"Why am I so unhappy to-day?" said Isabella Gardner, as she opened her
eyes on the morning of her fourteenth birth-day. "Is it because the sun
is not bright enough, or the flowers are not sweet enough?" she added,
as she looked on the glorious sunshine that lay upon the rose-bushes
surrounding her window.
Isabella arose, and dressed herself, and tried to drive away her
uncomfortable feelings, by thinking of the pleasures of the afternoon,
when some of her young friends were to assemble to keep her birth-day.
But she could not do it; and, sad and restless, she walked in her
father's garden, and seated herself on a little bench beneath a shady
tree. Everything around was pleasant; the flowers seemed to send up
their gratitude to Heaven in sweetness, and the little birds in songs of
joy. All spoke peace and love, and Isabella could find nothing there
like discontent or sorrow. The cause of her present troubled feelings
was to be found within.
Isabella Gardner was in the habit of indulging in a fretful and peevish
temper. She was often "hasty in her spirit to be angry;" forgetting that
the wise Solomon says, "Anger resteth in the bosom of fools;" and that a
greater than Solomon had commanded her to forgive, as she would be
forgiven.
Her disrespect and ill-humor toward her parents had caused her many
unhappy days and sleepless nights; and often had the day closed on
faults unrepented of, and sins unforgiven. It was but the afternoon
before that she had spoken in a high angry tone to her eldest sister,
Mary, and parted in displeasure from her brother Edward, because he
would not leave his studies to go into the garden with her. Thus had the
"sun gone down upon her wrath;" and we cannot be surprised that when it
rose in the morning she was unhappy.
Isabella had a generous temper; and after she had been unkind or unjust,
she was frequently sorry, and determined to be so no more; but her
regret was forgotten as soon as she was again tempted; and at the age
of thirteen she had gained no victory over the sinful habit of indulging
in an angry temper.
Isabella had kind and indulgent parents;--parents who looked with
thankfulness upon the virtues, and with sorrow upon the faults, of their
children, and prayed that the former might be strengthened, and the
latter corrected. Mrs. Gardner had long seen with deep anxiety the
growing defect in Isabella's temper, and it was now brought more
painfully home to her feelings, as she reflected how much an added year
increased the responsibility of her child.
She had risen early, and had been long engaged in prayer to Him who can
alone regulate the unruly dispositions, wills, and passions of sinful
men. She prayed for knowledge of her duty to her child, and for
strength to perform it: she prayed for Isabella, that God would convince
her of the error of her way; that his Holy Spirit might renew her in the
spirit of her mind, that she might become a child and follower of the
Lord Jesus Christ.
Long and anxiously the pious mother continued her supplications at the
throne of grace; and after taking her Bible, and reading the blessed
assurance, "I can do all things through Christ strengthening me," she
went into the garden to meet Isabella. She found her there, sitting as
we have described, alone and sorrowful. "What is the matter, Isabella,"
said Mrs. Gardner, in a kind tone: "why are you so sad on the morning of
your birth-day?"
[Illustration]
"I don't know, mother," replied Isabella; "I believe it is because
nobody loves me."
"Isabella," said Mrs. Gardner, "I am afraid nobody will love you long if
you go on as you have done lately, giving way to angry feelings whenever
anything opposes your wishes; and, what is much worse, you will offend
your heavenly Father, if you thus continue to break his holy commands."
"I can't help being displeased, mother, when people show me that they
don't like me, and try to vex me."
"Seldom does any one vex us on purpose, Isabella. It is the bad state of
our own hearts that makes us think we are not liked; and, besides, Jesus
Christ has forbidden us to be angry even when there are real faults. He
tells us to forgive others, as he has forgiven us; and do you think you
have obeyed him?"
"No, mother; but people must be angry when they are treated unfairly;
and the girls at school are often very unkind and unjust to me; and I am
sure I ought to show them that I don't like it."
"Such is not the gospel rule, Isabella; and that alone should be your
guide. There you are directed to love those who treat you unkindly, to
do good to those that hate you, and to 'pray for those who despitefully
use you.' The recollection of your own need of forgiveness from God,
ought to make you patient toward the faults of others."
