, and all the time love is not some marvelous thing that you feel but some hard thing that you do. And this in a way is easier because with God’s help you can command your will when you can’t command your feelings. With us, feelings seem to be important, but He doesn’t appear to agree with us.

Suffering had had an effect with which she was familiar. The refusal of self-pity and despair had turned it from lead to fire, burning up the subterfuges and dishonesties below the surface of the inherited veneer of manners and thought that most men and women think are their true selves, and the veneer with them.

Mary sat up late that night with the diary. She had been reading it slowly and steadily, passing with Cousin Mary through the first few years at Appleshaw, years of alternate illness and respite, so much at one with her cousin that she seemed to be learning with her how to accept the first with hope and the second with wonder and gratitude. Cousin Mary hoped her journey through periods of dark and light was like that of a Swiss train toiling up the mountainside, in and out of tunnels but always a little farther up the hill at each emergence. But she could only hope that this was so. She did not feel it.

No desert is so dusty as not to have an oasis here and there.

I liked this quote about a writer who gave Mary some of his work to critique.

He had found in her what he had never had, a sympathetic but intelligent critic. She could wield the pruning knife mercilessly yet at the same time she watered the roots.

I think most writers would appreciate that kind of feedback.

However, there were a couple of things that puzzled me. One was that Mary finds herself falling for a married man. She never acts on her feelings or lets anyone know. He’s a writer and finds in her a meeting of the minds unlike what he has with anyone else. But that being understood and appreciated seems to make him more determined to make his relationship with his discontent wife right.

Another was this exchange with a child who had taken a couple of the “little things” from Mary’s house:

“Then you don’t think I’m awfully wicked?” whispered Edith. “You don’t think I’ll go to hell?”
Mary laughed. “No, I don’t. It’s like this, Edith. Why you do a thing is more important than what you do. And so stealing because you love is really better than not stealing because you don’t. Not that I am advocating stealing exactly. This question of good and evil is very complicated. Life has been very difficult for us all since Eve ate the apple.”

Mary was not a believer at this point, so she can be forgiven for not having her theology quite right. But it seemed an odd thing for the author to include.

I was surprised to see a handful of “damns” in the book.

In an earlier book I read by this author, The Dean’s Watch, it seemed to take her a long time to actually get into the story. In this book, she seemed to jump right in, so that was helpful. Still, it’s kind of a slow-moving, character-driven rather than action-packed novel. But I liked the theme of renewal and how it worked out in the lives of its characters.

Mr. Harrison’s Confessions

Posted on September 3, 2026 by Barbara Harper

Mr. Harrison’s Confessions is a novella by Elizabeth Gaskell which was first published as a magazine serial. Mr. Harrison is a young doctor who has just finished his studies and is invited by a friend of his father’s, Mr. Morgan (apparently doctors weren’t addressed as such yet in those days), to join his practice in the small town of Duncombe, England, in the mid-1850s.

Of course, the two doctors’ styles are very different. Morgan frequently corrects and advises Harrison on everything from his clothes to “how things are done” in Duncombe. Harrison is full of the latest medical theories and practices while Morgan is steeped in ways of an older country doctor. Morgan knows how to use the town’s gossip mill to advantage while Harrison is baffled by it.

Thanks to Morgan’s touting the new doctor’s skills, the town generally accepts him. But when differences of opinion arise, his reputation is at stake.

Maybe because of naivete or lack of experience with small town gossip, he finds himself romantically linked with three different women–none of home is Sophy, the vicar’s daughter, whom he is genuinely interested in.

This novella is sometimes referred to as a prequel to Cranford by the same author, though they are set in different towns and don’t have any characters in common. But the feel of small town village life is similar. I was unaware of this story until learning that the British TV series Cranford included this book and My Lady Ludlow in its series taken from the novel Cranford. The vicar in Mr. Harrison’s Confessions is the one in the TV series.

Gaskell was said to have drawn from the experiences of an uncle who was a doctor for her medical knowledge.

This was a nice story with both comedy and pathos.

Atomic Habits

Posted on September 1, 2026 by Barbara Harper

Atomic Habits: An Easy & Proven Way to Build Good Habits & Break Bad Ones by James Clear was all the rage a few years ago. I was interested, but for some reason I never got the book. Then when I saw the e-book on sale last year, I figured it was finally time to look into it.

