her hands together. She wept, but her tears were not tears of bitterness
or grief; she was struck with a sense of the unexpected succour she had
so providentially received, and she felt pained that she had for a
moment doubted the faithfulness of the Lord.
“My friend,” said Samuel, kindly raising her up, “you see that He, who
feeds even the young ravens, has not forgotten your child.”
“I have sinned,” replied the mother; “I feel that I have sinned; may God
pardon my evil complaints. But it is a long day for a mother. Yes it is
a very long day, when every moment is marked by a cry of pain from her
child! I looked to heaven, but saw not the Lord; I was like Hagar in
the desert, (Gen. xxi. 15.) and forgot him.”
_S._ The Lord directed you to find succour, and has many other blessings
in store for you, of which you are not now aware.
Fanny was struck with the words of the young mother. She came to her
father, and whispered to him, “I also forgot the Lord; will he forgive
me?”
Samuel kissed his daughter. “My child,” said he, “remember, that
although our Lord sees our faults and evil deeds, he is ready to pardon
those who seek forgiveness through Christ. He has said. ‘Ask, and ye
shall receive;’ and him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.
Turn to him with your whole heart, he is full of mercy, and his
compassions fail not.”
While thus conversing, they arrived at Nanny’s cottage. The little child
had fallen asleep in the nurse’s arms, and she put it safely into the
cradle of her own child, who was gone to a friend to be weaned.
She then prepared some food for the poor mother, who was quite exhausted
with anxiety and fatigue. While thus employed, she repeated, “The Lord
is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. The Lord
upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all those that be bowed down.
The eyes of all wait upon thee, and thou givest them their meat in due
season. The Lord is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his
works. The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that
call upon him in truth. He will fulfil the desires of them that fear
him; he also will hear their cry, and will save them. The Lord
preserveth all them that love him, but all the wicked will he destroy.”
_S._ Yes, neighbour, let us praise the providence of God who has been
pleased to send you another infant, for a short period deprived of its
mother, instead of your own.
_N._ Oh, Samuel, when you learn the whole of this instance of
providence, you will indeed adore him with wonder: I will tell you
presently, when this good woman has taken something to eat, and has laid
down to rest herself. My husband is away for three or four days, so she
may stay here till he returns, and, if God pleases, we shall be able to
think what had best be done for her.
The mother appeared very thoughtful, and took no notice of what was
said. Her hunger was soon satisfied; she then arose, and taking Samuel
by the hand, said, “God will bless you; for he has this day shewn, by
your means, that he will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the
burning flax. I am a bruised reed, but I now feel strengthened; and as
to the flax, oil has been poured upon it, and the flame again shines
forth.--This is from God.”
Samuel sent his daughter home, and then being left alone with Nanny, he
said, “What is this peculiar instance of God’s providence which you have
discovered in the misfortunes and succour of that poor woman?”
_N._ I will tell you. Last week, my friend who has taken little Charles
to wean, and who lives about twelve miles beyond the mountains, came to
see me: among other inquiries, I asked respecting the state of her
family as to religion. She shook her head, and unwillingly told me that
she suffered a good deal of trouble from her brother-in-law, a profane
and irreligious character, who has lately returned home from a foreign
country, where he had acquired many bad habits, and among other things
had learned to scoff at religion. ‘But what grieves me most of all,’
added she, ‘is his ill treatment to his poor wife, an excellent young
woman, whom he married in a foreign country, and who has a child only a
few months old.’
_S._ What is she the woman we found?
_N._ I have no doubt of it, and for this reason: my friend told me that
this cruel hard-hearted man more than once threatened to kill her and
her child, if she continued to read her Bible, and attend a
prayer-meeting which is held in their village.
_S._ Do you suppose that she is acquainted with the truth as it is in
Jesus, and that her heart is really devoted to the Lord?
_N._ I understood she was a serious character and I now recollect that
she was the daughter of a schoolmaster, a good man, who brought up his
children in the fear of the Lord and the knowledge of the Saviour. You
heard her refer to a passage in the Bible?
_S._ Yes; I noticed it.
_N._ My friend told me she often conversed with her sister-in-law upon
serious subjects, and had no doubt God had blessed her soul.
_S._ But how came you so soon to think it was her?
