rate eagerness of a drowning man, who catches at every chance
of safety. It was her mother's Bible, and along the margin were
delicate pencil tracings, pointing to many precious passages. How
eagerly she read them over! and when she was too weary herself, she
gave the book into her husband's hand. Still he could give her no
advice in her spiritual distress, and looked upon it with compassion
as the result of her disease. He gave her the tenderest worldly
consolation, but it brought no peace to her anxious soul. Was there no
one to offer a word of true counsel? From a very humble source came
the advice she so much needed. The kind nurse, Margaret, whom little
Bertie had loved next to his parents, was an earnest, humble
Christian. It was from her lips he had learned to lisp his morning and
evening prayer, and her low, gentle voice that told him over and over
the sweet story he never tired of hearing--the story of the Babe of
Bethlehem.
Plainly and simply she pointed Clara's mind to the Lamb of God as the
only Saviour, praying hourly in her heart that God would bring home
the truth with power to her.
At length a little light broke in upon her mind. "It may be he will
receive even such a wandering sheep as I," she said, "oh, I will cast
myself upon his mercy only, for I can do nothing to make myself
better!"
The thin hands were folded over the Bible, the eyes closed wearily, a
faint motion of the lips told of the silent prayer her heart was
offering, as gently she breathed her life away.
A few months later Mr. Allen became a wanderer in many lands.
Do you ever sigh and disquiet your heart, Christian pilgrim, because
God has not given you wealth and worldly ease? Remember the words of
One who never gave a needless caution nor spoke an untruthful
word--"How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom
of heaven!"
It is a dangerous step indeed for a young heart to form a life-long
union with one who is a stranger to its hopes of heaven. "Be ye not
unequally yoked together with unbelievers," is a command which may not
be lightly broken. Where all of this world, and very probably the
world to come, are at stake, the cost should be well counted. "What
shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own
soul?" Even the most devoted affection the world can bestow will be no
substitute for God's loving favor. "What shall a man give in exchange
for his soul?"
"Jesus, my all in all tho
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