The “atomic” part of his philosophy involves breaking new habits down into small components. Usually, when we want to change something–lose weight, start working out, learn a new skill–we make big goals and grand plans. But then we either never get around to them, or we peter out after a short time. Clear’s advice is to start small and sustainable. “Changes that seem small and unimportant at first will compound into remarkable results if you’re willing to stick with them for years” (p. 6).

The “habit” part of the book comes partly from the thought that “the more tasks you can handle without thinking, the more your brain is free to focus on other areas” (p. 19).

Through his own experience and study, he shares “a synthesis of the best ideas smart people figured out a long time ago as well as the most compelling discoveries scientists have made recently” (p. 9). He started out with a website, then a newsletter, then articles, and eventually this book.

Instead of setting goals, he advocates for establishing systems. “Goals are about the results you want to achieve. Systems are about the processes that lead to those results” (p. 23) Establishing small habits and building on them is the basis of those systems.

He shares four steps to creating a good habit, the reverse of which helps break a bad habit. I can’t share all of that as it makes up the meat of the book. But to just give you a taste, one thing he recommends is “habit stacking”: add a habit to something you are currently doing. Like eating dinner, then putting your dishes straight into the dishwasher, then wiping off the counter, then putting out what you need for the morning.

Another is the “two-minute rule”: break any habit you want to establish into a two-minute version. Then it’s not overwhelming, plus your brain will likely want to keep going once you start. For instance, instead of “I’m going to walk for an hour, ” you might start with, “I am going to change into my walking shoes after dinner and step outside.” “What you want is a “gateway habit” that naturally leads you down a more productive path” (p. 162).

A few more quotes that stood out to me:

Habits do not restrict freedom. They create it (p. 46).

Many people think they lack motivation when what they really lack is clarity (p. 71).

The first mistake is never the one that ruins you. It is the spiral of repeated mistakes that follows. Missing once is an accident. Missing twice is the start of a new habit (p. 201).

Too often, we fall into an all-or-nothing cycle with our habits. The problem is not slipping up; the problem is thinking that if you can’t do something perfectly, then you shouldn’t do it at all (p. 201).

One thing I love about this book is his short summaries of key points at the end of each chapter. When I mentioned this, my husband said, “Then someone could just read the chapter summaries rather than the whole book.” That’s possible, but one wouldn’t get nearly as much out of the book that way. They work better as reinforcing key points and looking back as a review.

This is a secular book, coming at some things with an evolutionary mindset which I wouldn’t agree with. I’d also disagree with some of what he says about self-control.

But overall, there are many good tips I one can glean from the book. I’m glad I finally read it.

The Lost Story of Via Belle

Posted on August 26, 2026 by Barbara Harper

The Lost Story of Via Belle is a dual-timeline novel by Melanie Dobson inspired by the life of Grace Livingston Hill. The book is not a fictionalized retelling of Grace’s life, but it draws on some of her circumstances and experiences.

In 1940, Via Belle is the pen name of Olivia Ashe. She’s written dozens of sweet romance novels with clear Christian themes. She and her husband had built a lovely lake-side home with a turret where she did all her writing. But first their daughter died, and then her husband passed away. Olivia’s next novel is due and her publisher won’t extend her deadlines any more. But she can’t find the words.

She’s invited to be on a panel of authors at a university. She’s the only one who writes novels: the others are more scholarly or literary. She feels distinctly out of place. But she’s able to share a few things. Then a long line of female college students stay and ask her to autograph their copies of her novels.

A Professor Simon Farrow stays as well, complimenting her on her work and how she handled herself on the panel. One invitation to dinner leads to another. Though Simon is much younger, they fall into a whirlwind romance. Olivia’s words come back and she finishes her novel in record time.

Olivia and Simon marry, in spite of her Aunt Hattie’s reservations. There are things about Simon that don’t make sense, but there’s always some reason to explain away his actions.