_N._ When my friend spoke of her troubles, I felt deeply affected for
her unpleasant situation, and I have since then frequently wished that I
could be of use to her. This evening I sadly missed my little Charles,
and I took a walk to divert my thoughts. She came again into my mind,
and I could not help thinking of the painful situation of a serious
young woman, far from her home and her relations, and married to a
wicked man who treats her with the greatest unkindness.
_S._ It must indeed be a painful situation, and how deplorable such a
union.
_N._ While I was thinking about her, I saw you by the willows with a
young woman in a foreign dress, and an infant in her arms, it at once
struck me that she must be the poor woman of whom I was thinking, for my
friend, among other things, spoke of the dress she usually wore; and as
we were walking along, I heard her say to herself, ‘If I stop here, will
not he find me?’ I then felt sure that I was right in my conjecture.
_S._ Poor thing! it is _that_ makes her so thoughtful. I recollect when
I spoke to her, she said she had been all day travelling among the
mountains.
_N._ I am sure it is her, and I hope the Lord has brought her here for
some good.
_S._ O, the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of
God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!
I will tell my wife what has happened, and we will come in the morning
and see what can be done for the young woman. Good night; may the peace
of God be with you!
In the morning Samuel and his wife came to Nanny’s cottage, and found
her sitting before the door with the stranger, and suckling her child.
_N._ It is, as I supposed, it is Rebecca, my friend’s sister-in-law.
Samuel’s wife spoke kindly to the young woman, and after a short
conversation led her aside.
_S._ My wife is going to speak seriously to her. We do not think she has
acted quite as the word of God directs.
_N._ Neighbour Samuel, remember the bad character and ill behaviour of
her husband.
_S._ Do you not recollect I told you the other day that the faults of
others did not excuse us for neglecting our own duty.
_N._ But would you have this woman and her child exposed to such
barbarous treatment?
_S._ If she had continued enduring these things for the sake of God, and
because he has said, “If when ye do well and suffer for it, ye take it
patiently; this is acceptable with God,” 1 Pet. ii. 20. can you for a
moment suppose that he would not have sustained her under her trials?
Remember the words of St. Paul, “The woman that hath a husband which
believeth not, and if he be pleased to live with her, _let her not leave
him_.” 1 Cor. vii. 13.
Nanny felt convinced that Samuel was right.
His wife returned with Rebecca, whose eyes were full of tears.
_S._ My good Rebecca, I hope you feel that we desire to act as your
parents, and only wish to speak for your good.
_R._ Yes, I feel it, my good friends; you have spoken to me from the
Lord, and I needed your advice. I have done wrong, I have sinned against
God by my impatience, He chastened me yesterday, but he did it as a
tender father, and in mercy has, I trust, turned the evil I planned into
good.
_S’s wife._ I do hope that what has passed will prove an occasion of
good, both to you and your husband.
Rebecca shook her head, and sighed as she looked at her child.
_S._ Do not limit the power of God. Have more faith; cast all your care
upon him, for he careth for you. I intend to go to your husband to-day,
and I hope my visit will not be without effect.
[Illustration]
In the course of the day Samuel set out. He was absent three days,
during which time his wife conversed a good deal with Rebecca; they also
read the Bible, and prayed together. The young wife was deeply affected,
and said, that as soon as Samuel returned she would ask him to take her
home to her husband; adding, “I will endeavour to win him by my conduct,
as the apostle directs, and how do I know but I may be the means of
saving my husband.” 1 Cor. vii. 16. 1 Pet. iii. 1.
In the afternoon of the third day, while they were conversing upon the
duties of a Christian, as a wife and a mother, they heard some one
coming. “Here he is,” said Rebecca, running to the door; “here is good
Samuel.”
_S._ Yes, Rebecca, and I have brought somebody with me; I am not alone,
but am accompanied by a man, who I trust will in future endeavour to
walk according to the will of Him who has protected you. Here, Dennis,
(said he, raising his voice,) come in; Rebecca is waiting for you.
Dennis was her husband. He ran in, saying, “O, my dear Rebecca, forgive
your unkind husband; I have prayed to God to pardon me. O forgive me for
all the injury I have done to you and our child.”
