• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 A bright thought speedily...
 The little hero of Haarlem
 Storm at sea
 Kindness
 A brave boy
 Little children, love one...
 The sister's grave
 The little flower garden
 The feather brush
 Little pink
 The heroine of Pillau
 A genuine philanthropist
 The rain-drop and the poet
 Dialogue - Part I
 Dialogue - Part II
 Jewish song
 Dialogue - Part III
 Conclusion






Group Title: Gems gathered in haste: a new year's gift for Sunday Schools
Title: Gems gathered in haste
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001783/00001
 Material Information
Title: Gems gathered in haste a new year's gift for Sunday Schools
Physical Description: 51 p. : 16 cm. ;
Language: English
Creator: John Wilson and Son ( Printer )
Publisher: Printed by John Wilson & Son
Place of Publication: Boston (21 School Street)
Publication Date: 1851
 Subjects
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1851   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1851   ( lcsh )
Dialogues -- 1851   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' paper bindings (Binding) -- 1851   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Dialogues   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' paper bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
 Notes
General Note: Yellow paper wrappers.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001783
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002250672
oclc - 45605988
notis - ALK2420

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Title Page
        Page 1
    Dedication
        Page 2
    A bright thought speedily executed
        Page 3
        Page 4
    The little hero of Haarlem
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Storm at sea
        Page 9
    Kindness
        Page 10
        Page 11
    A brave boy
        Page 12
    Little children, love one another
        Page 13
    The sister's grave
        Page 14
        Page 15
    The little flower garden
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
    The feather brush
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    Little pink
        Page 25
    The heroine of Pillau
        Page 26
        Page 27
    A genuine philanthropist
        Page 28
    The rain-drop and the poet
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
    Dialogue - Part I
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
    Dialogue - Part II
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    Jewish song
        Page 42
    Dialogue - Part III
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
    Conclusion
        Page 51
Full Text



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G(ATIIERED IN HASTE:


NEW YEAR'S


GIFT


FOIL


SUNDAY SCHOOLS.


BOSTON:

PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON & SON.
21, SCHOOL STREET.
1851.


1: E -7










GATHERED IN HASTE:



A


NEW YEAR'S GIFT


FOR


SUNDAY SCHOOLS.


BOSTON:

PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON & SON,
21, SCHOOL STREET.
1851.
























Meofcate' ,

AS A LABOR OF LOVE,


TO FOUR SUNDAY SCHOOLS,

EACH OF WHICH WILL KNOW THAT IT IS ONE OF THE FOUR,

BY THE INITIALS OF

THEIR FRIEND,

T. B. F.














A BRIGHT THOUGHT SPEEDILY

EXECUTED.


IT is an excellent rule, no doubt, children, not to be in a hurry;
and the proverbs, Take time by the forelock and The more
haste the worse speed," are wise proverbs, worth keeping. But
occasions occur, once in a while, when working hastily is a
great deal better than not working at all, and may be working to
some purpose too. I remember a case of this kind. In a certain
town, on the forenoon of July 3, 183-, when Floral Processions "
were novel affairs, a company of ladies and gentlemen were assem-
bled in a barn-chamber, finishing off and packing up a lot of moss
baskets, and arranging bunches of flowers to be sent to Boston, to
the Warren-street Chapel, by the mail coach at 3 o'clock, P. M. It
was about 10 o'clock when one of the party, suppose we call him,
for convenience just now, Mr. Perseverance, who had been look-
ing out of the window, down upon a very little garden, suddenly
turned round, and exclaimed that something might be made prettier
than any thing they had yet done. He told what it was. It is
impossible to do it now. We must wait till next year," said his
friends. Nothing like trying: a bird in the hand is worth two in
the bush. No time like the present," replied Mr. Perseverance, a
pertinacious gentleman, who wanted to strike when the iron was
hot," and carry out his notion without delay. Accordingly, he
caught up two sticks, and nailed them together, so as to get the right
shape. Then he went down town, the town being small, he had
not far to go, -begged at the bookstore a few show-bills," con-
taining the letters he needed for patterns; bought a sheet of gold
paper and half an ounce of gum-arabic, twice as much of both as
he really wanted; people in a hurry are not apt to calculate very
nicely, or be very economical, you know. He carried his articles
back to the barn, and asked a lady to try to cut out a motto he
had selected, and gum it on a ribbon. "But where shall I get
the ribbon?" said the lady. "Oh! find it somewhere," said Mr.
Perseverance; "and be sure and have all ready when I return."
There was one spot in the woods he remembered visiting months
before with a boy in his neighborhood, on which grew another