Yet, before too long, Olivia realizes she made a mistake.

in 2006, Harper Rayne is an aspiring screenwriter. Her best friend is a movie star with a producer-father, but he doesn’t take Harper’s work seriously. After blowing an opportunity to pitch her film idea, Harper accepts the invitation of her late mother’s friend to house-sit in a small town in PA where Via Belle lived sixty years earlier. Her mother had loved Via Belle’s books, and after Harper picks up her favorite, she begins to wonder if one of Belle’s books could be turned into a movie. As she looks into Belle’s life and tries to tour her home, Harper begins to think that the life of the author herself would make a good movie. But no one seems to know what happened to Belle: she went missing, and anyone who might know anything about her has no comment.

As Harper keeps digging, she finds not only more about Belle, but also surprising connections to her own life.

Melanie shares in her end notes that she had loved Grace Livingston Hill, and this book was inspired by parts of her life as well as those of Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie. Grace was married to a pastor and lived in PA, where she had two daughters; Belle only had one daughter who died young. After her husband’s death, Hill married a man much younger than herself, but their marriage was eventually annulled. Belle’s situation with her second husband is where much of the fiction comes into the story. Melanie shares some of her research here, including a tour of Hill’s home.

I enjoyed the beginning of the story. The middle seemed a little soap-opera-ish to me. But I loved how everything came together at the end.

The Dean’s Watch

Posted on August 20, 2026 by Barbara Harper

The Dean’s Watch is a novel by Elizabeth Goudge, published in 1950 but set in an English cathedral town in the 1870s. The town is unnamed but based on Ely, where Goudge lived for a time, bordering the marshy Fens region.

The story opens with watch- and clock-maker Isaac Peabody, a shy, quiet man working in his shop repairing Dean Ayscough’s watch. We’re told about his work, his shop, his lack of faith in God, and his fear of the cathedral (though we’re not told why he fears it until much later). He’s currently in one of his “good times.”

He lives with his sister, Emma, a rigid, brittle woman. Emma considers herself a gentleman’s daughter and is ashamed that her brother is a tradesman with his own shop. Her shame is deepened by the fact that Isaac visits the local pub during his “bad times.” Her mission in life is to “turn him into a sober, businesslike, gentlemanly good man,” and she knows she is failing.

Their maid, Polly, is a bright, cheerful, soul, and Isaac and Polly get along well when Emma is not around. Emma knows this and is jealous.

On Saturdays, Isaac keeps his shop closed and visits some of his customers whose clocks need winding and cleaning. One of those customers is the Dean (a head Anglican priest). Isaac times his visit for when the Dean will be out at the church. But this Saturday, the Dean is home with a cold. And, much to Isaac’s terror, the Dean wants to see him.

As it turns out, however, the Dean just wanted to thank Isaac for the paper included with his repaired watch. Isaac put little scraps of sayings or poetry with his watches, and the Dean particularly liked this one.

This led to a discussion of horology (the study of clocks and watches) as the two reserved men opened up to each other, with a promise of more visits to come.

The Dean is described as imposing, tall, and ugly, with a raspy voice. He commands authority and has fought against corruption in the city, particularly that involving children. But very few know his gruff exterior hides a tender heart.

Job Mooring is an orphan, stolen from his family as a child and then sold to various apprenticeships. He now works for a fishmonger who beats him. Way back as a young child made to climb chimneys, Job was rescued by the Dean, though he didn’t know that’s who he was. Job is secretly courting Polly.

One night when the Dean stops by Isaac’s house unexpectedly, he sets off a series of events with long-term ramifications.

In the meantime, his weekly visits with Isaac are redemptive for both men.

This book inspired yesterdays post on patience with old books. The book is not that old, but it’s written in the style of the 1800s. First we see a long description of Isaac and his shop, then the city, the fen people, several hundred years of the cathedral’s history, Emma, and the Dean. The story itself doesn’t seem to take off until about a third of the way in.

But once it did, I loved it. I loved the characters and the redemptive threads throughout. I liked the double meaning of the title: both the Dean’s physical timepiece, plus his watching over the people in the city, particularly the main characters. As he walked around the city at night, “He would stand in dark doorways and pray there for the men and women within the shuttered houses. If he lacked the common touch, if he was not the priest he had longed to be, this at least he could do.”

According to Wikipedia, though Elizabeth wrote several books, nonfiction and fiction, for both adults and children, The Dean’s Watch was one of her top three favorites.

Patience with Old Books

Posted on August 19, 2026 by Barbara Harper

Modern writers are told they need to hook the reader within the first couple of pages–preferably the first few paragraphs.