Rebecca was deeply affected, and unable to speak for some time. At
length she said, “The Lord is good. Dennis, I was coming home to ask
your pardon, for while sinning against the Lord, I have sinned against
you also; I forgot that I was bound to obey you, and that I ought to
have waited patiently, praying that the Lord would turn your heart.”
_D._ I trust I shall now be an altered man; God sent this good man to
me, and I feel convinced of my sin. We have both of us much reason to be
thankful; these are the wonderful dealings of his providence.
Fanny just then came to call her mother, and heard what Rebecca and her
husband said about the providence of God. She remembered what she
thought a few evenings before, and what she had said to her father. She
watched for an opportunity of speaking to him, and said, “Father, you
have not yet spoken to me about what I said the other evening; but I
have thought about it a great deal, and I now clearly see that God had
not forgotten the little baby and his mother, any more than the field
mouse or the spider.”
_S._ You perceive these things, my girl, but as yet you know very little
of what the Saviour has done. Consider further, that it was Rebecca’s
grief, when she saw the suffering of her child, that made you think of
Nanny, and it was from her I learned Rebecca’s hardships, and the evil
conduct of her husband. That God, who is all powerful, all wise, and
full of goodness, whose providence orders even the smallest events, I
trust has been pleased to direct that these occurrences should lead me
to be the means of directing Dennis to his Saviour, and of reconciling
him to his wife and child. Thus you now see that God has shewed his
kindness to Rebecca, to her child, and to her husband, much more than to
the spiders and animals of the field. He gives them their food in due
season; but for his children he has provided a better gift, even “the
gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord!” My girl, the
providence of God is indeed wonderful, and his ways past finding out.
Fanny perceived the truth of what her father said. She felt in her heart
that the ways of the Lord are above our ways, and his thoughts above our
thoughts, and she determined in his strength never more to doubt the
power, nor the tender mercies, of Him who does all things for the good
of his children.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
LUCY;
OR,
“_I will not be Naughty again, Papa_.”
One day, Lucy’s father was obliged to find fault with her for something
she had done wrong. “I will not be naughty again, papa,” said she; “I
promise you, I will not be so foolish again.”
I am sorry to say, that Lucy had been a very naughty girl; she was not
so in general, but somehow she often forgot herself. Her most frequent
fault was pride, for she thought herself much wiser, and much more
clever than she really was, and this led her sometimes to disobey her
parents and teachers, and to answer rather pertly. Lucy’s mother was
dead, but her aunt took care of her father’s family. She was an
excellent woman, and was very kind to Lucy, and tried always to teach
her what was right. One morning she said, “Lucy, my dear, bring your
work; leave off playing with the cat, the clock has just struck ten.”
[Illustration]
Lucy was so silly as not to mind what her aunt said, and disobeyed;
first in actions, and then in words; for she continued to play with her
cat, and spoke in a cross manner, “You are always telling me, ‘Come,
bring your work;’ you never let me play a minute.” “Lucy,” said her
aunt, “you forget what you ought to do, and that God hears you. Is it
not your duty to mind what I say?” Lucy put down the cat, and walked
very slowly across the room to fetch her work; and, as soon as she was
seated, muttered to herself, “How tiresome it is to be obliged always to
do as one is bid.”
[Illustration]
In the evening, her father asked whether Lucy had been a good girl, and
was very sorry to hear what had happened; presently it was time for
family prayer, he rang the bell, and the children and servants all came
in.
Lucy did not know that her father was acquainted with what had happened,
and I regret to add, that she had not shewn any sorrow at having been so
naughty.
[Illustration]
Her father opened the Bible, and read the sixth chapter of St. Paul’s
Epistle to the Ephesians. If you look at your Testament, you will find
it begins thus, “_Children, obey your Parents in the Lord: for this is
right._”
When he had finished the chapter, he said a few words about what he had
read, and observed that God desired to see a teachable spirit in
children; and that they should do as the hymn reminded them,
“Whenever I’m saying my prayer,
I’ll ask for a teachable heart.”
He also spoke of the sinfulness of pride and self-conceit, which led to
disobedience to the will of the Lord.