"Very often, mother, when I try to do my best, I am misunderstood, and
reproved; and then I am sure even the best persons would be displeased."
"Not if they are disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, Isabella. Was he
not holy and undefiled, pure, spotless, and without sin? and was he not
persecuted, falsely accused, and scourged? reviled and rejected by men,
betrayed by one disciple, and forsaken by all the rest? Yet no word of
evil passion was ever heard from him. He opened not his mouth, nor would
he suffer another to resent any of the insults offered to him. 'The
disciple is not above his Master;' and if we profess to follow Jesus
Christ, we must learn to bear all things, and try 'to be perfect, as our
Father in heaven is perfect.'
"Forgiveness of injuries is a high duty, and patiently to bear injustice
is one of the greatest Christian excellences. God alone can give us the
right temper of mind, but we must ourselves try to attain it. Perhaps
you may recollect what Peter says about suffering patiently for
well-doing. To be sure, those to whom he was preaching were suffering in
a great cause; but the conquest of our faults is a great cause to us;
and we may all apply his words to our own cases. He was preaching to the
Christians at Pontus, who were enduring persecution in the cause of
Christ,--'For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults,
ye shall take it patiently? but if, when ye do well, and suffer for it,
ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.'" 1 Pet. ii, 20.
Isabella, as usual, acknowledged her error, and said she would try to
correct it.
"Do you know, Isabella," said Mrs. Gardner, "that you have promised me
this a great many times before?"
"Yes, mother."
"And do you know that, by thus repeatedly breaking your promises, you
add to the sins already committed?"
"Yes, mother."
"And do you know, my child, the reason why you cannot keep your
promises?"
"No, mother; I am sure I try to keep them; but before I think I get
angry."
"We are all weak and sinful creatures," said Mrs. Gardner; "and without
help from God we can do no good thing. Even the apostle Paul found that
when he would do good, evil was present with him: so that the best
persons require aid from above, to enable them to keep in the right
path. You must be convinced of your own weakness, Isabella, before you
will feel the need of this assistance; and I should think your failures
in your efforts to regulate your temper would be enough of it.
"This is the commencement of your new year. On this day you begin
another term of duty. Think of all your faults; think particularly of
that which now troubles you so much: then go to God, and humbly confess
to him your wickedness; seek the influence of the Holy Spirit; promise
from this day to try and govern your temper, and promise it in his
presence. Ask God to help you to keep this resolution; pray that you may
be gentle, kind, and forgiving; humble, and willing to be reproved; and
that the beginning of your new year may be the beginning of a new life
with you.
"I now leave you to think of these things, and commit you to Him who
can alone make you perfect in every good work, with the earnest prayer
that he may cleanse and purify your heart, and lead you into the path of
life."
Isabella turned to her mother, and large tears rolled down her cheeks as
she said, "Mother, I feel the truth of what you say; I feel that I have
been an ungrateful child; I have neglected my duty to you, to my father,
sister, brothers, and friends; and I now see, for the first time, how
greatly I have been offending God. From him I will first seek
forgiveness, through the atonement of Christ, and before him I will make
a solemn resolution to try, from this day, to subdue my sinful temper. I
say, I will promise to try; I dare not promise to do it: I fear I shall
fall back many times; and perhaps before this day closes I shall have
to repent of angry words and wicked feelings."
My young readers, if any of you are conscious of having the same fault
that Isabella determined to endeavor to correct, make with her now a
resolution to pray, and strive against it, and go to your heavenly
Father, and ask his assistance. Plead earnestly in the name of Christ
for the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Mrs. Gardner heard with gratitude the determination of her child, and
left her with an affectionate wish that her birth-day might pass
happily. When Isabella returned to her chamber she found upon her table
a large Bible. It was a birth-day gift from her parents, and beneath
Isabella's name were written the words which stand on the title-page of
this book,--"He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he
that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city." Prov. xvi, 32.
Isabella had two brothers, Edward and George: they were both younger
than herself. Mary, her only sister, was seventeen years old, and was a
lovely example of gentleness and piety. She was not so quick as
Isabella; but she had "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit," which
is far more beautiful in the sight of God than the most brilliant
worldly accomplishments. Her faults were controlled by Christian
principle and self-denial; and an affectionate interest in the happiness
of others marked her conduct.
