« AnteriorContinuar »
THE MERCHANT'S CLERR.
been absent the clerks had freely indulged in conversaCHAPTER IV,
tion, and paid little attention to the mild shrill voice of
little Mr. Dawson. They had sometimes gathered in social When Mr. Maxwell took his departure, we went on to the groups before the fire. But when Mr. Brekelman came counting-house, and there Mr. Arnold introduced me to back, and resumed his most elevated seat before the most his clerks, and particularly commended me to a little elevated desk, the clicking of the clock might be heard sharp-featured man, who I soon found was a person of for hours during the awful silence, interrupted only by some importance. Mr. Dawson had been an inmate of the visits of persons on business, whom he always disthat counting-house between twenty and thirty years, and missed with as few words as possible. No intimate ashe had gradually become a most serviceable friend to his sociate, from a neighbouring office, then sauntered in, employers. His knowledge of mercantile concerns always and lounged about the desk of any one of the clerks, reappeared to me quite wonderful, though he possessed counting, in an undervoice, the adventures of the past none of the talent necessary for a director.
evening, while many a pen was suspended, and many a Mr. Dawson was then perhaps about five and forty head stretched eagerly forward to hear what had occurred. years of age; the other clerks were generally much No newspaper was carelessly taken up, and conned over younger; one was a mere lad, like myself. I sat very with a feeling of increasing interest, till the day-book or stiff and quiet on my high stool, referring every now and the ledger were forgotten. All was carried on in exact then to Mr. Dawson for instructions, and the first day and silent regularity, and if a person quitted his desk, and passed without any incident worth mentioning. I felt whispered to another, the whisper was generally audible very strange, and stared and gaped with astonishment enough to convey some such sense as
" When did we when I accompanied my new acquaintance, Mr. Dawson, last receive advices from Foster's house?” “ What sum to the Bank, and the India House, and many other houses was paid into Price, Lloyd, and Co's.” If a person and offices; and I took off my hat, and made a low chanced to raise his head, he was sure to find the stern bow, which nobody noticed, when I entered or quitted countenance of old Mr. Brekelman raised at the same any office with him.
moment, with his large owl-eyes scowling beneath his The next day Mr. Arnold begged Mr. Dawson to frowning brows, or to hear his loud harsh voice suddenly look out for a lodging for me in the neighbourhood calling out, “ Any thing you wish to know, Saar? You where he resided. And I soon after heard that a Mrs. had better look to your books, Saar.” Mr. Brekelman Thompson, a widow lady, whose house commanded a was remarkably tall and thin; but being large-boned, view of Kennington Common, then a green and airy and large-featured, there was a strange sort of gauntness spot, had consented to receive me as a sort of boarder about his whole appearance: he dressed in the old style, into her family. Mr. Arnold, however, declared that I with knee and shoe buckles, and ruffles at his wrists. Í should remain as his guest till after Christmas.
have often beard him abused for his formal and unrelaxI have little to relate of the few weeks which passed ing strictness; but he was so consistent in his conduct, during my stay in - Lane.
Lane. I became better ac- and sometimes, though but seldom, he betrayed so much quainted with the clerks. I saw more of London. My real, hearty benevolence from beneath the ice of his exhand-writing improved. Mrs. Arnold and her daughters terior surface, that he commanded the respect of those called me by my christian name. I received a long
who knew him. He took little notice of me, except by letter from
my dear mother, and a very few lines from my telling me, when first we met, that he remembered my aunt. I wrote also to them the longest letter I had ever aunt when she was a blooming girl. But he looked as written.
awfully severe on me, as on any of his clerks, whenever It was about the beginning of December that the I was noisy or inattentive in his presence. partner of Mr. Arnold, who had been, on some affairs of I am sorry to say that the kindness I met with from consequence to the house, to Holland, returned home. my new friends had a bad effect on me.