“Children often suppose,” said he, “that they need not mind what they
are told, unless they please; and then they sometimes murmur against
those whom they ought to obey. A child who acts thus, in reality
disobeys God, and refuses to take up the yoke of Christ. This is very
plain, for if our Lord was to appear as he did when upon earth, and
should enter the room while little boys or girls acted in this manner, I
am sure they would hide their faces before the blessed Son of God. It
would be quite clear, then, that they were doing wrong, and that they
had forgotten that God sees them, although they do not see Him, and that
he is not pleased with their conduct.
“Children should also remember that they are to obey their teachers, and
those who are set over them, just the same as their parents; for as God
gave this power to their parents, and they have placed them with their
teachers, so children are to obey their teachers just the same as their
parents.
“It is then necessary,” added he, speaking slowly and in an impressive
manner, “that all children should be convinced that it is their duty to
be obedient to all who are set over them. They must also remember, that
in refusing to do what they are told, they disobey the commands of God.”
The family then knelt down, and the father prayed, that all who were
then present, and especially the children, might humbly submit to the
will of God, as set forth in his holy word.
Lucy’s conscience told her, that her father had said this on her
account; when she rose from her knees, she felt very unhappy, and was
afraid to go and kiss him as usual.
I hardly need remark, that when she felt that she had done wrong, she
ought to have humbled herself and asked pardon of God, and then
intreated her aunt to forgive her. But her pride would not let her do
so, and she did not try to subdue it. Pride not only leads people to do
wrong, but also causes them to persist in evil.
It was bed-time, and Lucy went to bed in this stubborn humour; I need
not say she was very unhappy. She did not venture to repeat her prayer,
and that is a _very_ bad sign indeed; for when children dare not pray to
God, it is a proof that their consciences tell them they have done
wrong, and that they do not feel really sorry for what they have done.
The next morning, when Lucy awoke, she felt still more unhappy, and did
not like the thought of meeting her father and her aunt. But ought not
she to have been more unhappy because God saw her? Is it not strange
that a naughty child is afraid of being seen by a father, or a mother,
or a teacher, but does not fear being seen by God? for “the eyes of the
Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.” It is very
easy for a child to _say_ this, but how few there are who shew by their
actions that they _believe_ it.
When Lucy was dressed, she ought to have said her prayers before she
went down stairs. She felt troubled just as she had done the evening
before. The voice of God whispered in her heart, “Acknowledge your
fault, and pray to be forgiven.” She also remembered our Lord’s kind
invitation: “Come unto me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest.” But poor Lucy tried to put away these thoughts, and instead
of kneeling down, she employed herself in other things; she was a long
while washing her hands, then she folded up her clothes very neatly, and
set the room to rights, and she recollected to feed her bird that
morning, although at other times she frequently forgot it. I have often
seen little folks act in this manner. When they know they have done
wrong, their pride will not allow them to acknowledge their fault, but
they are very careful to do _other_ things right. They forget that they
ought to do _all things_ properly, so that if one is done wrong, the
doing a great many other things right will not make up for it. But they
try to escape from Him who is greater than our hearts, who knows all the
thoughts, and discovers to us the evil that is in them.
All these little employments served to pass away the time, and to keep
away thought; and Lucy was so silly as to wish for this. At last, she
heard her father’s voice, calling the family to come in to prayers. Lucy
then began to go down stairs; she went down very slowly. When she came
down to the parlour-door, she stopped a minute, and then entered the
room; but she hung down her head, and looked very unhappy. Her father
began to read as usual; it was the parable of the Prodigal Son. Lucy
listened till he came to the verse, “I will arise, and go unto my
father, and say, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee.”
She was struck with these words, tears came into her eyes, and she
hastily drew out her handkerchief to hide them.
Her father perceived what was passing in her heart, and when the chapter
was finished, he added a few words on the relief which we may find by
humbling ourselves before God, and lamenting our offenses like the
prodigal.
[Illustration]
“God is love,” said he; “his tender mercies are over all his works; he
takes no pleasure in punishing us; but, on the contrary, in his mercy
warns us against offending him; and when we have done wrong, he desireth
not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn from the error
of his ways; and, like a kind shepherd, He brings us back to himself.
“Let us remember that the Saviour, yes, the Son of God, gave himself for
his sinful and wretched creatures. Why, then, should we doubt his love,
and suppose that he will refuse to listen to us willingly? He does not
take pleasure in seeing us in a state of enmity with him. No; his love
is soon felt by a poor sinner, when he is convinced of his fault, and
believes in the pardon which God the Father offers, through Jesus
Christ, his Son.”