On the morning of Isabella's birthday, Mary was busily employed in
arranging fresh flowers in the little parlor, and in trying to make
everything look pleasant for her sister. The recollection of Isabella's
unkindness to her the day before, while it grieved her kind heart, only
made her the more anxious to add to her happiness.
This was like many other summer days. Though it opened in sunshine, it
closed in clouds. At about twelve o'clock the bright light was darkened,
and soon the heavy rain began to fall.
"How cross Isabella will be this afternoon!" said Edward to his sister
Mary. "I am sure I don't want to see her; she will be so angry because
it rains."
"That is a very unkind remark, Edward," replied Mary, "and shows a
wrong state of feeling. I have not heard Isabella speak an angry word
to-day; and instead of wishing to be out of her way, you ought to try to
do all that you can to make up to her for the disappointment she will
feel at not seeing her young friends."
"You are right, sister Mary," said Edward: "in judging Isabella I was
committing the same sin myself; and I thank you for correcting me. I
will try to make my sister happy; but I do hope that as she grows older
she will become more amiable, and do to others as she would have them do
to her."
At this moment Isabella entered the room. There was no blue sky to be
seen, nor any prospect of fair weather.
"I am sorry that your friends will not be able to come this afternoon,
Isabella," said Mary; "but we will all try to make the evening of your
birth-day pass pleasantly; and when our father comes home, I am sure he
will read to us in any book you wish."
Isabella thanked her sister, and said she thought she deserved the
disappointment.
After tea Mr. Gardner read a very interesting book to his children. They
listened with pleasure, and had a happy evening; and when they knelt in
family devotion, Isabella deeply felt her father's petition, that as his
children grew in years, they might, like their divine Master, "grow in
favor with God and man." She went to bed that night with a cheerful
heart, rejoicing that she had been able to keep her resolution for one
day. "I give God thanks," said she, "that his grace has been sufficient
for this purpose."
One afternoon Isabella asked her sister Mary to go with her to see their
cousins, who lived about half a mile from their father's house. Mary
told her that she would be glad to go with her on any other day, but
that she was engaged that afternoon, to visit her Sunday-school
children. Mary had been a Sunday-school teacher but a short time, and
she was deeply interested in the sacred work. Isabella had set her heart
upon going to see her cousins, and doubted not that Mary would have been
ready to go with her. She was disappointed; and, forgetting herself,
she told Mary that she thought she was very unkind, and that she had
better oblige her sister, than go and see children that did not care
anything about her. Isabella spoke angrily, and looked displeased. One
moment after she remembered her resolution; but she was then too proud
to confess her fault.
Mary made no reply, but soon went out upon her errand of love. The faces
of the little children brightened with pleasure as she entered their
doors. "Dear Miss Mary," said one little blue-eyed girl, "I have learned
my verse in the Bible every morning, as you said I must; and to-morrow I
shall say to you seven verses out of the second chapter of Matthew,
about the birth of Jesus Christ in Bethlehem, of Judea."
"And I," said her little sister, "have learned my hymn, about 'little
children, love each other;' and I have tried to love brother John, and
to be kind to sister Susan, as you said was right."
"Does no one but I say that you must love your brothers and sisters,
Nancy?" said Mary.
"O yes," said Nancy; "our Lord Jesus Christ says so; and he says we
cannot be his children unless we love one another. I think of that
sometimes, but sister Susan thinks of it much oftener than I do; and
when John and I get angry in our play, or speak cross to any one at
school, she will come, and say so sweetly, 'Little children, love each
other.'"
Mary told Nancy to remember her hymn at all times, and to be early at
Sunday school the next morning, to say it to her.
Mary found one of her scholars sick,--a little girl, named Sarah, who on
the Sunday before was as bright and as well as any child in school. Now
her hands were burning with fever, and her large dark eyes were dim with
disease. Once they brightened a little when Mary spoke to her of her
class, but she soon turned over her little head, and sunk into an uneasy
sleep. Her Testament was by her bedside, and her mother said that her
last effort, before she was taken ill, was to learn her Sunday lesson.