4 A BRIGHT THOUGHT, ETC.

material, indispensable to his project. He found the lad: they
jumped into a chaise; rode two or three miles to a grove; and, on
searching a few moments, found what they were after, a plant
green in mid-winter as well as in summer, and prized by everybody
who loves Christmas; gathered a bushel of it, more or less; and
got home again before dinner. Meanwhile, the lady, with others to
help her, had been busy; and all were wide awake now, entering
into the spirit of the matter, thinking that the bright idea of Mr.
Perseverance might possibly be accomplished in season. A splendid
bunch of pure white lilies, not quite open, was fastened to the
longest stick, the stems covered with wet paper or moss; then both
pieces of wood were wound round with thick and rich evergreen,
leaving the glorious flowers standing out gracefully, and white as
the new-fallen snow. Next came the motto, in golden letters, on a
broad white satin ribbon, which Mrs. Perseverance had found: it
was the belt of her bridal dress, carefully preserved for several
years, and now devoted to a good cause. The "emblem was con-
pleted and packed just in time for the coach. "And what was it ? "
An evergreen cross, with the lilies at the centre; the ribbon hang-
ing as a festoon from the arms, and bearing the words -
Consider the Lilies!"
On reaching the city, it was much admired, and attracted a good
many eyes in the show the next day. I believe there has hardly
been a "Floral Procession" since, without a similar device; and
among the banners used at the Warren-street Chapel, is a bright
one of silk, which has on it the cross and the lilies finely painted.
Now, let me tell you why I have sketched this incident as an
introduction to the following pages. On the 24th of December,
1850, a letter came to me from a friend, asking if I was preparing a
tract, as in former days, for a New Year's Gift, or if I could help
him, his brother and sister teachers, in selecting some fit and
cheap book for all the two hundred children they love to meet every
Sunday. At first, I only thought of answering that I was sorry to
say he must look to somebody else for what was wanted. But
I did not quite like to do this; and, presently remembering the
achievement of Mr. Perseverance, I said to myself, if he got that
cross made in a few hours, why cannot a tract be made in a few
days? I consulted the printer, and he agreed to do all he could.
So we went to work immediately, and here are the "GEMs
GATHERED IN BASTE."














(gemn flatietre r in 3afitt.




To show how great evils may be prevented by a little care, and
how much good a child may do, let me begin with the story of

THE LITTLE HERO OF HAARLEM.

AT an early period in the history of Holland, a
boy was born in Haarlem, a town remarkable
for its variety of fortune in war, but happily
still more so for its manufactures and inventions
in peace. His father was a sluicer, that is,
one whose employment it was to open and shut
the sluices, or large oak-gates, which, placed at
certain regular distances, close the entrance of
the canals, and secure Holland from the danger
to which it seems exposed, of finding itself
under water, rather than above it. When
water is wanted, the sluicer raises the sluices
more or less, as required, as a cook turns the
cock of a fountain, and closes them again care-
fully at night; otherwise the water would flow
1*


--~c~rr-' i-~1'2~ics~







6 THE LITTLE HERO OF HAARLEM.

into the canals, then overflow them, and inun-
date the whole country; so that even the little
children in Holland are fully aware of the
importance of a punctual discharge of the slui-
cer's duties. The boy was about eight years
old, when, one day, he asked permission to take
some cakes to a poor blind man, who lived at
the other side of the dyke. His father gave
him leave, but charged him not to stay too late.
The child promised, and set off on his little
journey. The blind man thankfully partook of
his young friend's cakes; and the boy, mindful
of his father's orders, did not wait, as usual, to
hear one of the old man's stories; but, as soon
as he had seen him eat one muffin, took leave of
him to return home.
As he went along by the canals, then quite
full, for it was in October, and the autumn
rains had swelled the waters, the boy now
stopped to pull the little blue flowers which his
mother loved so well; now, in childish gayety,
hummed some merry song. The road gradually
became more solitary; and soon neither the joy-
ous shout of the villager, returning to his cot-
tage-home, nor the rough voice of the carter,
grumbling at his lazy horses, was any longer to







THE LITTLE HERO OF HAARLEM.


be heard. The little fellow now perceived that
the blue of the flowers in his hand was scarcely
distinguishable from the green of the surround-
ing herbage, and he looked up in some dismay.
The night was falling; not, however, a dark
winter night, but one of those beautiful, clear,
moonlight nights, in which every object is per-
ceptible, though not as distinctly as by day.
The child thought of his father, of his injunc-
tion, and was preparing to quit the ravine in
which he was almost buried, and to regain the
beach, when suddenly a slight noise, like the
trickling of water upon pebbles, attracted his
attention. He was near one of the large
sluices, and he now carefully examines it, and
soon discovers a hole in the wood, through
which the water was flowing. With the instant
perception which every child in Holland would
have, the boy saw that the water must soon en-
large the hole through which it was now only
dropping, and that utter and general ruin would
be the consequence of the inundation of the
country that must follow. To see, to throw
away the flowers, to climb from stone to stone
till he reached the hole, and to put his finger
into it, was the work of a moment; and, to his







8 THE LITTLE HERO OF HAARLEM.

delight, he finds that he has succeeded in stop-
ping the flow of the water.
This was all very well for a little while, and
the child thought only of the success of his de-
vice. But the night was closing in, and with
the night came the cold. The little boy looked
around in vain. No one came. He shouted-
he called loudly -no one answered. He re-
solved to stay there all night; but, alas! the
cold was becoming every moment more biting,
and the poor finger fixed in the hole began to
feel benumbed, and the numbness soon extended
to the hand, and thence throughout the whole
arm. The pain became still greater, still harder
to bear; but still the boy moved not. Tears
rolled down his cheeks as he thought of his
father, of his mother, of his little bed, where he
might now be sleeping so soundly; but still the
little fellow stirred not, for he knew that did he
remove the small slender finger which he had
opposed to the escape of the water, not only
would he himself be drowned, but his father,
his brothers, his neighbors -nay, the whole
village. We know not what faltering of pur-
pose, what momentary failures of courage, there
might have been during that long and terrible








STORM AT SEA.


night; but certain it is, that, at day-break, he
was found in the same painful position by a cler-
gyman returning from attendance on a death-
bed, who, as he advanced, thought he heard
groans, and, bending over the dyke, discovered
a child seated on a stone, writhing from pain,
and with pale face and tearful eyes.
Boy," he exclaimed, "what are you doing
there ?"
I am hindering the water from running out,"
was the answer, in perfect simplicity, of the child,
who, during the whole night, had been evincing
such heroic fortitude and undaunted courage.-
Sharpe's Magazine.

