A sentimental little book about the life of one Mary Emily Elliott Moule 1882-1905, by her father, the Bishop of Durham. Here\'s a short extract from the first chapter, The Early Years, which shows the charming tone of his tribute to his daughter: \'... The other picture shows her on her nurse\'s lap, and it happens to catch a look we also sometimes knew, as the exception to the rule - a gaze wistful and far away. All the while she was by no means a faultless being. Self-will showed itself early and strongly, and many a passionate battle was fought in the course of the long lesson of obedience and duty; a lesson wonderfully learnt at last, but after an up-hill contest most of the way. Only those who knew her through life could fully appreciate the achievement of the grace of God, shewn in the quiet submission, the total absence of worldliness, and the noble self-discipline in every habit, which marked the last stages of her short journey. That grace tempered the strong will with a deep patience, and it turned the passion for the beautiful, which once made \"the world\" no small temptation, towards all that was best, all that was true and holy. Home was intensely dear to her, from infancy to her final change; the centre of her visible universe. To leave it, for ever so short an absence, was always a sore trouble to her. \" I love Father best and Mother most,\" is one little remembered saying of the early days. At the very end the clinging heart of the child was more beautifully alive than ever in her who had come to be so very much our Friend. Our early letters from her are not many, for happily she was seldom absent from us till she was fifteen. One of these few letters gives a bright picture of a \" blissful\" excursion near Cambridge, to find the bee-orchids and other flowers, \"with Uncle C., who read us the Holy Grail afterwards by request, and perfectly - of course.\"In fair condition. Boards grubby and rubbed at the edges. Spine chipped to top. Some light foxing.