Mary watched by her all the afternoon: she lifted her aching head, and
spread under it the cool pillows: she bathed her burning temples, and
gently fanned her; and when, she gave the medicine, she silently prayed
that the means used for her recovery might be blessed. Sarah did not
speak, but when she opened her eyes she looked pleased that Mary was
beside her. She remained with the little sufferer until her brother came
for her in the evening, and promised to return the next day.
Isabella had gone to her room before Mary got home. She did not like to
meet her; for the unpleasant feelings had not left her bosom, though she
sincerely regretted her impatience. Pride now prevented her
acknowledging her fault. When alone, she took her Bible, and sat down to
read our Saviour's sermon on the mount. As the sacred precepts, one
after another, met her eye, she felt serious and humble. When she came
to the verse, "If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there
rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee; leave there thy
gift before the altar, and go thy way: first be reconciled to thy
brother, and then come and offer thy gift;" she felt that Jesus Christ
had spoken these words directly to her. She had often read them before,
but never until this moment had they reached her heart.
"What gift have I to lay upon God's altar?" she said to herself: "prayer
is my only offering; one that I am now about to present. Will God accept
it while I am angry with my sister? O no! I will go this moment to her,
and confess my fault, and ask her forgiveness. I will first be
reconciled, and then come and offer my gift."
She went to Mary's room, and putting her arms around her neck, she said,
"Dear sister, I cannot ask God to forgive me my trespasses this night
until I have told you how sorry I am that I treated you so unkindly this
afternoon. You are a good, affectionate sister to me, and I am very
ungrateful. Will you forgive me? I will try to check my impatient
feelings in future, and I hope to try in better strength than my own."
"I am quite ready to forgive you," said Mary, affectionately: "the
offense to me is but a trifle; it is not that I regret. It is the sin we
commit against God, when we give way to improper feelings of any kind,
we should mourn over. He has commanded us to be patient and forgiving;
and it makes me sad to think how often we grieve his Holy Spirit by
doing what we know is wrong."
"It is a source of daily sorrow to me," replied Isabella, "that I cannot
cultivate the temper of mind which is pleasing to God and man."
"I have rejoiced lately, dear Isabella, to see you bear many little
disappointments patiently; and until yesterday I have scarcely heard a
hasty word from you for some time. I hope you will persevere, and that
we shall both of us grow better as we grow older."
"Yes," said Isabella, "I have endeavored lately to subdue my evil
temper, which is the source of so much trouble to me, I had hoped that I
had in some degree succeeded, for many a time when I have felt an angry
passion rising, I have tried to lift up my heart to God, and to say,
'Lord, give me strength to resist this temptation;' but to-day I have
gone very far back, and how can I be forgiven for thus breaking the
solemn resolution I made on my birth-day?"
"Do not say so, Isabella. Humbly confess your fault before God: he will
forgive you according to his promise through Christ Jesus, and encourage
you in your renewed efforts. God seeth not as man seeth: he knows how
frail and weak we are, and he sees every penitent tear, and rejoices
over every effort we make to overcome besetting sins. Our Lord Jesus
Christ should be our example of forbearance. No angry words were ever
heard from him, and he is not willing to hear them from those who call
themselves his followers. Let us pray, my dear sister, 'that the same
mind may be in us that was also in Christ Jesus.'"
"I hear kind instructive words from you, my dear sister, and from my
parents, teachers, and other friends, and I hope they will not be lost
upon me. The Bible is much dearer to me now than it once was, and I find
there simple directions for every duty. Formerly when I read my
Saviour's words, if I applied them at all, it was to somebody else
rather than myself; but now I begin to feel that I need his blessed
counsels more than anybody."
"I am thankful, Isabella, to hear you speak so of the Bible. May it be a
lamp unto the feet and a light unto the path, of us both; then our
footsteps will not slip, and we shall be faithful children, sisters, and
friends. Jesus Christ came to this world to save us from the power as
well as the punishment of sin; and his gospel must purify our hearts,
and correct our daily faults, or it will do us no good."
