162 HOW MUCH IS IT WORTH, MOTHER? pleasure for the service of God. They besought and commanded her to return to the gay world; they surrounded her with her fashionable friends; but she was still stricken in heart. At last, these parents actually bribed her to attend a large party of pleasure by the gift of the richest dress that could be purchased in the city. Love of dress had been her besetting weakness. Caught in the snare of Satan, she consented; went to the festival, and returned without one trace of her religious emotions. She had put out the light of grace. But the joy of her miserable parents was short. In another week their daughter was at the point of death, and the physicians they summoned in their alarm could only tell them there was no hope. When this was made known to the dying girl, she lay for a few minutes in perfect silence; her soul seemed to be surveying the past, and looking into the future; then, rousing herself, she ordered a servant to bring that dress, and hang it upon the bed. She next sent for her father and mother; in a few minutes they stood weeping at her side. She looked upon each of them for a time, and then, lifting up her hand and pointing to the dress, said to each of them distinctly, and with the calmness of despair-Father, mother, there is the price of my soul !' "Oh, mother, was it not dreadful," said William, as he laid down the book, "to drive her down to the gate of the grave like that? How will they meet her in the judgment? Was not her soul worth more, mother? You would not like to see me die so, mother, would you?" "Do not talk so, child; it is horrible; you make me quite nervous.' "But, mother, the Bible asks, 'What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?' and the soul must be worth a good deal, mother, as the Saviour died to save it. Do you not think so, mother?" "Perhaps so, William." "I do not think I can play chess this evening, mother; I would rather read another story to you." Saying this, the young man pulled from his pocket CARE FOR THE OUTCASTS. 163 a small, thin book. Mrs. Hammond glanced towards it, and replied, "Why, William, that is your Testament!" Yes, mother, but there are stories here, for all that; only listen while I read the story of the ten virgins in the 25th of Matthew." "Oh, mother," said William earnestly, after he had read it; "I hope the door will not be shut against us!" "I hope not, my son," replied Mrs. Hammond, affectionately taking his hand, while a tear glistened in her eye. "You have become a good teacher to me; where did you get your knowledge?" "I have been thinking about these things, mother, ever since our clergyman preached from the text-'What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?' and I begin to think eternity is of more importance than this world. How much do you think the soul is worth, mother?" CARE FOR THE OUTCASTS.-No. VIII. "Grievous indeed must be the burden that shall outweigh innocence and health." On another occasion Mary had been sent on some business to the Institution, and was asked by the matron if she had heard the sermon preached for the benefit of the Home of Refuge, to which she replied "Oh, yes, ma'am ; and when the good minister was showing how many evils such poor creatures were snatched from, I wished that I could have got up and told all present what I had been saved from. My heart was so full of the goodness of God to me, in plucking me as a brand from the burning, that I could not touch my dinner. I should have liked many there to have gone to the humble cottage of my parents, to have living testimony of their gratitude for the recovery of a lost child." Ten years have now passed since Mary left the Institution, and they have passed in one uniform, consistent walk and conduct; for four years she has been respectably married, and is herself a mother. She is still the comfort and solace of her aged mother, who yet survives, and whose mind has been enlarged by many precious truths brought from the Bible by the child she failed not to admonish as far as her own light and knowledge of evil extended, which appears to have been in Mary's early days very limited; but one important trait in this mother's character was, that she never encouraged or winked at sin, but always condemned it not only by words but actions. Mothers, remember your children read your actions— your words-your looks. Watch them constantly, and think not when they can in some measure care for their bodily wants that your work is done, and that they can now take their own course; this is the very period of their lives the most perilous-when they need most watchfulness, that the self-will and false independence arising from their inexperience may be checked by a mother's love and firmness. Oh, keep near the hearts of your children; let them see the deep tone of your feeling for them-it may be as a hedge about their path when the eye of maternal love cannot reach them. And, mother! if your own children are all safe, can you not reach forth a hand to save the child of some mother passed into the skies? Is there not encouragement to care for the outcast? A FATHER'S PAGE. To the Editor of "The Mother's Friend." IT is long since I last wrote to you, and since then I have become a father. I find it a pleasing occupation to witness the expansion of my dear child's intellect; at the same time I endeavour to draw it forth and strengthen it at every opportunity. As much for this as for exercise, I endeavour once during the day to take it through the fields and lanes with hich our island abounds, and get it to notice the streams, the ittle, the birds, &c., and thus to exercise its young faculties, ɔticing day after day the same object, and thus strengthening s memory and aiding its recollections. You may well imagine at this is an exceedingly pleasing occupation. Let no one think that this is wasting time; no, more than he time which would suffice for this is almost daily lost in omething else. Twenty minutes, or less, I find quite sufficient; nd more than this, I find work sweeter afterwards on account of the refreshing walk I have enjoyed; and thus father and child are benefited. It was on the occasion of one of these walks that my dear child was overcome by sleep, and having a little leisure just then, I retired to a stile near, under the spreading branches of a beautiful elm, and surrounded with beautiful rustic scenery, and there, laying the little thing in as easy a posture as I could, I let her sleep on. The linnet sung her lullaby, the arms of her fond father was her cradle, and the branches of the stately tree was its covering. Could I help reflections. I could not. I thought upon the lines "Here every prospect pleases, But, ah! it almost occasioned a struggle to apply this to my dear, sweet child. But let God be true, and (if need be) every man a liar. "Born in sin" -"shapen in iniquity." Yes; affection cannot alter this. Paternal love must bow to it. And why not? God in His own grace has provided a remedy, and now, blessed be His name! we can afford to avow the disease. He wounds to heal-He strikes to bless! Still sitting, I endeavoured to embody my thoughts in verse. Should they be of any service to you or your numerous parent readers, I present them to you and them with the hope of a blessing attending them. TO MY INFANT DAUGHTER SLEEPING. "Born in sin."-Psalms. Calm thy countenance, my infant, 166 TO MY INFANT DAUGHTER SLEEPING. Tranquil as the summer's evening, Shall it last? Ah! will those eye-lids "Tis a fallen world, my precious, Sad that such a sweet external But, sweet thought! there is a fountain Jesus' blood is efficacious For the guiltiest sinner e'en; There mayst thou be washed, my infant, Newport, I. W., June 5, 1853. A. M. |