I copy these verses for two reasons. They teach trust in God;
and they were written by a gentleman who, I am sure, remembers
with pleasure when he was a scholar in the Sunday School; the
request of whose superintendents induced me to make this miniature
book.
STORM AT SEA.
WE were crowded in the cabin;
Not a soul would dare to sleep:
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.
'Tis a fearful thing, in winter
To be shattered in the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder, Cut away the mast!"







KINDNESS.


So we shuddered there in silence;
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talked with Death.

As thus we sat in darkness,
Each one busy in his prayers,
We are lost !" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand,
"Isn't God upon the ocean
Just the same as on the land ?"

Then we kissed the little maiden,
And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear.
J. T. FIELDS.


Here are two anecdotes: one for boys, the other for girls. When
you read the firet, remember that all good deeds are not published,
and cherish always the belief that many kind acts are done which
are never put in print to be read by everybody.

KINDNESS.

THIS word seldom begins an article in a news-
paper, but cruelty or murder more often
instead. It is a pleasure to record an act of
kindness; painful that we have not frequent
opportunities. Yet such an act made our heart


10







KINDNESS.


glad, filled it with a new love for our kind, only
a day or two since. A school-girl, about ten
years of age, was passing, with a smaller
school-girl in her arms, whom she carried with
much difficulty; for the weather was sultry.
Other children were in company, with books in
their hands. The whole party stopped to rest
under the shade of a tree. Just then, a gentle-
man observed the group. His attention was
particularly attracted by the child, still sup-
ported by the arm of her friend. "What's the
matter, my little Miss?" he inquired, in his
kind, soft tone. She's sick, sir," replied the
friend. "And are you taking her home "
"I'm trying, sir." How far off does she
live ? "Down by the Long Bridge." "A
mile or more and you would carry her through
the hot sun no shade on the way either! "I
must try, sir," answered the school-girl. No,
you must not," said the kind gentleman, "it
would kill both of you." A carriage passed at
this moment. A word and a waving arm
caused it to draw up to the pavement. All the
party entered it, and all right merry, except the
sick one; but even she looked up with a faint
smile, fixing her large, tender eyes on the face


11







A BRAVE BOY.


of the stranger. The driver had been instructed
fully as to his destination, had been paid too,
and now drove away. Poor little girl said
the gentleman to himself, in a low voice. Good
bye, sir!" said all the children, in a high
tone. Washington News.


A BRAVE BOY.

AN interesting little boy, who could not swim,
whilst skating on our river on New Year's Day,
ran into a large air-hole. He kept himself for
a time above water: the little boys, all gathered
round the opening, tried to hand him poles; but
the ice continued breaking, and he was still
floating out of reach. Despair at last seized his
heart, and was visible in every face around. At
this moment, when, exhausted, the poor little
fellow was about to sink, a brave and generous-
hearted boy exclaimed, "I cannot stand it,
boys !" He wheeled round, made a run, and
dashed in at the risk of his own life, and seized
the little boy and swam to the edge of the ice
with him: after breaking his way to the more
solid ice, he succeeded in handing him out to his
companions, who then assisted him out. In


12








LITTLE CHILDREN, LOVE ONE ANOTHER. 13

Rome, this act of heroism would have insured
this brave youth a civic crown. His name is
Albert Hershbergar. Charleston (Va.) Re-
publican.


I know a little girl who has committed this to memory. Let all
little girls and boys who read it do the same, and they will have
music worth listening to in their own hearts.

LITTLE CHILDREN, LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

A LITTLE girl, with a happy look,
Sat slowly reading a ponderous book,
All bound with velvet and edged with gold,
And its weight was more than the child could hold:
Yet dearly she loved to ponder it o'er,
And every day she prized it more;
For it said, and she looked at her smiling mother, -
It said, Little children, love one another."
She thought it was beautiful in the book,
And the lesson home to her heart she took;
She walked on her way with a trusting grace,
And a dove-like look in her meek young face;
Which said, just as plain as words could say,
"The Holy Bible I must obey:
So, mamma, I'll be kind to my darling brother;
For little children must love each other.'
I'm sorry he's naughty, and will not play;
But I'll love him still, for I think the way
To make him gentle and kind to me
Will be better shown if I let him see
2








THE SISTER'S GRAVE.


I fCf:s to do l hat I think is right;
And thus, when I kneel in prayer to-night,
I will clasp my hands around my brother,
And say, Little children, love one another.'"
The little girl did as her Bible taught,
And pleasant indeed was the change it wrought;
For the boy looked up in glad surprise,
To meet the light of her loving eyes:
His heart was full, he could not speak;
But he pressed a kiss on his sister's cheek;
And God looked down on that happy mother
Whose little children loved each other."
Bath Paper.

The two next pieces ought to go together. They resemble each
other, not only in their subjects, but in their beauty also. 1 hardly
know which is the most interesting.

THE SISTER'S GRAVE.

AT Smyrna, the burial-ground of the Ameri-
cans, like that of the Moslems, is removed a
short distance from the town, is sprinkled with
green trees, and is a favorite resort not only
with the bereaved, but with those whose feelings
are not thus darkly overcast. I met there one
morning a little girl with a half-playful counte-
nance, busy blue eye, and sunny locks, bearing
in one hand a small cup of china, and in the
other a wreath of fresh flowers. Feeling a very


14







THE SISTER'S GRAVE.