Isabella listened attentively to her sister's words. She felt their
value, for she saw how faithfully Mary practiced what she taught.
"Good night, dear sister," said Isabella: "may the humbling recollection
of to-day's failure strengthen me in my efforts to keep my resolution."
As week after week passed by, Isabella Gardner met new difficulties to
oppose her resolution; but though often cast down, she gained strength
every day.
Her trials at her day-school were very great, for her school-fellows did
not know how she was endeavoring to correct her great fault; and they
would often avoid her company in their walks and amusements, knowing how
she formerly made them unhappy by her caprices. She bore all this
patiently, and would leave her companions immediately when anything was
said or done that displeased her; and by going away by herself she was
prevented from making a hasty reply, and had time to reflect and gather
strength for future trials.
It was hard for Isabella to "cease to do evil," and harder still for her
to "learn to do well;" and it would fill a much larger book than this,
were I to tell you of all the difficulties she met with in trying to
"put on the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit."
But God was near. He saw her efforts and her failures, and he saw that
his correcting hand must be stretched forth to finish the good work
which he had begun. He sent sickness upon her, and the lately blooming
Isabella was laid low upon the bed of pain. It was then she was called
upon to "let patience have its perfect work."
When Isabella heard her physician say that she would probably be ill for
a long time, she thought of her resolution, and feared that she would be
unable to keep it when there was so much pain to bear, and so much
medicine to be taken. Then the solemn thought came that death might be
very near, and that she might have but a little time left to correct her
fault; and she determined to pray for patience, and to be particularly
watchful over herself.
"I have indulged my old habit of fretfulness a good deal to-day,
mother," she said, as Mrs. Gardner sat down by her side, after making
everything ready for the night. "I fear I shall never correct it; but I
did not think of this sick bed when I made my resolution."
"Has not God promised to be 'about your bed, and about your path,' my
dear child?" said Mrs. Gardner.
"Yes, mother; and could I but remember his presence, I should not so
often grieve you by my impatience."
"You must not talk any more tonight, Isabella," said her mother
affectionately; "but try to go to sleep, and remember that God is always
near you, and that his Holy Spirit is more grieved than even your mother
by any disobedience to his commands. I love you, and forgive you. Now go
to sleep, and may you awake refreshed in body and soul."
Mary nursed her sister night and day, and never left her except when
Mrs. Gardner insisted upon her going away to rest herself. Isabella was
often impatient toward her, but Mary quietly went on treating her with
more and more tenderness. She scarcely spoke, but humbly and silently
went on doing everything a sister's love could suggest.
"I wish you would speak cross to me sometimes," said Isabella to her
one day, "and then I should not feel so sorry after I had been unkind
to you; but you are so patient and good, that it makes me quite ashamed
of my fretfulness."
"I will do anything for you but that, Isabella," said Mary; "but it is
my constant prayer that my Saviour may grant me the temper of mind that
becometh his disciple, and that I may 'sin not with my lips' against
him."
Isabella became rapidly worse, and the sorrowful countenance of her
father, and the anxious tenderness of her mother, showed how dear their
erring child was to their hearts.
Edward would come home early from school to know how his sister was, and
to see if there was anything he could do for her; and the merry voice of
little George was still, and no one heard the sound of his ball or top.
It was a house of sadness, but of composure,--a house of Christian
sorrow! Trouble had entered it; but its inmates felt that the trouble
came from a Father's hand, and that they should have no more than He who
knew them best, and loved them best, saw was for their good. They felt
their Saviour's presence, and rested upon his words, "My grace is
sufficient for thee."
But this sickness was not unto death: God raised Isabella from her bed
of pain to glorify him by the holy obedience of her life. To the eye of
man there was much yet to be done; but her heart was humbled, and her
pride subdued; and He who knew all her weakness, saw that she would
persevere, and that his chastisement had answered the purpose for which
it had been sent.
As Isabella began to recover, the confinement to her room, and her
extreme weakness, were rather more difficult to bear than her sickness.
She was, however, mild and very thoughtful, and she would sit sometimes
for an hour in the easy chair, with her face covered with her hands.