Fiction writers are also instructed not to write long descriptions and backstory. Instead, they’re told to tuck necessary details in here and there.

They’re also told to “Show, don’t tell.” You don’t say, “Sue was angry,” or even worse, “Sue was very angry.” You show her actions and let the reader infer what she felt: “Sue’s face reddened as she stomped out of the room and slammed the door.”

Other widespread writing advice: Use strong verbs and nouns, fewer adjectives and adverbs. Write shorter paragraphs. Cut everything that’s not absolutely necessary.

Old books are written differently.

They might start with the character’s ancestry three generations back and give us a detailed description of himself, his job, his home, and his family before we get even a hint of what the story is about. They generally “tell” more than they “show.” Their paragraphs, and sometimes even their sentences, are long and circuitous.

It’s not that the modern style of writing is right and the old way is wrong. Some books have continued to sell well for centuries even with their wordier construction. Different styles fit different times.

Older writers might be appalled at our modern lack of patience. But we not only have shorter attention spans–we have a plethora of material to read. If something doesn’t capture our interest right away, we move on to the next option.

I wonder if people savored reading more when they had fewer choices. I think they must have looked on reading–fiction, at least–as a time to anticipate and relax.

Italo Calvino has written, “A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.” It still speaks to us today.

I think of it a little like traveling to a longed-for destination. Before you can get there, you have to make plans, book flights, pack, and endure the journey–all things I don’t like about travel. But most people find the destination with the effort.

It might help to ask for recommendations from a friend or Google classic books in a genre you already like. Finding out a little about the background and author aids understanding as well, but I caution you not to read the introductory material in many classics written by someone other than the author. Those seem to assume the reader is already familiar with the story and give away too much. (I’m still steamed at the writer who tossed out the ending of Anna Karenina like it was common knowledge and ruined it for me).

There are blogs and podcasts like The Literary Life Podcast which shed light on specific titles. I listened to their discussion of Dracula alongside my reading. I didn’t think I’d like the book, but I gained so much more by what I learned from their knowledge and discussion.

So I encourage you to be patient with older books and give them time. Accept that they may be more wordy and take a while to get where they’re going. But the payoff in a recognition of human character or a bit of wise insight is usually worth it.

Insights on Revelation

Posted on August 12, 2026 by Barbara Harper

The book of Revelation can be daunting to read, with all its symbolism and strange experiences. I used Charles Swindoll’s Insights on Revelation as a companion this time through the book and found it quite helpful.

Swindoll says this book is a “mile-high” view of Revelation. He goes into more detail than a mere overview, but mainly hits the high points.

The Greek word for “Revelation” is apokalypsis, form which we get our word apocalypse. Today, apocalypse conveys the meaning of a massive, end-of-the-world-type battle. Though Revelation tells of the final, victorious battle between good and evil, the word actually means an unveiling. This is an unveiling of the future, but even more so, and unveiling of the true King.

Revelation was written by the apostle John, brother of James. He was an old man now, living in exile on the island of Patmos, when he was caught up to heaven and told to write what he saw.

First he is told to write seven letters to then-existing local churches. Swindoll calls these a type of performance review. Each church is told what they did right, what they’re doing wrong, and how God wants them to respond. The message to each church has much to say to us today as well.

Then John sees several visions of things to come, including the reign of the Antichrist during seven years of what we call the Tribulation, leading to the final judgments of mankind, the resurrection of all from the dead, and the crowning of Jesus Christ as the King of the universe, with all those who believed on Him through the ages coming to live with Him in His kingdom.

Revelation pronounces a blessing on those who read and obey it: “The one who reads this is blessed, and those who hear the words of this prophecy and keep what is written in it are blessed, because the time is near!” (Revelation 1:3, HCSB). The blessing is repeated near the end of the book: “And behold, I am coming soon. Blessed is the one who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book” (Revelation 22:7, ESV).

Swindoll emphasizes that we may not understand everything in the book–even John didn’t understand everything he wrote. But there is still much we can glean and be blessed by. He says careful observation of what the text says, paying attention to the context within Revelation, and bringing in what we know from other parts of the Bible help us understand it better. He says, “The book of Revelation wasn’t written to confuse, frighten, or entertain. Rather, it was given to believers to read, understand, and apply.”

