by Various
"Bessie, may you never know how his words pierced my heart!
"My earnest plea to see Amy just one minute, prevailed with her widowedmother. Kindly taking my hand--the murderer's--she led me to the sickchamber. As I looked on the sweet sufferer, all hope deserted me. Theshadows of death were already on her forehead and her large blue eyes.
"Kneeling by her bed, in whispered words my heart pleaded, oh, soearnestly, for forgiveness. But, when I looked entreatingly toward her,in her delirious gaze there was no recognition. No, Bessie, I was neverto be comforted by the assurance of her pardon.
"When I next saw Amy, she was asleep. The bright flush had faded fromher cheek, whose marble paleness was shaded by her long eyelashes.Delirium had ceased, and the aching heart was still. That small, whitehand, which had been held out tremblingly, to receive the blows of theharsh ferule, now lay lovingly folded within the other. Never againwould tears flow from those gentle eyes, nor that bosom heave withsorrow. That sleep was the sleep of death!
"My grief was wilder, if not deeper, than that mother's of whose losttreasure I had robbed her. She forgave me; but I could not forgivemyself. What a long, long winter followed. My sufferings threw me into afever, and in my delirium I called continually upon Amy.
"But God listened to the prayers of my dear father, and raised me fromthis sickness. And when the light footsteps of spring were seen uponthe green earth, and early flowers were springing up around the grave ofAmy, for the first time, I was allowed to visit it.
"My head swam, as I read, lettered so carefully on the white tablet:--
"'AMY SINCLAIR, _Fell asleep September third.'_
"Beside that fresh turf I knelt down, and offered, as I trust, theprayer of faith. I was there relieved, and strengthened too, Bessie,"said Aunt Ruth, as she laid her hand tenderly upon that young head boweddown upon her lap.
Poor Bessie's tears had long been flowing, and now her grief seemeduncontrollable. Nor did her aunt attempt consolation; for she hopedthere was a healing in that sorrow.
"Pray for me!" whispered Bessie, as, at length, looking up through hertears, she flung her arms about her aunt; and from a full heart AuntRuth prayed for the weeping child.
That scene was never forgotten by Bessie; for in that twilight hour, alight dawned upon her, brighter than the morning. And, although it hadcost Aunt Ruth not a little to call up this dark shadow from the past,yet she felt repaid a thousandfold for her sacrifice. For that sweetyoung face, lovely as a May morning, but whose beauty had been oftenmarred by the workings of deceit and falsehood, grew radiant in theclear light of that truthful purpose which was then born in her soul.
TWO WAYS OF READING THE BIBLE.
"Would you like another chapter, Lilian dear?" asked Kate Everard of theinvalid cousin whom she had lately come from Hampshire to nurse.
"Not now, thanks; my head is tired," was the reply.
Kate closed her Bible with a feeling of slight disappointment. She knewthat Lilian was slowly sinking under incurable disease, and what couldbe more suitable to the dying than constantly to be hearing the Bibleread? Lilian might surely listen, if she were too weak to read forherself.
Kate was never easy in mind unless she perused at least two or threechapters daily, besides a portion of the Psalms; and she had severaltimes gone through the whole Bible from beginning to end. And here wasLilian, whose days on earth might be few, tired with one short chapter!
"There must be something wrong here," thought Kate, who had never duringher life kept her bed for one day through sickness. "It is a sad thingwhen the dying do not prize the word of God."
"Lilian," said she, trying to soften her naturally quick, sharp tonesto gentleness, "I should think that now, when you are so ill, you wouldfind special comfort in the Scriptures."
Lilian's languid eyes had closed, but she opened them, and fixing hersoft, earnest gaze upon her cousin, replied, "I do--they are my support;I have been feeding on one verse all the morning."
"And what is that verse?" asked Kate.
