sought to touch before ; she felt that she had friends
here, and friends in the watchful angels, and a friend im
our Father in Heaven. More hallowed sympathies were
gently aroused â€” a more soothing sadness breathed over
her spirit. Tears coursed slowly and silently down her
pale face. With a gush of feeling, Catharine leaned
forward, and folded her arms around her slender form,
^90 " KEE1>
as if that might protect her from sorrow. She pressed
her lips upon her forehead, and her own warm, kind
tears fell, and mingled with those of the invalid. The
hope she had expressed to Louisa had come to pass. In
that lonely bosom, she had awakened to a sad yet sweet
music the string that could vibrate to hopes higher than
those of earth. When morning bathed all in its welcome
light, did that young girl regret her act of self-denial ?
Let those who have had a similar experience answer.
To change the whole current of our thoughts and feel-
ings is not the work of a moment, yet there must be a
time when that work must commence. With Mrs,
Belcher it had just begun ; and through the influence of
Catharine and Louisa she became, in time, not brilliant
nor gifted, but what all may become, gentle, upright,
"KEEP THYSELF PURE."
Be thou pure before the morning,
Pure before the eye of day ;
Pure when glo^ving glances meet thee,
And when eyes are turned away :
Through the glory, through the shadow.
Let them he alike to thee ;
Ever pressing onward, upward,
In the strength of purity ;
N'ot alone in light endure,
Through the darkness keep thee pure
" KEEP THYSELF PURE/'
Gentle-hearted friends anear us,
Make the path of duty sweet ;
Ah ! how softly walk we onward,
"When the loving guide our feet.
That must be a little sorrow.
Which is shared as soon as known,
For it draws the heart we lean on
Closer â€” closer to our own :
Can it be a bitter thing,
AVhen such balm is in its sting ?
But a sorrow may come nigh thee
In a time of loneliness ;
When thy soul is drooping â€” faintingâ€”
And no love is there to bless ;
Friendless â€” desolate â€” deserted â€”
Can ye bear the aching thrill ?
Will thy heart keep on its pureness,
Meek, and true, and trusting still ?
Ah ! 'tis then we learn the need,
Of a changeless love indeed.
Not for earth â€” or earth's applauses,
Not for glory, or for gain,
But for Heaven's high approval,
Cleanse thy bosom from its stain :
When no eye or ear can heed thee.
Deep within thy heart of hearts ;
For thy God in love is seeking
" Truth in all the inward parts ;"
And thy hope is very sure,
If thy soul be true and pure.
" THE ANGELS WITH US UNAWARES."
"Dear mamma, I love you," says the baby-boy,
clasping his white arms lovingly about her neck, and
receiving her kiss in return. Helpless little creature !
It will be long indeed, ere he will realize a mother's
self-denying tenderness, her anxiety about his future,
her pain when he suffers, her regret when he does
wrong, and her happiness when he does well.
She does not tell him now, that with aching head and
weary fingers, she has watched him through long days
and nights of illness, when death seemed hovering ov^r
his pillow, ready to snatch him away, if even for one
moment she forgot her charge ; and with what agonizing
earnestness she prayed, " ! Father, spare him, if con-
sistent with Thy will !"
She does not tell him now, for he is too young to com-
prehend, even in a measure, the height and breadth and
depth of maternal love.
He only knows her bosom is his pillow, her arms his
shield, and that from her hands his hourly wants are
But if it comes to be his lot to gaze upon her sweet
face, cold in the drapery of death, to miss her smile,
and long in vain for her caress ; then, when others part
his silken hair, without the accustomed kiss ; when
Others take him coldly by the hand, and lead him to his
"the angels with us unawares." 293
cradle-bed, and hear his infant prayer, as a mere act of
duty; then, while their careless "good-night" is still
chiming in his ears as a bitter mockery ; then he will
fling out his tiny arms, and clasp the empty air in search
of that soft hand which lingered so lovingly about his
pillow, and realize that ''an angel" has been with him
"Thank you, father!" says the young girl, bounding
away with her hand clasped upon the means with which
to purchase some elegant article of dress, forgetting in
her wild happiness how much she is already indebted to
him. Little does she realize the toil and anxieties of
that noble-hearted man, standing up as a tower of de-
fence between his helpless ones, and the rude, jostling
crowd, and baring his own broad breast to all life's
pelting storms, content if he can but shelter them.