One evening she asked her mother if she had seen her show a wrong spirit
during the day.
"I have not," said Mrs. Gardner.
"I am glad of it," said Isabella: "I have been trying to be faithful to
myself, and I rejoice that one day has passed at the close of which my
mother can give me a smile of approbation. I have been looking back upon
this long sickness, and I fear I have not improved as I ought: I must
begin in earnest now, relying upon divine assistance."
It was a happy morning in Mr. Gardner's family when Isabella once more
took her usual seat at the breakfast table. She was pale and thin: the
glow of health had left her cheeks; but there was an expression there
that showed the better health of the soul. The grateful child joined the
family group at breakfast with a prayer that she might never again
disturb its harmony.
But little time had passed before her school companions found that she
was "renewed in the spirit of her mind." They found her ready to forgive
those who injured her, willing to oblige others, and to be pleased
herself. They soon began to love her much; for her bright, active mind,
made her a delightful companion; and it was not long before Isabella
Gardner was one of the most pleasing and best-esteemed girls in school.
The beautiful summer had passed, and the solemn autumn. The green fields
had given their rich crops to the farmers, making glad their hearts with
an abundance of good things. In short, winter had come, and was nearly
gone.
At the close of a cold day the family of Mr. Gardner were sitting by
their comfortable fire. "I have been thinking," said little George, as
he looked into the bright fire, "how good sister Isabella has grown
lately. She has not spoken a cross word to me since I can remember; and
cousin Emily Gray says she would rather come to see her than anybody,
now that she is so kind and obliging."
Mr. Gardner tried, by a serious look and shake of the head, to make
little George understand that he did not like his remarks; but George
did not see him, and went on to say that he should like to know how
Isabella had managed to grow so good.
"I see your kindness, dear father," said Isabella, "in wishing George to
be silent lest he should hurt my feelings; but you need not shake your
head at him, for I am quite willing that he should say what he thinks. I
have noticed how carefully you and mother have avoided speaking of my
faults; but I have known by your silent kindness that you have seen and
approved of my efforts to overcome them. I have done but little; but I
hope by perseverance to become more worthy to be your child.
"You say, George, that I have grown better, and wonder what has made me
so. I will tell you, my dear brother. My mother's counsels and prayers
first directed me to the source of all strength,--to God, and his holy
word. I had neglected her wishes, and showed disrespect to her
authority; and in sorrow, but in much love, she committed me to the care
of my heavenly Parent. She led me to Jesus, who was meek and lowly in
heart. From him I have sought dayly, hourly help, and to him let all the
praise be given, if I have succeeded at all in subduing my unruly
temper. My long sickness, last autumn, brought me to feel my great
weakness and entire dependence upon God, and gave me time for
reflection. The patient kindness of my friends humbled me also; for I
felt how little I deserved it; and I resolved anew, that if my life was
spared, I would be a better child in future. But I have much yet to do,
and the constant effort that I am obliged to make, to conquer this one
fault, is enough to keep me humble."
"I don't quite understand all that you have said, Isabella," replied
George; "but I know it is much like what father and mother have often
told me, that when I don't know exactly how to do right, I must go to
God, and he will always direct me."
"I can scarcely tell you, George, how much happier I am now than I used
to be. I wish I could tell you and every friend I have. My disrespect to
my father and mother caused me many a bitter tear, while my unkindness
to my brothers and sisters made my dayly life unhappy; and after my
angry disputes with my school-fellows, I was left in a troubled state of
mind, vexed with myself and them. Now, with all my strivings and
failures, I have much peace; and I believe every one will have it just
in proportion as he or she obeys the commandment of the Lord Jesus
Christ, 'Love one another.'"
Mr. Gardner embraced his child, and when again they knelt in evening
devotion, he prayed that love to God and man might reign in the bosom of
each of his family, that when they were called from this world of trial
and temptation, they might all meet in those blessed regions where all
is love, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.
* * * * *
"Why am I so happy this morning?" said Isabella Gardner, as she arose
from her bed, just one year after the day on which this little history
of her trials commenced: "because, through the grace of God, I have, in
some degree, subdued my sinful and unruly temper."