I became most Mr. Ernst Von Brekelman, or as he was called in insufferably opinionated and self-conceited. I put down England Mr. Brekelman, was by birth a German, and the kindness and attention which I received as a homage had passed the first years of his life at Frankfort on the payed to my own deserts. I talked incessantly when in Maine, his native place. At the
of fifteen, he came the presence of Mrs. Arnold and her daughters, and to England, and was received into the house of Mr. talked on subjects which could not interest them. I Arnold's father. He wrote in the counting-house as a might have seen that my conversation wearied my hearers, clerk for three years, and then returned to Frankfort. for Mrs. Arnold and Susan generally replied in monoHis father had been long a friend and correspondent with syllables, though with their usual sweetness of manner; the firm of Arnold and Co., and both parties were well while Julia paid no attention whatever to me, but took pleased, when, after an absence of ten years, Mr. Ernst up a book, and sometimes turned entirely away from me. again visited England, and declared himself the suitor of The irregular habits of Julia continued, and Mr. Arnold Miss Henrietta Arnold. The marriage was celebrated often gave us lectures on the importance of regularity, within two months afterwards, and the firm of Arnold and I, who happened to be an early riser, used to look up and Co. was soon changed to that of Arnold, Brekelman, to him as he
spoke with a feeling of great self-satisfaction. and Co. Mrs. Brekelman died about a year after her Sometimes I ventured a remark on the same subject, marriage, but her husband still remained in England, declared my conviction that nothing could be done withand devoted himself most unremittingly to business. He out regularity, described to Mrs. Arnold the regular habits was the sternest and the strictest man I ever met with. of my aunt's household-in fact, I interfered when it I saw that from the day of his return, the counting-house would have become me to have attended to myself. I saw became an altered place. Whenever Mr. Arnold had that when I was speaking Julia often laughed to herself, or stared on me with rather a contemptuous astonish- listen to him, Susan, surprises me, but how you and ment; and her manner soon lost much of its warmth mamma can answer him is perfectly astonishing! Oh, and friendliness towards me. On many other occasions Thomas,” she cried out, but she could scarcely conI was equally impertinent.
tinue speaking, for her voice seemed kept down by My vanity, however, was soon well humbled. Thomas irrepressible laughter, “Oh, my dear Thomas, if you Arnold, the eldest son of my friends, came home. He could have seen him to day, poor vain ereature, as he had been many years at Eton, and was to go to Cam- stood beside, or rather a little behind you, before the bridge the following autumn. He seemed to be a large looking-glass between the windows. I saw such favourite with every one in the house, and his return a smile of self-satisfied admiration pass over his broad was hailed with ove general feeling of delight.
face as he seemed to compare himself with you. He We were sitting in the drawingroom when a loud patted his sleek hair so fondly on each side of his head, knock was heard at the door, every one rose, for it was and drew up his chin from his tight throttling neckthe day and the hour that Thomas Arnold was expected. cloth, and looked down with a sort of restless glancing The two girls rushed out of the room. Mrs. Arnold over his whole person, as if he could scarcely believe threw down her work, and Mr. Arnold put down the that the glass was a faithful mirror to such a charming newspaper, and walked to the window. We soon dis. figure. And then he turned on his heel, with that tinguished the bounding tread of some one ascending little, vulgar, careless half-whistle. I'm glad he did not the stairs, and the glad voices of Julia and Susan wel. meet my countenance when he turned, for I could not coming their brother. In another inoment Thomas have restrained a peal of laughter." Arnold entered with his two delighted sisters clinging “ Poor fellow," I heard Susan say, “how can you to each of his arıns. He kissed his mother fondly, and abuse him so ? He will grow out of these little faults. even pressed his lips to the cheek of his father. All I'ın sure he will. Really, Julia, I must tell you that this time I stood unnoticed, till Susan observed me, you are excessively rude to him.” and immediately led her brother towards me. He “Oh, I don't care,” said she, in a laughing reckless shook hands with me very heartily, and talked for a voice, "I wish him to see that I don't particularly adfew moments with hearty good nature to me. Then mire his ways. Then his insolence at breakfast -- how he turned round again to his sisters and to his parents,
he chimes in with
and looks upon me with such and seemed as if he had entirely forgotten that I was conscious superiority, because he is always down early in the room.