" My daughter." There is a meaning in those words
whose depths she will never fathom until another sen-
tence falls like ice upon her ear, and freezes the blood
in her veins : " He is dead !"
Then, when she misses his kindly greeting, when he
no longer fills her pleading hand ; when she would turn
back from the cold friendships of the world, sick at heart
for the love she has wasted upon the ungrateful ; then,
when there is no fond, paternal bosom, to which she may
fly in her day of adversity, she will realize â€” ! how
bitterly! â€” that "an angel" has been with her "una-
"Would I had now a father!" bursts from her quiver-
ing lips, as she remembers all his goodness; and she
nerves herself anew for the stern conflict of life.
"My brother I" The fraternal tie may he looscnod
by unkindness, or remembered lightly, as in different
paths we go out into the world, each struggling for indi-
vidual success ; but there are times when that word calls
up a gush of tenderness, as we look back to youth's
halcyon hours, when we walked hand in hand with him,
who held us by an earnest clasp, and whose kiss was
unpolluted by flattery or selfishness.
We may have thought hardly of that brother, but if
the stranger dares to whisper aught against his name
how the indignant blood tingles in our veins â€” stranger,
He lies low in the churchyard. We cover his faults
with the mantle of charity, and comparing his love of
long-ago with the world's fictitious friendships, say his
errors were of the head rather than the heart ; he wa>s,
indeed, as "an angel unawares."
The husband goes before the wife, smoothing the rough
places and pushing aside the thorns from her path ; ho
shields her from the stare of impertinence, and blunts
the edge of every pain and grief by those soft, balmy
utterances, known only in the vocabulary of affection ;
and she leans upon his strong arm, unaware of all his
self-denial for her sake.
But when that strong arm is palsied in death, when
the eyes which beamed on her so lovingly are closed
for ever, and the lips which never chided her are pale
and mute â€” then she realizes his worth as she never
could before and gazes with tearful earnestness into the
blue abyss, as if to arrest those "lessening win.gs" in
their upward flight, and whisper in the ear of the de-
'â€¢Till: ANG'r-L.- WITH U!^ UNAWARES. 2Ui)
parted the thankfulness, which until now had found lio
The wife ! There is no treachery there â€” no deceit.
How her smile of welcome dissipates the cloud of care
which has clung to her husband's brow all day ! How
softly she parts away the toil-dampened locks from his
temples, and kisses away their last lingering throb of
The heart, man knows, is all his own â€” is to him a
priceless gem ; but never until those orbs, which turn to
his with love and reverence, are hidden away in the
gloom of the narrow house, does he appreciate as he
should the presence of her who was sent of heaven â€” " an
That friend â€” a creature of blended weaknesses and
virtues â€” not all selfishness, not all disinterestedness ;
but the pressure of his hand is earnest, his smile is not
a lie. You have trusted him, and he has not betrayed
you. You have gone to him in the hour of trial, and
he has advised you for your best good. He has spoken
your name with respect, and cheered you with words of
hope when your heart was faint almost unto death ; in
him you have a priceless treasure. Well may you bow
your head and weep if he has fallen before you in the
battle of life ; for there will be times in the future when
you will yearn to lay your head upon his shoulder, and
pour into his sympathetic ear your tale of wrongs and
griefs ; and then will come again the consciousness that
he has pass-ed away, and, God help you ! you search in
vain through life for his living counterpart.
There are " angels with us unawares" in all the rela-
28^6 SABBATH EVE.
tions of life, but, alas for our stupidity ! we seldom
realize their presence until we " see" their " white winga
lessening up the skies."
In beauty sinks the parting sun,
As evening shades appear,
And beauteous as dreams of heaven.
The nightly train draws near.
Bright earth, with all her glorious thing?,
Sleeps calmly ^neath the spirit's wings,
Eeflecting back bright hues above,
Rejoicing in a flood of love.
The blue isles of the boundless deep.
The heaven's blue arch on high, â€”
The flowers that gaze upon the skies â€”
The bright streams flowing by
Are teeming with religion â€” deep
O'er earth and sea its glories sleep,
And mingle with the starry rays.
Like the soft light of parted days.
The heart is filled with glorious thoughts,
With transport beating wild.
As thought ascends up to the shrine
Of glory undefiled.
And holy breathings from the heart.
Like blessed angels ever start.