There are groups of people with very strong opinions on some questions in Revelation: whether there will be a “Rapture” of the church, a catching away of Christians; when that will occur (before, in the middle of, or after the tribulation–seven years of trouble); whether there will be a literal millennium–a thousand year reign of Christ on Earth; or whether everything in the book is symbolic. I felt, even before this book, that these things are not worth arguing over or breaking fellowship over.

In fact, the study of Revelation can often devolve into trying to prove one’s version of these things. But a focus on these things can obscure or even miss the point. “The purpose of Revelation is to change us, not simply to inform us.” The book of Revelation gives us hope for the future, inspires us to live holy lives in light of what’s coming, and “moves us to worship God, who will ultimately triumph over evil.”

After each section, Swindoll share practical applications we can draw from the text for our lives here and now.

Some of the judgments God pours out on the unbelieving and rebellious in the end times are some of the most awful things we’ll read in the Bible. But the good news is, God has made a way to escape those judgments by believing on Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior now. The last chapter of the book contains an invitation: “The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come.’ And let the one who hears say, ‘Come.’ And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price” (Revelation 22:17).

My Lady Ludlow

Posted on August 11, 2026 by Barbara Harper

My Lady Ludlow by Elizabeth Gaskell is a short novel–or a long novella–about an older aristocratic woman in the changing times of the late 1700s.

Her story is told by Margaret Dawson, a distant relative, now an old woman looking back on her time with Lady Ludlow. When Margaret was a teenager, her father died, leaving her mother with nine children. To help out, Lady Ludlow offered for Margaret to come stay with her, where she “did her Christian duty” by several young “gentlewomen” who were “out of means.” So Margaret traveled several hours to Lady Ludlow’s manor.

In those days, the Lord or Lady of the manor had pretty much the authority of the whole area. Lady Ludlow had a strong sense of The Way Things Should Be, based on the way things had always been. She could seem imperious and intractable, but she had a kind and generous heart.

She had frequent arguments with the young rector as well as her own steward about educating the “lower classes.” Reverend Gray wanted to open a Sunday School and then a village school, to teach doctrine and prepare young minds for the world to come. Mr. Horner, the steward, cared more about the here and now and “wanted to make every man useful and active in this world.” He had taken it upon himself to educate a bright young boy who happened to be the son of a man known for poaching. Mr. Horner thought the boy could be saved from the kind of life he was otherwise sure to grow into and possibly even come to work for the estate.

“My lady would hear of neither one or the other.” She thought the teaching of doctrine was best done by the family and church. She called reading and writing “edge-tools,” saying, “If our lower orders have these edge-tools given to them, we shall have the terrible scenes of the French Revolution acted over again in England. When I was a girl, one never heard of the rights of men, one only heard of the duties.” She thought that if the boy Mr. Horner was teaching, and others like him, learned to read and write, “his duties become complicated, and his temptations much greater, while, at the same time, he has no hereditary principles and honourable training to serve as safeguards.”

She then related a long story about friends in France who were killed during the Revolution, part of their fate hinging on a boy reading and sharing a message he should not have.

At first I wondered why Mrs. Gaskell created such a character. From what I’ve read about the author, Lady Ludlow’s views were not her views.

But, without spoiling the plot too much, Lady Ludlow gradually changes her thinking on many things. Then I realized the author was appealing to those who held the same views as Lady Ludlow, gently trying to open their eyes to other, better views.

My Lady Ludlow is one of the stories incorporated in the Cranford BBC TV series, along with the novel Cranford and another novella, Mr. Harrison’s Confessions, even though these stories don’t originally occur in the same place. The rector in the TV series is from one of the other books, so it’s sad that Rev. Gray wasn’t in the series. Mr. Horner, for some reason, is renamed Mr. Carter there. In the book, Lady Ludlow has one son remaining from her original nine, but he never appears at the manor. The TV series has him coming back as a ne’er-do-well, only interested in money, wanting to sell the estate to the railroad company. I know films can’t portray the books exactly, but when they add in their own plots, I want to say, “Go write your own books with your own characters, and don’t subvert those of others.”

Though Lady Ludlow is not as easy to like as Matty Jenkyns in Cranford, I did like the way she changed through the story.