I now and then offered a few words in with his shining morning face." my new, presumptuous style of conversation, but now “Pray don't speak so loudly, Julia," said Susan, even the gentle and wellbred Susan stared at me, as “or rather drop this subject. I never heard you speak if she had not heard a word I spoke, and was soon 80 ill-naturedly of any orie.” called back, even in looks, to attend only to the lively
“I should like him to hear me," replied Julia, still questions of her brother.
more loudly," he wants a little humbling.” The easy and good-humoured manner of Thomas “But you would not hurt his or any one's feelings, Arnold soon drew me to the same self-conceited fa. would you, Julia?" miliarity with him as with the rest of his family. My Feelings ! don't fear, his feelings are not so easily good opinion of myself, my outward self especially, wounded, they are well covered by a shield of selfnow received a check. I came up one Wednesday conceit; one must pierce that first, which would be no afternoon into the drawing-room, and finding no one
very easy work, to there, took up a book, and sat down near the window to “Do stop, Julia,” exclaimed her brother, "you read as long as I could by the dusky light. The door, are now getting unjust, very unjust, as well as unkind; leading from the room where I sat into another sitting- poor fellow, I dare say his feelings are delicate enough; room, was open, and I soon heard by their voices that one might soon find out that, he has such a way of Thomas Arnold and his sisters were there. But my colouring up: To tell you the truth, Miss Julia, I book was a volume of the Arabian Nights, and I did don't quite admire your way of abusing a person behind not care to leave the adventures of Aladdin. The dull his back, it's not like you, Julia. You were always light, however, grew more and more dull, and as my violent in your likes and dislikes, but I never remember eyesight failed me, I suppose my sense of hearing be- this new accomplishment of your's—this scandal talkcame more acute. My own name first caught my at- ing. It is beneath you, Julia.” tention. I did not wish to listen. I was just going to Julia replied loudly, and in anger to her brother ; give notice of my near presence by a loud cough, when but I heard again Susan's sweet, beseeching voice, and some words, spoken more loudly, stopped my cough, or when Julia spoke again, her voice faltered, she conrather turned it into a gape of surprise—“Oh, don't fessed herself wrong, she spoke kindly about me, nay, tell me,” said Julia, with an indignant voice, “his self- the whole tide of her feelings towards me seemed to conceit is intolerable! Yes, he was very well when he have been turned, for as she continued speaking, I felt first came.
I liked him, because his manner was so the tears rush into my eyes, and I loved her the better natural. Good natured! Oh, yes! and what should for the lesson I had received, it now tanght me, as all make him otherwise ? But he always seems best rebukes should teach, making me feel the truth of the pleased with himself. How he does talk-prose, I words, without being offended by the speaker. The should say! He goes on and on, never tired with the two girls went up, stairs together, and Thomas also left same dull subject-self—When I was there! when I the room, but as they did not pass through the drawing, said so! when I was asked! always I!! How you can room, I was not discoyered. In a few minutes after I
rose up, and treading lightly on the thickly carpetted such a middle region, as the one we at present occupy, staircase, I stole to my own room.
where the creature enjoys himself amid the gifts, and I first met Julia again in the diningroom, and the cares not for the Giver, cannot long be tolerated. He moment she saw me, she said with an air of charming is an anomaly on the face of creation, and will as such frankness, “ You must shake hands with me, John, and be swept away." forgive me, for though you did not hear me, I have been abusing you in a very
The Storm, or the Father and Daughter. very sorry for it.”
I could not resist, when I next stood near a large Tue gale increased the storm howled awfully around looking-glass with Thomas, I could not resist judging -the sea ran mountains high--the wind blew in hurwhat truth there was in the remark of Julia. My ricanes, and when the day dawned after that fearful vision seemed to have undergone a change, for I no night, the tempest still raged with unabated fury--the longer thought my style of dress so superior, but I am roaring waves still curled “their monstrous heads," sorry to say that my vanity was rather turned into a and dashed against the isolated rock, on which stood new channel than humbled. I was convinced that tny one of those numerous Lighthouses erected on the appearance was not fashionable, but I was not convinced dangerous parts of the coast of Great Britain. This that my outward appearance ought to have been of Lighthouse was occupied by an aged man and his inferior consideration to me. I became more anxious daughter. than I had ever been about my dress, and I did not The old man had hitherto scarcely known what it feel well satisfied with myself till I had entirely, though was to fear, but during that dark tempestuous night he gradually, substituted the most fashionable apparel for had not closed his eyes, and as soon as morning dawned, the blue coat, waistcoat, and trowsers, the black silk he hastened to the window of the upper story of the handkerchief, and the laced high-low shoes, which I
Tower. His daughter was already there gazing had been accustomed to wear.