"'Whom I shall see for myself,'" began Lilian slowly; but Kate cut hershort--
"I know that verse perfectly--it is in Job; it comes just after 'I knowthat my Redeemer liveth;' the verse is, 'Whom I shall see for myself,and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.'"
"What do you understand by the expression 'not another'?" asked Lilian.
"Really, I have never particularly considered those words," answeredKate. "Have you found out any remarkable meaning in them?"
"They were a difficulty to me," replied the invalid, "till I happened toread that in the German Bible they are rendered a little differently;and then I searched in my own Bible, and found that the word in themargin of it, is like that in the German translation."
"I never look at the marginal references," said Kate, "though mine is alarge Bible and has them."
"I find them such a help in comparing Scripture with Scripture,"observed Lilian.
Kate was silent for several seconds. She had been careful to read dailya large portion from the Bible; but to "mark, learn, and inwardly digestit," she had never even thought of trying to do. In a more humble toneshe now asked her cousin, "What is the word which is put in the marginof the Bible instead of 'another' in that difficult text?"
"_A stranger_" replied Lilian; and then, clasping her hands, sherepeated the whole passage on which her soul had been feeding withsilent delight:
"'Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and _not astranger_.'
"Whom I shall see for myself."]
"O Kate," continued the dying girl, while unbidden tears rose to hereyes, "if you only knew what sweetness I have found in that verse allthis morning while I have been in great bodily pain! I am in the Valleyof the Shadow--I shall soon cross the dark river; I know it: but Hewill be with me, and 'not a stranger.' He is the Good Shepherd, and Iknow His voice; a stranger would I not follow.
"Oh," continued Lilian, "in the glad resurrection morn, it is the LordJesus whom I shall behold--my own Saviour, my own tried friend, and 'nota stranger;' I shall at last see Him whom, not having seen, I haveloved."
Lilian closed her eyes again, and the large drops, overflowing, felldown her pallid cheeks; she had spoken too long for her strength, buther words had not been spoken in vain.
"Lilian has drawn more comfort and profit from one verse--nay, fromthree words in the Bible, than I have drawn from the whole book,"reflected Kate. "I have but read the Scriptures,--she has searched them.I have been like one floating carelessly over the surface of watersunder which lie pearls; Lilian has dived deep and made the treasure herown."
COURTESY TO STRANGERS
"Who was that quiet appearing girl that came into church quite late,last Sabbath?" I asked a friend of mine who was an active member inthe church which I had recently joined.
"Did she wear a striped shawl and a dark dress?" inquired my friend. "Ifso, it was Annie Linton, a girl who is a seamstress in Mr. Brown'sshop."
"I did not notice her clothes in particular," I answered, "but her faceattracted me; I should know it among a thousand faces. How could youpass by a stranger so indifferently, Mrs. Greyson? I expected that youwould ask her to remain at Sabbath school, and go into your Bible class,but you did not once look at her."
"I did not once think of it, and if I had, probably she would not haveaccepted the invitation, as she is a stranger in town, and undoubtedlywill not remain here long," my friend replied quickly, by way ofdefense.
I said nothing more, for Mrs. G. was really an excellent Christianwoman, with this one fault--carelessness--which sometimes caused her tomake grave mistakes.
But I could not help thinking about the stranger girl. Her large, darkeyes and finely formed face revealed more than ordinary intelligence,and in some way I gained the impression that, if not a Christianalready, she desired to be. It seemed to me that she left the churchvery reluctantly, and was half waiting an invitation to the Bible class.
The next Sabbath she came
again and occupied the same seat,--just infront of my own. She bowed her head very reverently during prayer, andonce during the sermon I saw her lip quiver with emotion, and a tearcame into her eye.
The services closed, and the stranger lingered as before. My friend,good Mrs. G., again forgot to speak to the girl. She passed out of thechurch slowly, and did not come again.