And bind â€” for earth's fond ties are rivenâ€”
Our spirits to the gates pf heaveUf
Knowledge is power ! And this power every young
man who makes a good use of his spare moments may
obtain. These spare moments accumuhxte into hours
every day, and the further aggregate makes days and
weeks in each year â€” days and weeks that might be
devoted to an earnest and successful improvement of
the mind. "VVe introduce with these few words the fol-
lowing sketch :
A lean, awkward boy came one morning to the door
of the principal of a celebrated school, and asked to see
him. The servant eyed his mean clothes, and thinking
he looked more like a beggar than anything else, told
him to go around to the kitchen. The boy did as he
was bidden, and soon appeared at the back door.
^' I should like to see Mr. ," said he.
"You want a breakfast, more like," said the servant
girl, "and I can give you that without troubling him."
" Thank you," said the boy, " I should have no objec-
tions to a bit of bread, but I should like to see Mr. ,
if he can see me."
"Some old clothes, may be you want," remarked the
servant, again eyeing the boy patched trousers. " I
guess he has none to spare, he gives away a sight;" and
without minding the boy's request, she went away about
, '^ Can I see Mr. ?" again asked the boy, after
finishing his bread and butter.
" Well, he's in the library; if he must be disturbed he
must ; but he does like to be alone sometimes," said the
girl in a peevish tone. She seemed to think it very
foolish to admit such an ill-looking fellov/ into her mas-
ter's presence ; however, she wiped her hands, and bade
him follow. Opening the library door, she said,
" Here's somebody, sir, who is dreadful anxious to see
you, and so I let him in."
I don't know how the boy introduced himself, or how
he opened his business, but I know that after talking
awhile, the principal put aside the volume which he was
studying, and took up some Greek books and began to
examine the new comer. The examination lasted some
time. Every question which the principal asked, the
boy answered as readily as could be.
"Upon my word," exclaimed the principal, "you
certainly do well 1" looking at the boy from head to foot
over his spectacles. " Why, my boy, where did you
pick up so much?"
"i?i my spare moments,'" answered the boy.
In that answer how much was included ! Few become
either learned or eminent, who do not make a profitable
use of their spare moments; for, if these are wasted in
self-indulgence, they enervate the mind, rendering it
less efficient in its tasks when duty requires it to act. It
is generally believed that the mind gains strength, after
severe labour, by seasons of entire inactivity. There is,
we think, an error in this. More real strength, we are
sure, will be acquired by the employment of new facul-
ties, while those needing repose are permitted to rest.
THE BURDOCK AND THE VIOLET.
It came up in the garden, that burdock, just behind
the violets and close to the rose bushes. It was in the
corner close up to the fftiice, and we said we would let
it stay, and it should have all the kind care and gentle
attention that the roses and the violets had. Roadside
burdocks we knew were coarse, vile things, with their
dusty leaves and their sharp burs ever adhering to the
passers-by, and we would like to see what a garden bur-
dock would be like; whether it would be bri-ght, and
fresh, and delicate for growing in such sweet company,
and so we were merciful and let it stay.
And it grew among the roses and the violets, and
gentle hands watered it often, and the earth was softened
about its roots just as for its fairer neighbours ; but it
waited not for them in its progress upward. It shot up
rank and tall, and its wide leaves spread all abroad and
threatened to cover i/p ."irji o'oscure its less assuming
neighbours. And at idfi tiio blossoms came. They
were large and strong, and armed with keen thorns, and
the flowers changed into burs, and they reached out
their thorny fingers and grasped the passers-by, and the
white dust lay thick on the rough woolly leaves, and
the seeds flew out on the wind to seek lodging-places,
where another year a new crop should find foothold and
A little violet crept up through the fence and looked
oOO THE BURDOCK AND THE VIOLLT.
up brightly beside the hard and dusty street, and we
said, we will let it grow there, and so it grew. Water it
had none, except the celestial fountains ; care it had none,
except from sunshine and sweet dews and the kindly
glances of the passers-by ; yet there it lived and bloomed
sweetly, ''wasting its sweetness on the desert air." Its
green leaves were as green as its cherished kindred of
the flower-bed, and its blue eyes reflected as hopefully
as the blue of the summer sky.
So we said to ourselves, Outward circumstances and
mere surroundings are but little after all ; and if change
to nature comes, it must be a work deep inwrought by
othcr3 than earthly hands.
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