so intently towards a rock at some distance from the But while I grew thus attentive to my outward ap- Lighthouse, that she scarcely noticed her father's enpearance, I neglected more and more the state of my trance. “It is an awful storm," said the old man. inward self. The Bible, my mother had given me, lay She answered not, but continued gazing with fixed unopened week after week. My prayers, which and earnest attention. “ Yes,” she exclaimed at last, had never been very long or very earnest, were always “I am not mistaken, it is surely a wreck which I see hurried through, and very often neglected altogether. on the Black Rock.” “Poor souls ! poor souls !” said God forbid that I should sit in judgment upon others, the old man. “Yes, I see plain enough the forepart or condemn any one but myself, but I sometimes look of a vessel fast on the rock.” They said no more, but back to the habits of Mr. Arnold's family, at that time, stood gazing in deep and solemn silence. and grieve over the apparent forgetfulness of God, the The high waves rolled, and dashed. The wildfowl, apparent inattention to every thing like religion among disturbed from their resting places, mingled their them, and I do not wonder that I thought and cared so screams with the noise of the angry elements; and the little about the matter. They were upright, honour- wind-the awful wind seemed to increase its dismal able ; to all appearance strictly moral; kind and roarings. Who that were here could for a moment pleasing in their manners, and it seemed to me, that question the terrible majesty of Him who “rides in they could be all this without religious principles, or the whirlwind, and directs the storm ?” Are there any acknowledgement of God. I do not say that I any such? that man, and his daughter, were not reasoned thus, for I was not conscious of any reasoning of these, if any such there be. They knew full well about the thing. I do not say that they did not live to who it is that commandeth, and raiseth the stormy God in secret, for I have had good reasons since to wind, and lifteth up the waves of the sea ;" and as they believe that in a way they did ; but religion was stood gazing on the foaming ocean, the silent breath among them like something they were ashamed of. of prayer went up to Him who can
« make the storm The family never once, that I remember, met together, a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.” children, servants and all, to ask for pardon, as repentant Father, dear father," exclaimed the startled sinners,
or to pray for God's help, or God's blessing maiden after a long pause, “I thought I heard a through the Saviour who died for them. I know that piercing shriek.” “The screams of the wildfowl dereligion is not according to the new fashion of the pre- ceived you,” answered the old man. They listened sent day, talking about religion, or even knowing about again, and cries for help were distinctly audible amid religion ; but it is not only a reasonable duty of the the roar of the tempestuous billows.
No, no, no; creature, but it is according to the positive command of those are not the screams of the wildfowl,” she said, God, that His children should unite together in the great "they are the cries of human beings in distress.” “Ay, congregation, or in the gathering together of even two sure enough, it is even so," answered the old man. or three, from the highest to the lowest, from the “ And, oh, father,” she continued, “I see the poor eldest to the youngest of the family, with confession, creatures clinging to the wreck; and, hark ! again you and with prayer and praise, to seek His presence as a hear the cry of horror. My poor fellowcreatures," God of grace, who is always present with them as a added the tender and gallant female, “your cries are God of providence. But, alas ! such is the way of the either unheard, nor unregarded, we will do what we natural man, and to use the words of a great living can to help you.” “My child,” said the father, writer, “Nature is in a state of exile from God, and grasping hold of his daughter's arm as she was prepar
them. But there was no time to be lost ; nine lives were to be saved, and the little skiff must perform three or four voyages to secure them all. By a desperate and an extraordinary effort the father was landed on the rock, while the boat, in danger of being dashed to pieces, was rapidly rowed back by his daughter, who placed her passengers safely in the Lighthouse, and returned with all speed to the rescue of the remaining sufferers. At length the whole were taken from the wreck.
The daughter for the last time contended with the storm, and the lower apartment of the Lighthouse was now well nigh filled with the grateful beings whose lives had been thus wonderfully preserved. The father stood beside his noble child on the very 'spot where they had both knelt down in prayer before commencing their dangerous undertaking.
“And now, dear friends," said the young woman,"we must not rob God of His glory. We must not forget that my dear father and myself have after all been only instruments in the hards of the Almighty for your preservation. Let them give thanks, Oh Lord, whom thou hast preserved," she continued, as she once more bowed down in prayer, and offered up her solemn and grateful praises to the God of winds and sea. Her companions followed her example, and knelt around her, and it might be said of the nine who were saved not one refused to give glory to God. The Lord “put a new song in their mouth, even praise unto their God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord.”