natural curiosity to know what she could do
with these bright things, in a place that seemed
to partake so much of sadness, I watched her
light motions. Reaching a retired grave, covered
with a plain marble slab, she emptied the seed,
which it appeared the cup contained, into the
slight cavities which had been scooped out in
the corners of the level tablet, and laid the
wreath on its pure face. "And why," I in-
quired, my sweet child, do you put the seed in
those little bowls there? It is to bring the
birds here," she replied with a half-wondering
look: they will light on this tree," pointing
to the cypress above, when they have eaten
the seed, and sing." To whom do they sing?"
I asked: "to you or to each other?" "Oh !no,"
she quickly replied, "to my sister: she sleeps
here." But your sister is dead?" Oh! yes,
sir; but she hears the birds sing." "Well, if
she does hear the birds sing, she cannot see that
wreath of flowers." But she knows I put it
there; I told her, before they took her away from
our house, I would come and see her every morn-
ing." "You must," I continued, "have loved
that sister very much; but you will never talk
with her any more, never see her again." Yes,


IS








16 THE LITTLE FLOWER-GARDEN.


sir," she replied, with a brightened look, "I
shall see her always in heaven." "But she
has gone there already, I trust." No, she
stops under this tree till they bring me here,
and then we are going to heaven together."
" But she has gone already, my child: you will
meet her there, I hope; but certainly she is
gone, and left you to come afterward." She
cast to me a look of inquiring disappointment,
and the tears came to her eyes.

Oh! yes, my sweet child, be it so,
That, near the cypress-tree,
Thy sister sees those eyes overflow,
And fondly waits for thee;
That still she hears the young birds sing,
And sees the chaplet wave,
Which every morn thy light hands bring,
To dress her early grave;
And in a brighter, purer sphere,
Beyond the sunless tomb,
Those virtues that have charmed us here
In fadeless life shall bloom.


THE LITTLE FLOWER-GARDEN.
IN yonder village burying-place,
With briers and weeds o'ergrown,
I saw a child, with beauteous face,
Sit musing all alone.








THE LITTLE FLOWER-GARDE1N.

Without a shoe, without a hat,
Beside a new-raised mound,
The little Willie pensive sat,
As if to guard the ground.

I asked him why he lingered thus
Within that gray old wall.
"Because," said he, it is to us
The dearest place of all."

"And what," said I, to one so young,
Can make the place so dear ?"
SOur mother," said the lisping tongue, -
They laid our mother here.

And since they made it mother's lot,
We like to call it ours:
We took it for our garden-spot,
And planted it with flowers.

We know 'twas here that she was laid;
And yet they tell us, too,
She's now a happy angel made,
To live where angels do.

Then she will watch us from above,
And smile on us, to know
That here her little children love
To make sweet flowerets grow.

My sister Anna's gone to take
Her supper, and will come,
With quickest haste that she can make,
To let me run for some.
2*


17








18 THE LITTLE FLOWER-GARDEN.

We do not leave the spot alone,
For fear the birds will spy
The places where the sewls were sown,
And catch them up and fly.

We love to have them come and feed,
And sing and flit about;
Yet not where we have dropped the seed,
To find and pick it out.

But now the great round yellow sun
Is going down the west;
And soon the birds will every one
Be home, and in the nest.

Then we to rest shall go home too;
And while we're fast asleep,
Amid the darkness and the dew,
Perhaps the sprouts will peep.

And, when our plants have grown so high
That leaves are on the stem,
We'll call the pretty birdies nigh,
And scatter crumbs for them.

For mother loved their songs to hear,
To watch them on the wing:
She'll love to know they still come near
Her little ones, and sing."

Heaven shield thee, precious child! methought,
And sister Annie too !
And may your future days be fraught
With blessings ever new !"
HANAH F. GOULD.







THE FEATHER BRUSH.


This is a true story. A little girl received it in a letter from a
very dear friend before it was printed.

THE FEATHER BRUSH.

So, my dear little friend, you wish for an an-
swer to your letter, and could not understand
that the little feather brush I sent you was a
reply to your loving remembrance, just as if I
had written one with pen and ink. But you
were a kind and loving child to transfer the gift
to little Julia, in your pity for her tears. I
hope it soothed her troubled heart, and dried
her blue eyes; and you now shall have, instead,
the story which those soft feathers were sent to
tell.
One evening last summer, Miss L- came
home from one of her rides, with a large basket
closely covered; and what do you think it con-
tained'? Why, a great anxious mother-hen,
all tawny-colored and white, with thirteen
downy little chickens, who were frightened
enough, and wondering where in the wide world
they were. We made a house for them in
the green meadow, of a barrel turned upside
down; and they all crept under their mother's
wing, and went to sleep. But, lo! a great


19







THE FEATHER BRUSH.


storm came in the night, such a pouring rain;
such a blowing gale, we really feared the
tiny things would be drowned! But a kind
neighbor put on his big coat, and went to their
rescue. He put them all together in the basket
again, and brought it into the kitchen, where
they got thoroughly warm and dry; after which,
they were taken out to the barn, where they
lived a few days very comfortably. Then one
of them disappeared, we never knew where;
and another lamed herself in some way, and,
notwithstanding all our care, she died. But
the rest grew up, a healthy and obedient little
family, always ready to eat, and so quick to
run with their tiny feet, when any one appeared
at the door, that it was very funny to see
them.
Another day, Miss L- brought home two
large chickens; one of them with a long neck,
and a beautiful black crest upon her head, and
a dress of black feathers softer than velvet.
Her we named Donna: sometimes we call her
Bella Donna. The other was dressed in white
feathers, some of them tipped with glossy black
and brown, but many of them pure white. She
was named Luca. They were shut together


20







THE FEATHER BRUSH.