These words went to Lucy’s heart. As soon as prayer was over, she
hastened to her room, and kneeling down, prayed for pardon through the
blood of Jesus Christ. God, who is faithful and just to forgive us our
sins, and to grant those things which are asked in the name of Jesus
Christ, (John xvi. 23.) was pleased to hear her prayer, and send an
answer of peace.
[Illustration]
Lucy now felt relieved from the heavy burden which oppressed her mind.
She ran to her father’s room, and opening the door, threw herself into
his arms, exclaiming, “O, my dear papa, do forgive me; I wish I had not
been naughty.”
“My dear Lucy,” said he, “then I trust God has been pleased to touch
your heart, and has humbled your spirit before him. Poor girl! you
refused the tender offers of mercy of our kind Saviour for a long time.
O, Lucy, how could you harden your heart against a God so full of
loving-kindness and tender mercies? Were you happy, when your mind was
in that state? Were you able to pray, and read your Bible?”
_Lucy._ No, papa; I did not like to think about God, and I was afraid to
read his word.
_Father._ Poor girl! so you avoided all thoughts of your heavenly Father
and Redeemer. Were you really afraid to read God’s holy word?
_L._ But I am not afraid now, papa; I have prayed to God in my own room,
and I feel now as if he had pardoned me; I feel happier now, and I will
not be naughty again; I promise you I will not.
_F._ Lucy, tell me the truth; have you not often told your aunt and me
that you would not be naughty again?
_L._ Why, yes, papa, I have said so before; several times.
_F._ Then you have several times broken your promise; although, I
believe, you intended to have kept it. How has this happened?
_L._ Why, somehow, I was naughty again; I forgot my promise.
_F._ But, my dear, how came you to forget it so easily, since you
promised it of your own accord, and wished to keep your word?
_L._ Perhaps, papa, it was because I did not pray to God to keep me from
evil.
_F._ Yes; it was because you made the promise in your own strength,
trusting only to your own good resolutions. I will tell you something of
which it reminds me.
One day, a gardener had planted two trees; they were both of them very
weak, and during the night, the wind loosened one of them. When the
gardener came in the morning, he took a stake, and fixing it firmly in
the ground, tied the tree to it. “Now,” said he, “it is quite safe.”
In the evening the wind was higher than before. The tree which was tied
to the stake remained firm in its place; but the other was blown quite
down, and the gardener found, the next day, that it was broken and quite
spoiled.
[Illustration]
“This is a sad business,” said he; “I forgot that if one of these trees
needed a stake to support it, the other would want one also.” He then
looked round the garden very carefully, and wherever he found a tree
that was weak, he placed a stake to secure it.
_L._ Oh, papa, I have found out what you mean;--I was like the tree
without a support, when I promised of myself, and without looking to God
for strength to enable me to perform what I had promised; and as I have
always forgot this, I have so often done wrong.
_F._ My dear girl, remember this: we are sinners by nature; and when we
give way to anger, pride, envy, or any other sins, which are called the
works of the flesh, we act in the manner to which we are most inclined.
Then if we wish to do the will of God,--I mean those things which are
called the “fruits of the Spirit,”--we must look for a power to enable
us to do them, different from that which is in our own hearts. So, when
you said, just now, “I will not be naughty again, papa; I promise you I
will not,” it was just as if that crab-tree which grows in the hedge
should say, “I am determined that I will bear as good fruit as the
golden pippin in the orchard.” You know that an apple-tree must be
grafted with a good sort before it can bring forth good fruit. Suppose,
now, that the crab-tree could speak, and really desired to bear nice
apples, what would it say?
[Illustration]
_L._ It must ask the gardener to graft it with some good sort, or else
it would continue to bear just the same as usual.
_F._ Then what must my dear Lucy do, if she desires to bring forth the
good fruits of the Spirit--love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,
goodness, faith, meekness, temperance?
_L._ Then, dear papa, (as you said the other day,) I must ask the
Saviour to cleanse me from my sins by his precious blood, that I may be
sanctified by the Holy Spirit, so that I may learn to do His will.