M. P. H.
ing to depart, “ It must not be; to attempt to reach that wreck is to rush on certain death."
“All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,” was the command which occurred to the mind of the daughter.
She repeated the blessed words aloud, and as she kissed her aged parent's cheek, she added in the most gentle and respectful tone, “Father, my own dear father, if we had been thrown this night upon that dreary rock, and had held clinging to the wreck of our vessel, expecting every moment to be swept away by the waters which surrounded it, should we not cast a longing, ay, and an imploring eye towards this friendly Lighthouse? Should we not desire and expect that its inmates would at least make an effort to save us ? And should we not do unto others as we would they should do unto us? And then, dear father,” she continued, finding that the old man remained silent, and thoughtful, “ remember that the voice which spoke those gracious words was the same all-powerful voice that said to the stormy sea, • Peace, be still;' and there was a great calm; and surely our good and gracious Captain will not refuse to guide us while we are seeking to obey His own command. May we not take up the words of your own favourite hymn and say, *Begone, unbelief, our Saviour is near, And for our relief will surely appear; In prayer let us wrestle, and He will perform; With Cbrist in the vessel we smile at the storm.' “Well, well, the will of the Lord be done. If we perish, we perish. The floods lift up their waves, but the Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.”
Thus spoke the old man, and thus answered his fearless child
“ The floods, O Lord, lift up their voice,
And make the angry sea comply." They hastily descended the narrow staircase, and seizing the oars, were about to enter the little boat. Both of them paused, and both at the same instant knelt down in fervent supplication to Him at whose command the winds blow, and who alone can still the
Thus prepared for life or death, they commenced their perilous voyage. Who shall say that the Christian is a coward in the hour of danger? We may rest assured it is not those who have made their peace with God that are wont to quail and tremble when death and danger draw near. At all events they will not they cannot hang back when duty calls them to go forward, and however the world may smile at and deride them in the hour of safety, that same world shall be forced, in the hour of difficulty and danger, to perceive the mighty difference there is between those who have, and those who have not, “the everlasting arms underneath” them.
The frail skiff, rowed by the father, and guided by his brave daughter, floated over the boisterous sea, and reached the Black Rock in safety. Thanks and blessings burst from the lips of those who had been clinging to life while all hope of relief had been sinking within
JOURNAL OF A DISTRICT VISITOR.
January 31, 1839.—In the course of my visits this day I entered one of those miserable and wretched human abodes (a cellar) in street, where a stranger is much at a loss in what position to hold himself, when descending the narrow, slippery, and winding steps, and where to avoid striking his forehead against the projecting wall above that narrow opening, through which he has to grope down into a dark, damp, and dreary hovel, where if he wishes to relieve himself from the stooping posture, he attempts to stand upright, he receives an unwelcome rebuff upon his head from the low ceiling, and is reminded that he had now entered the region of the poor and low
It was into one of those cellars I had now entered, and where from the darkness and smoke which filled the place, I could not distinguish an object before me. I heard, however, a voice saying, "wait a moment, Sir,” and at that instant, directing my eyes to where I thought the voice proceeded, I discovered a young woman near a fire which was just bright enough to throw its light upon her face, the expression of that face was trouble and grief. She was lighting a candle, and said, in a deep earnest voice, you shall see them in a minute;” she then raised ihe hand which held the candle, and led me to the farthest corner of the place, where the dim light just sufficiently cleared away the darkness to disclose to my view a most affecting and paralizing sight! Two aged people lay there, stretch
ed on a bed, (or rather on something to serve that pur- and heavenly be looks.” And this was not a mere pose,) on whose countevances the hand of death bad fancy of hers, for when looking at the face which I had already drawn some awful characters, though the vital lately seen disfigured with pain and approaching breath yet lingered on their lips; still, it seemed as if death, I was, indeed, struck with its calm serenity and the king of terrors in his disappointment at having been peace. I thought I could read on it, “Death where kept in so long a suspense, had with impatient revenge is thy sting? Grave where is thy victory?” I next inflicted some of those deadly marks on the old man turned to the aged woman who had not moved from and his wife, as if to announce to them his certain the spot where her husband expired, she stretched out though prolonged approach.