I thought she must have left town, as I had not seen her for severaldays; but one Sabbath, as I attended another church, I saw her again.She seemed a little more at ease, I thought, and there was a quiet smileon her face. After the services were concluded, I saw many a pleasantsmile given to the stranger girl, and I understood the secret of thechanged look upon her face. I made some inquiries, and learned that shehad joined this church, and was earnest and active in all its work.
I also learned that she had made a profession of religion just beforecoming to our village, and had an unusually happy experience. How muchthe indifference of our own people had to do with her finding a home inanother church, I know not.
Several years have passed since this occurred, but I have neverforgotten it. Many a stranger's hand I have clasped, as I thought ofAnna Linton's sweet face.
I was young in Christian experience then, and that lesson was aprofitable one to me.
Speak to the stranger, Christian friend, with the assurance that Godwill bless your efforts to throw sunshine and cheer and welcome into thehearts of others--strangers though they be.
* * * * *
LIVE FOR SOMETHING
Live for something; be not idle-- Look about thee for employ; Sit not down to useless dreaming-- Labor is the sweetest joy. Folded hands are ever weary, Selfish hearts are never gay, Life for thee has many duties-- Live for something, while you may.
Scatter blessings in thy pathway! Gentle words and cheering smiles Better are than gold and silver, With their grief-dispelling wiles. As the pleasant sunshine falleth Ever on the grateful earth, So let sympathy and kindness Gladden well the darkened hearth.
JENNIE BROWNING
The light of a beautiful Sabbath was fast fading, and the last goldengleams fell softly upon the form of a light-haired little girl who satby a cottage window, her head leaning upon her hand as if in deepthought.
The sun had departed like a grand old monarch, leaving behind him aglory of purple and gold more beautiful than his own full splendor. Yetthe little girl saw nothing of all this beauty. She was thinking of thestory in the Sabbath school book she had been reading,--the story of achild's life; and she wondered if all that happened in the story couldbe really true.
Jennie was pondering in her troubled brain a question which the readingof the book had brought. What could it be? Evidently it was not to beanswered easily, for her face only grew more clouded, until at last sheresolved to ask the help of some wiser mind.
Fortunately, Jennie knew that she had but to make her perplexitiesknown to her mother and they would all be explained in the clearest way;so, seating herself in her rocking-chair by her mother's side, shesaid:--
"Mamma, I want you to tell me something."
"Well, dear, what is it?"
"I've just finished my Sabbath school book, you know, and it's justperfectly lovely; all about the sweetest little girl; only she wasalways doing so many kind things for everybody; and I've been trying tothink what's the reason little girls in books always have so manychances for doing good, and little girls like me, who are out of books,don't have any at all."
"Not any at all?" questioned the mother. "Is that really so?"
"Well, no, not quite, I suppose," said Jennie, "but then they are justnothing but the tiniest little bits of things. There's never anythingbig and splendid for real little girls like me to do.
"Now, Susy Chrystie, in the story, took her little sister May out for awalk, and just while they were crossing a bridge, May pulled her handaway from Susy's, and tried to walk on the edge, just as close as shecould; but in about one second her foot slipped, and she would havefallen off into the water if her sister hadn't jumped right to her, andcaught hold of her dress, and pulled her back all safe.
"Now just think, mamma," said Jennie, her blue eyes opening widely asshe spoke, "Susy Chrystie saved her little sister's life; wasn't that asplendid, big something to do?"
"Yes, my dear, that was a brave thing for a little girl to do, for evenan older person might have been too frightened by seeing the danger Maywas in, to act quickly; but if my little Jennie will always try to keepquite still, and never scream when any sudden fright comes to her, shetoo may be able to think quickly of the best way in which to helpherself or others."
"_Susy Chrystie saved her little sister's life_."]
"But, mamma, you know that nothing ever does happen to me; and besides,I haven't any little sister or brother."
"Never mind, my child, if you will do carefully everything you dounderstand, and obey cheerfully even when you cannot see why you should,you will please your heavenly Father and give me comfort and pleasure,and perhaps some day you may have a chance to do something brave."