for a few days, until they began to feel at
home; then they were set free to scratch in the
barn-yard, and get acquainted with the neigh-
bors' fowls, when we began to see how different
they were in character as well as dress. Donna
holds her head very high, and pays no attention
to any other hens; runs away from us, when
we invite her to dinner, no matter how nice it
is; and never will get acquainted, all we can
do. But Luca we love as we should a gentle,
timid little girl. Sometimes, when we open the
door, there she stands patiently waiting, and
looks up at us with her bright eye so pleasantly,
that we must stop, if ever so busy, and feed
her. Occasionally we hear a gentle sound on
the door-step, which we all know; then some
one is sure to exclaim, There's Luca," and
run to get her something nice to eat. The little
chickens, with Mater their mother, all come
rushing, tapping, perching, chirping at the door,
and tease and tap-tap and yip-p yip-p" until
we quite weary of them. If the door stands
open, they fly up the steps, walk in, look round
the room, and pick up any thing they can find,
until we send them away. The moment their
tin pan appears, they are all in a flying huddle,


21







22 THE FEATHER BRUSH.


tumble over each other, fly to the pan, to our
shoulders, or anywhere, to get the first mouth-
ful. Old Mater is ravenous and impolite as the
rest, except that she always waits for her chil-
dren to get a few mouthfuls first; but not an-
other hen or chicken must come near them.
Luca, patient gentle Luca, often stands and
waits modestly behind; and, if she gets nothing,
makes a little mournful sound, that is all.
Some flocks of russet, black and brown hens,
crowers, and chickens, who live close by, are a
great annoyance to Mater, and to all of us.
They come shooting into the yard like little
steam-engines, and snatch all they can of the
dinner to which they were not invited; and, if
driven away a dozen times, rush back, the first
chance, to get and devour all they can. Why,
they have been into the house, and eaten a pie
which was set to cool, pecked at the apples,
Pony's oats, and any thing they could find to
eat! What would you have said then ? Even
Mater's children never did such impertinent
things, hungry as they always are. One white
chicken about their size, a naughty-looking lit-
tle thing, with her head always down, left her
own mother, and would come dashing in as if







THE FEATHER BRUSH.


she belonged among them; but Mater and her
little ones always found her out, and sent her
away.
One day we thought we would name the
eleven chickens, as Mater could not name them
herself; and, since then, we know them each
and all, and just how they behave. Annie and
Mary are two sober-looking little creatures, in
quakerish feathers of drab and grey. Nat is a
white crower, with beautiful soft feathers, and
a long graceful black tail. Louise has a shaded
dress of grey and white, and is almost as modest
and gentle as Luca. Hannah is a little bantam,
with tufted head and large eyes, the smallest
but the sprightliest of the family: she always
tumbles in amongst the rest, and gets the first
taste of every thing; and her mother allows her
to do it. One of them, named Lise, a white
one, came in the other morning, just as we had
finished breakfast; and, seeing many things
spread out to eat, she flew up to the back of a
chair, and, perching herself there, surveyed the
whole table, and was very unwilling to get
down. At length, getting a little alarmed at
our efforts to teach her better, she pounced
directly down amidst the cups and dishes, put-


23







24 THE FEATHER BRUSH.


ting her foot into a saucer of tea, and making
a great commotion in her fright. Two, named
George and John, are trying to learn to crow.
Little Mary hears the large hens cackle, and
you would laugh loud to hear her try to imitate
them. They are having warm, new dresses
made for them; so they let the summer ones
blow about in the breeze for any little girls who
want them, particularly kind and neat and useful
little maidens, who love to dust their mother's
books, picture frames, and flower baskets.
If I can send you another brush, my little
friend, you must imagine neat little Louise,
Annie and Mary, gentle Luca and handsome
Donna, sending their best love and kind wishes,
and inviting you to come some summer's day,
to see them eat their dinner, and run about with
them in the green meadows. So, my darling,
good bye. Perhaps, before you come to see us,
Luca may be a little mother, with a brood of
pretty downy children, following all around
her.
Kisses and love from your friend,
F. E. H.
(From the Child's Friend.")









LITTLE PINK.


If any child wishes to know how to be neat and orderly, here,
to teach them, is the example of

LITTLE PINK.
ON a swinging little shelf
Were some pretty little books;
And I reckoned from their looks,
That the darling little elf,
Whose they were,
Was the careful, tidy girl,
With her auburn hair a-curl.

In a little chest of drawers,
Every thing was nice and prim,
And was always kept so trim,
That her childish little stores,
Books or toys,
In good order could be found, -
Never careless thrown around.

And she laid her bonnet by,
When she hastened home from school;
For it was her constant rule, -
And she was resolved to try,
School or home,
How to prove the saying true, -
Order in all things you do."

When she put away her shawl,
Nicely laying by her book,
She had only once to look
In its place to find her doll
Snugly there :


25








26 THE HEROINE OF PILLAU.


She could shut her smiling eyes,
Sure to find her pretty prize.

See her books, how clean they are !
Corners not turned down, I know !
There's a marker, made to show
In her lessons just how far.
Dog-eared books
Are a certain sign to me
That the girl must careless be.

She's as tidy as a pink !
Clean and neat, and gentle too !
If you take her actions through,
Just the same, I know, you'll think.
School or home,
Tasks or play,
Books or toys,
Every way,
Order keeps this loving girl,
With her auburn hair a-curl.
Friend of Youth.

What boy or girl in the Sunday School has not heard of Grace
Darling? Are not these two women, whose noble deeds are told
below, worthy to be called her sister-spirits ?

THE HEROINE OF PILLAU.