her feeble arm, she took hold of my hand, and said, I “ T'here ! look Sir, at my poor father and mother," shall soon follow him, good sir, he is gone to heaven.” said the devoted daughter, whilst her eyes rested first Silently, and with my heart lifted up to God, I stood on the one, and then on the other, with an expression for some minutes, looking at the widow and then at of mingled grief and joy upon her face, as if touched the daughter. Not a tear, nor any expression of sorrow with their miserable condition, and yet rejoiced that could I discover; death seemed to have changed its they were still alive. “ There,” she said, “you see name and character in that poor abode, wretched and my only comfort, they lie here like two lambs, they underground as it was, and instead of death I saw, as have lived long-very long together, and now they are if inscribed upon the living—the dying-and the dead, going to die together. To do full justice to the in- in living characters—“Gain.” teresting picture before me, to describe the expression of the countenances which were turned to me by the
CORRESPONDENCE. daughter and her dying parents, I am, indeed, unableit was an affecting sight. But, if I was greatly affected
“And the soldiers likewise demanded of him, saying, and what with the misery of the scene before me, and had cause
shall we do? And he said unto them, Do violence to no man, to lament over sin which has made such ravages in neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages." this world, so I had on the other hand, much more
Luke iii, 14. cause to rejoice when I saw how faith in Christ Jesus
Rev. Sir,- I hope you will excuse the liberty I have had overcome death, and had taken away the sting of
taken in thus adressing you, but on reading the 3rd the grave. For, blessed be God! when I entered
number of the Christian Beacon, I find it said, “The into conversation with these dying people, I found,
Christian must by no means conceal his sentiments, but that, so far from being in any ways intluenced by the
that he should hold them forth for the benefit of others; painful circnmstances surrounding them, they expressed
whether my sentiments will be of any good to others, their inward joy and peace in such a manner, as left no doubt on my mind that they were resting in the
God only knows, may his blessing rest upon what I
write, poor, feeble, and simple as it may be. arms of the blessed Saviour, who had sent the Comforter into their hearts, which gave them that peace
A few Sundays ago being at St. Peter's Church, I was
very much struck with one verse of the second lesson, so which this world could neither give nor take from much so that I could not for the life of me pay any atthem. They appeared to me like those travellers, who
tention to the remainder of the service. I went home and tell us, that when they ascended the summit of a high
read that verse over and over several times the next day, mountain, they have seen the clouds rolling beneath
it was still the same, I could not forget it
. I took the Bible them, and while surrounded with the clear atmosphere, and read those words over and over again, and still I did and the bright sunshine, they have felt as if belonging the same for several days. At last I applied it to my self to another world. In all their answers to my questions, with prayer to God to enlighten my understanding, and there I was reminded of the Apostle's words,
shew me why I should be so uneasy about it, the verse is to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Never did I see the to be found in the 3rd Chapter of Luke, it is the 14th infirmities of old age more supported by that living
“ And the soldiers likewise demanded of him, saySpirit within as in the case before me, and though the ing, and what shall we do, and he said unto them, do aged man was at the moment I spoke to him suffering violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely, and be great pain, yet it disturbed not the serenity and content with your wages.” heavenly comfort which the mention of his Saviour Now, Sir, as to violence I thought I never had to my seemed to bring to his soul. Oh! how vain, how recollection done violence to any man, so I said to myself, lighter than vanity itself, the world appeared at that
that part of the verse cannot be the cause of its weighing moment! and how welcome a friend seemed death!
so heavily on my mind. I applied the next parts, neither Blessed Father! may my last moments be like theirs ! accuse any falsely: this like the other part I could not re. As I prayed by them they clasped my hands, and when member to have done; but when I came to apply the next I attempted to rise from my kness, it was with some part, and to consider a little about being content with my difficulty that I extracted my hands, they bathed them wages, I could very well remember the time when I should with their tears, and thus endeavoured to express their not have been content, if I had had ten times as much as joy and gratitude.
I now have. Thus, Sir, my eyes began to be partly opened. On the following day when I revisited the cellar, I went on to consider how was it that I had been so disthe spirit of the old man had departed; he had passed contented. It was because I had been used to neglect the from time to eternity,—from earth to heaven. His principal part of a soldier's duty, that which all soldiers daughter led me up to the corpse of her beloved father, should consider deeply, the duty they owe to God,--this and with an exulting smile she said, “ See how sweet it was which I had long neglected,—this was the cause of
« For us