came tidings--sad indeed, yet by no means unexpected--from the sandy
plains of Florida. Stella was dead, but she had died "looking unto
Jesus," and in the feeling of her perfect safety and happiness with
her Saviour. Lucy could acquiesce in the earthly separation from her.
She had seemed to be one over whom "things seen and temporal" held so
much power, that perhaps only the pressure of physical disease, and
the realization of the possible approach of death, could have brought
her to the invisible but ever-present Saviour. Her temporal loss had
thus been her great gain; yet still "more blessed are they" who
without such pressure "have believed."
Our young friends have now arrived at an age when their history is
scarcely so well adapted for the youthful readers of these pages. But
as we all like to hear tidings of our friends after years have
elapsed, it may be pleasant to catch at least a glimpse of their later
life. Lucy never returned to her uncle's house: she became too
valuable a member of her cousin's household to be spared from it, and
she is now its mistress in a legal and permanent sense, aiding her
husband most efficiently in his labours of love. Fred has long since
finished his studies and been settled as the minister of a village
church near his sister's home. Thither he has lately brought Mary
Eastwood as the minister's wife, and has found that she admirably
fills that important post. The two old friends, united now by closer
ties than ever, still delight to maintain their Christian
companionship, and to revive, in the frequent visits interchanged, the
happy memories of former days.
Nelly still keeps house for her brother, who would not know how to
dispense with her multifarious services in weeding his beds, gathering
his fruit for market, and tying up his flowers. But as some of his
friends are equally sensible of her good qualities, he has made up his
mind that, sooner or later, he will have to let her go.
Ada Brooke has been married for several years, and is much, the same,
in her present luxurious home, as when we first made her acquaintance,
with no more aspiration beyond the transient pleasures of the world.
Sophy, who has remained faithful to the memory of her betrothed, is a
very angel of mercy, ministering continually to the poor and sick and
disconsolate, and finding therein a higher happiness than she ever
knew, even in the days when she was most admired and envied. Mr. and
Mrs. Brooke, since the death of their darling Stella, have thought
more of that unseen world into which she has entered, and less of the
present one, which formerly so completely engrossed them. And Edwin,
finding all earthly sources of pleasure to be but "broken cisterns,"
has at last turned to drink of "the living water, of which if a man
drink he shall never thirst again."
Bessie Ford is still the wise, motherly eldest daughter at Mill Bank
Farm. If, from the uneventful character of her quiet country life, she
has not filled so prominent a place in these pages as her classmates,
it is not that the watchword "Looking unto Jesus" has had less
influence on her life than on theirs; and though its fruits may have
been more obscure, they have been as real, in the thorough Christian
kindness and faithfulness, patience and industry, which make her a
much-prized blessing to her family and her friends.
And now, my young reader, that you have seen the effect of taking
"Looking unto Jesus" for the watchword of life to some extent
illustrated, will you not, henceforward, take it as your own?
If only you come by faith to that Saviour who is waiting to receive
you and to renew your sinful heart, and go on living by that faith in
Him, you will find, ever flowing from Him, a life-giving power, which
will furnish you with the strength that you need more than you now
know, for the battle of life before you. And though you may never be
called upon to do things which the world calls great and noble, you
will do common things in a noble spirit, which is the same thing to
Him who looks upon the heart, and
"So make life, death, and the vast for ever,
One grand, sweet song."
* * * * *