A MOST interesting story is told, in a late Ger-
man paper, of a remarkable woman in Pillau,
Prussia, whose heroism of character certainly
rises into the gigantic, or whose intrepidity, to







THE HEROINE OF PILLAU.


say the least, appears to be unprecedented.
This woman, by a truly generous daring, is the
widow of a seaman, with whom, for upwards of
twenty years, she made long voyages; and, since
his death, she has devoted her life, for his
memory's sake, to the noble and perilous task
of carrying aid to the drowning. Her name is
Katherine Klenfoldt. Whenever a storm arises,
whether by day or night, she embarks in her
boat, and quits the harbor in search of ship-
wrecks. At the age of forty-seven, she has
already rescued upwards of three hundred indi-
viduals from certain death. The population of
Pillau venerate her as something holy, and the
seamen look upon her as their guardian-angel.
All heads are uncovered as she passes along the
street. The Prussian and several other govern-
ments have sent her their medals of civil merit:
the municipality of Pillau has conferred on her
the freedom of her town. She possesses an
athletic figure and great strength, seeming to
be furnished by nature in view of a capacity
to go through wild scenes and high deeds. Her
physiognomy is somewhat masculine, with the
expression softened by a look of gentleness and
goodness.


27







28


A GENUINE PHILANTHROPIST.

THE island of Rona is a small and very rocky
spot of land, lying between the isle of Skye and
the main land of Applecross, and is well known
to mariners for the rugged and dangerous
nature of the coast. There is a famous place
of refuge at the north-western extremity, called
the "Muckle Harbor," of very difficult access,
however; which, strange to say, is easier to be
entered at night than during the day. At the
extremity of this hyperboregn solitude is the
residence of a poor widow, whose lonely cottage
is called the "light-house," from the fact that
she uniformly keeps a lamp burning in her little
window at night. By keeping this light, and
the entrance to the harbor open, a small vessel
may enter with the greatest safety. During
the silent watches of the night, the widow may
be seen, like "Norma of the Fitful Head,"
trimming her little lamp with oil, being fearful
that some misguided and frail bark may perish
through her neglect; and for this she receives
no manner of remuneration it is pure, unmin-
gled philanthropy. The poor woman's kindness








THE RAIN-DROP AND THE POET. 29

does not rest even there; for she is unhappy
till the benumbed and shivering mariner comes
ashore to share her little board, and recruit
himself at her cheerful and glowing fire, and
she can seldom be prevailed upon to take any
reward. She has saved more lives than Davy's
belt, and thousands of pounds to the under-
writers. This poor creature, in her younger
days, witnessed her husband struggling with
the waves, and swallowed up by the remorse-
less billow, "in sight of home and friends who
thronged to save." This circumstance seems
to have prompted her present devoted and soli-
tary life, in which her only enjoyment is in
doing good.


Here is a pretty piece. It was written, thirty-four years ago, by
a class-mate and friend ; but it sounds as good as new." If he
should happen to see it here, he will, I know, excuse the alteration
of two lines, which, though quite proper for college-boys studying
Latin and Greek, are not quite proper for children in a Christian
Sunday School.

THE RAIN-DROP AND THE POET.

COME, tell me, little noisy friend,
That knockest at my pane,
Whence is thy being ? Where dost end,
Thou little drop of rain ?
3*








30 THE RAIN-DROP AND THE POET.

I come from the deep,
Where the dark waves sleep,
And their beauty ever the sea-pearls keep;
I go to the brow
Of the mountain-snow,
And trickle again to the depths below.

But, wanderer, how didst win thy way
From caverns of the sea ?
Did not thy sisters say thee nay,
Sweet harbinger of glee ?

With his far-darting flame,
The Day-king came,
And bore me away in a cloudy frame ;
And I sailed in the air,
Till the zephyrs bare
Me hither to hear thy minstrel-prayer.

And why dost change that tiny form,
Thou sweetest ocean-child?
Why art the snow in winter-storm,
The rain in summer mild?

The breath from above
Of Him who is Love,
In the snow and the rain-storm bids me to rove,
Lest the young-budding earth
Be destroyed in the birth,
And Famine insult over Plenty and Mirth.

And wilt thou, little one, bestow
The minstrel's small request ?








THE RAIN-DROP AND THE POET. 31

Wilt come when cares of earth below
Press on his aching breast ?

'Tis the minstrel's own
To kneel at the throne
Of Hlx who reigns in the heavens alone; -
The grief of the soul
'Tis His to control,
Who bids in the azure the planets roll.

His couch when balmy slumber flies,
In watches of the night,
Wilt, soother, come, and close his eyes,
And make his sorrows light?

I cannot come
From my sea-deep home,
Whene'er I list on the earth to roam:
Who rules in the form
Of the ocean-storm
His will must the rain-drop, too, perform.

Thy gentle prattle at the pane
Makes timorous Fancy smile:
Then let me hear that tender strain;
Blithe charmer, stay a while.

No: I cannot delay,
But must quickly away
Where the rills in the valley my coming stay;
I haste to the dell
Where the wild-flowers dwell,
Then Peace to thee, minstrel," is the rain-drop's fare-
well.








32 DIALOGUE FOR CHRISTMAS.


The poetry and prose you have been reading, children, thus far
was most of it selected, when I was invited to a beautiful celebra-
tion, with some account of which you will be glad, I am sure, to
have me close my collection. It was on
CHRISTMAs EVENING AT THE PITTS-STREET CHAPEL,
A very neat chapel, where Rev. Mr. Winkley, one of the Minis-
ters at Large, preaches. On this occasion a platform was built up
\in front of the pulpit: most of the centre pews were filled with
happy-looking boys and girls, and the rest of the room, even to the
aisles, quite crowded with grown-up men and women. After the
singing of two hymns by the children, and a prayer, a gentleman
made a short address, telling how much better was the religion of
the Jews than the religion of the Heathen. Then was spoken in a
very pleasant way the following


DIALOGUE PART I.