Jennie's face grew brighter, as it always did when she had confided hergriefs to mamma, and for many days she watched and waited anxiously,thinking that at any time something might happen.
And so it did; for one day a letter came from Jennie's aunt, Mrs.Graham, saying she would come and spend a few days with her sister, andbring with her little Willie, a boy about two years old.
Of course they were very welcome, and Jennie greatly enjoyed playingwith her cousin. He was a charming fellow, but very fond of having hisown way; and one of his great enjoyments was to plunge two chubby handsinto Jennie's thick, light hair, and pull it with all his might.
"_He pulled Jennie's hair with all his might_."]
Of course this was a short-lived pleasure when any older person saw him,but when they were alone, Jennie would endure the pain patiently untilshe could coax the little fellow to let go.
She never gave him a cross word, and when the nurse would sayimpatiently, "Indade, thin, Miss Jennie, it's a wonder ye don't justshlap his hands!" she would answer gravely, "Oh, no, he's so muchlittler than I am."
Yet Jennie was not perfect, and though she generally tried to do whatwas right, sometimes, like the rest of the world, she wanted to do whatshe knew was wrong.
One bright afternoon, when she was playing in the yard, her mothercalled her:--
"Your aunt and I must ride to the station directly, to meet uncle andyour father, and I would like to have you go quietly into the nurseryand sit there until Maggie returns from an errand; it will not be long."
"But Willie is sound asleep, mamma, he doesn't want me," said Jennie,who was anxious to stay out of doors.
"Yes, dear, I know it, but we shall feel safer to have some one in theroom, even if he is asleep; something may happen if he is alone."
Jennie, however, was so unwilling to sit quietly in the house that eventhese familiar words did not attract her, but with slow steps and asullen face, she obeyed her mother's wishes.
She knew quite well how slight a thing she had been asked to do, andalthough at another time she would not have objected, just now, when shewanted to do something else, it seemed very hard to give up her ownwill.
Her conscience was so disagreeable, too, for it would keep saying allthe time, "I am ashamed of you, Jennie Browning! Can't you do this foryour kind mamma, even if you do want to do something else?" How tiresomeit all was, and how she wished she could "just do as she liked!"
Thoughts like these were filling Jennie's mind as she stood looking outof the nursery window; but all at once she was aroused by the strongsmell of burning woolen.
Turning quickly, the child grew almost rigid with fear as she saw, justin front of her, a small flame burst out from the rug before the fire,and not far from the crib where Willie lay sleeping. In an instant,however, the thought "What shall I do?" was followed by the remembranceof what her mother had often said, "If in any
way your dress should evertake fire, you must try to smother it at once; never run away, but throwyourself down, or wrap yourself in anything to be found."
"_A small flame burst out from the rug_."]
Remembering this, she hastily caught up the other end of the rug, whichwas large and heavy, and threw it over the flame. This quiteextinguished it, for it had only just started into life when Jennie sawit; but in her zeal she tore off the bedspread and blankets, crowningall with two large pillows upon which she seated herself, for by thistime the child was so confused that she hardly knew whether it was therug or her own dress which had taken fire.
Now she wanted to see somebody, and, not daring to move, she began toscream. This wakened Willie, who added his voice to the uproar, and soonbrought the bewildered nurse to the rescue.
"_She piled on the blankets and sat on them_."]
In less than an hour the carriage returned, and Jennie was kissed andpraised more than she had ever been in all her happy life, by herparents and her aunt and uncle; for they saw quickly what had happened,and trembled to think what might have been.
That night as Mrs. Graham bent to give Jennie her good-night kiss, shewhispered, "May God bless you, my thoughtful little niece, for you havesaved your cousin's life to-day!"
"Why, did I really?" thought Jennie; "how glad, how glad I am; for if Ihadn't been there, the fire would have caught the crib, and oh, thatwould have been awful!"