RACHEL, a Jewess. REBECCA, Sister of Rachel. Eu-
DORA, a Heathen. JEZEBEL, a Messenger. RUTH,
Friend of Rachel and Rebecca.

Eudora. Rachel!
Rachel. Eudora! welcome, thrice welcome, to
Jerusalem.
Eudora. Right glad am I, Rachel, to be once
more by your side. The sun has not shone so
brightly, nor the birds sung so sweetly, since you
bade me farewell at my father's ; and every
moment has increased my desire to be with you
again.
Rachel. You have well done that you have
come to me. And though I was not conscious








DIALOGUE.


of robbing your lovely home of its brightness,
yet sure I am the remembrance of your true kind-
ness and tender friendship has been to me ever
since an increase of sunshine and song; and, now
that you have come to me, the very temple itself
shall look more beautiful, and the songs of David
catch a new inspiration.
Eudora. Still faithful, I see, to your temple
and Jehovah; and so may it ever be! But I
trust you have more respect for the gods I wor-
ship, and will not, as of yore, pronounce them
false.
Rachel. Sorry should I be to pain a true
heart, and, most of all, that of my much-loved
guest; but, still I must say, the gods that you
worship are no gods. There is but one God, and
that is Jehovah.
Eudora. As I came near Jerusalem, I remem-
bered your earnest words on that subject, as
what that you ever uttered have I forgotten? I
remembered, too, how nearly out of patience
I often felt with you for claiming your god to be
the only God; and, so as I drew near, I felt a
desire to know him better. It being a time of
worship in the temple, I went with a Jewish
friend of mine up the hill, and entered the outer
court, called, I believe, the Court of the Gentiles.


33







DIALOGUE.


And, verily, I saw no god there. Perchance he
was in the temple itself.
Rachel. Yes, in the holy of holies : in the far-
ther apartment of that building which you saw
rising amid all the courts, he dwells.
Eudora. I imagined that was his abode. But
wherein differs your worship from ours ? You have
a temple; so have we. You have priests clothed
in sacred robes; so have we. You have altars
and sacrifices; so have we. You have an oracle
and prophets; so have we. You go up to the
dwelling-place of your God to worship and offer
sacrifices; so do we. Wherein, then, do we differ ?
Rachel. If in nothing else, Eudora, yet in this :
we have but one temple and one God for our
nation; you have many. And again, you wor-
ship the work of men's hands, images of wood
and stone, that can neither see nor feel.
Rebecca (coming forward Jezebel approach-
es). My heart is moved within me; and though
my sister, in her joy of seeing her friend, has left
me standing apart, yet your voice has drawn me
to you.
Eudora. Surely the sister of my friend shall
be my sister: would that I could say her God
shall be my God!
Rebecca. Even so may it be!


34








DIALOGUE.


Eudora. And my gods hers!
Rebecca. But that is impossible.
Eudora. Why ? Because, as she says, we
have images for gods! But this is not so. Is
Jupiter the thunderer confined to an image ? or
is Juno or any other deity? Have we not
many images of all the gods in many places, and
are they not in them all ? Do not our armies go
forth to war, and is not Jupiter with them and
Mars also? These images are but reminders of
the gods, as my father's statue is of him.
Rebecca. 'Tis true these many images and
temples may not hold your gods more than our
synagogues hold Jehovah; but as great an error
is yours. You worship what has no existence;
your gods are creatures of fancy. Your gods,
too, are of various character, and not always
agreed. This goodly world is not the patch-
work of many and different gods, but of one
designing mind,--one executing power; and
that one, Jehovah.
Eudora. Your sister, in many hours of pre-
cious intercourse, has almost persuaded me to
believe in but one God; but why, if there be but
one, may not that one be our Jupiter, known as
the father of gods and men, as well as your
Jehovah ?


35








DIALOGUE.


Jezebel (To Eudora). Because he is not. (To
Rachel and Rebecca). Why do you talk with
that stupid Heathen ? You might as well con-
vince a Samaritan dog. I have waited here with
a message from David since the fifth hour, and
all to be contaminated with idolatrous breath.
Rachel. Why, Jezebel, do you not remember
what the wise Solomon has said: "He that is
slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he
that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city;"
or Moses' commands concerning the stranger and
hospitality ?
Jezebel. Well, prate not to me, daughter of
Eliab; for I need it not. Tell me if you have
fulfilled the mission given you this day, and what
answer I shall make.
Rachel. I have. Ye only need say, "It is
well." [Jezebel departs impatiently.
(To Eudora.) Be not moved by our neighbor's
unkind manners. Did she love Jehovah, she
would not thus do.
Eudora. And is Jehovah careful about these
things ?
Rachel. Yes: every act is noticed by him;
every heart is his desire; and herein he differs
from all imaginary gods. Jupiter sits apart, and
simply rules the nations. Jehovah loves the


36








DIALOGUE.


children he has created, and is careful about their
least concerns. He desires their love in return.
Your gods demand conduct and sacrifices inju-
rious and degrading. Jehovah's every word is
for his people's prosperity.
Eudora. And you are like your god. Your
patient doing of right in the past comes to me;
and this, with your kindness to the unfeeling and
abusive Jezebel, has convinced me more, if pos-
sible, than your arguments. Surely I see that it
was such a god that I desired to worship in Ju-
piter. If this be found alone in your god, then
does my heart move me to say, Jehovah, He is
God, and there is none else. Oh! may I not be
mistaken!
Rachel. Trust in Jehovah, and thou shalt not err.
Rebecca. Rejoice in Jehovah, and thou shalt
be glad for ever.
Ruth (calling). Rachel!
Rachel. I come. (To Judora.) Let us hasten;
for we have long tarried, and many wait to wel-
come you. (Singing heard.) Hark! they are
singing one of the songs of David: let us go
join them.
At the close of the dialogue, the cxxxvi. Psalm was chanted;
and then another gentleman described the erroneous notions which
the Jews had of the expected Messiah. His remarks were suc-
ceeded by
4


37








DIALOGUE.


DIALOGUE. PART II.

ANNA, MARTHA, SALOME, MARY, of Jerusalem.
MIRIAM, LEAH, of Bethlehem.

Mary (coming with Salome to Martha). Mar-
tha, I have been seeking, and am glad that I have
found you; but why do you weep ?
Martha. We may do nothing else now, and
the meeting with others seems to be the signal
for fresh floods of tears.
Salome. I may not ask the cause of your grief;
for my own soul replies it is the common grief,
- our nation's bondage.
Martha. Yes, we are slaves; that only thought
haunts me; the chosen people of Jehovah in
subjection to the idolatrous Roman.
SSalome. Where now is the might of David ?
where the glory of Solomon? Surely Miriam's
song may be turned upon ourselves; for the
enemy hath triumphed gloriously," and we are
laid in the dust.
Mary. Let us not, however, despond too
much. Jehovah will not always chide. The
Roman sway shall have an end.
Martha. I know that Messiah cometh, and he
will restore all things; but when ?


38







DIALOGUE.


Salome. Yes, when ? Long have we waited,
and bitter has been our bondage; and even our
own Herod has been more cruel than our foes.
Mary. Nevertheless, let us hope. In the
fulness of time the promised one will come.
(Miriam and Leah approach.) But, see! two
more friends join us.
Martha. Rather say, two more slaves.
Salome. Yes; two more to weep with us.
Miriam. Not so, not so, unless we weep for
joy. The cloud that has so long hung over us
in blackness is beginning to break. We have
experienced more of gladness this day than has
been ours since the last report that the Messiah
had come was proved false.
Leah. Yes, we have heard strange things since
the morning service; joyful news have we for
you.
Martha. Another false prophet, no doubt,
claiming to be Israel's deliverer, and proving a
thousand times her foe.
Salome. Let us not cheat ourselves with any
more fanatical dreams.
Miriam. No dream this; no fanatic's voice;
no prophet's word, but a message direct from
Heaven.
Martha. A message from Heaven!


38







DIALOGUE.


Leah. 'Tis even so. Listen while I tell you.
At Bethlehem, last night, the shepherds were
watching their flocks as usual; at midnight they
were startled by the sudden appearance of an
angel of the Lord, and the shining round about
them of an exceeding bright light; and the angel
spoke to them. Fear not," said he, for, behold!
I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall
be to all the people; for unto you is born this
day, in the city of David, a Saviour, even the
Messiah."
Martha. Can this be true?
Salome. But how shall he be known?
Anna. In Bethlehem, did you say ? But there
is no palace in Bethlehem, where a prince should
be born.
Leah. Wait a little : I have not told you all.
"This," said the angel to the shepherds, shall
be a sign to you. Ye shall find the babe wrapped
in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger." And,
when he had thus said, there suddenly joined
him a multitude of the heavenly host; and pre-
sently they burst forth into this song, Glory
to God in the highest; on earth peace and good
will towards men!" And with this song they
departed.
Anna. This is indeed wonderful!








DIALOGUE.


Salome. But have the shepherds seen the
babe?
Martha. Oh! tell us that. Have they seen
the babe? and are all things as they have de-
clared ?
Miriam. Yes. We met them on their return.
They were, with full hearts, praising God for the
new hope of a glorious deliverance given to the
nation.
Leah. All hearts warmed as they spoke; and,
catching their gladness, we come to you.
Mary. Then shall we indeed hope! 0 my
people my people Israel! shall we see you again
in your former glory?
Martha. Surely, this news inspires my own
soul. Once more shall the Roman be driven
forth by the Lord of hosts; once more "shall
Jehovah triumph, and his people be free."
Salome. Yes; and Messiah shall bring all
nations into subjection to us, as we are now to
the Romans.
Anna. Well may we wait a little longer, and
bear the yoke with patience.
Mary. I knew the Lord would not always
chide, nor keep his anger for ever. Now may
we rejoice and glory in the God of our salva-
tion.
4*


41








DIALOGUE.


Martha. Once more shall the name of a Jew
be somewhat more than a byword. When our
King shall ride forth in his majesty, conquering
and to conquer, then shall the Jews be terrible
to their enemies, honored by their friends, and
known everywhere as the people of the whole
earth whom the Lord delighteth to honor.
Leah. Let us tarry no longer here, feasting
on these good things alone; but away ; and, in
every closet and from every house-top, let us
spread the good news.
Mary. Let us first, however, sing to Jehovah
a song of triumph, and then to our work.
Miriam. Even so let it be.

Then arose, beautifully sung, this

JEWISH SONG.

WELCOME day, oh, welcome day a Saviour is born!
Welcome day, oh, welcome day no longer we mourn.
Our nation, exulting
O'er foes long insulting,
Sings aloud, now sings aloud, Oh, welcome this day!

Lift your voice, oh, lift your voice Jehovah is God !
Lift your voice, oh, lift your voice He has lifted the rod.
With goodness unceasing,
From bondage releasing,
We his people will sing, Jehovah is God !


42








DIALOGUE.


Sound it forth, oh, sound it forth! Messias hath come!
Sound it forth, oh, sound it forth! through every sad
home.
With power avenging,
Our great wrongs revenging,
He has come, he has come, Messias hath come !

Joy is ours, oh, joy is ours his sword shall defend !
Joy is ours, oh, joy is ours! our foes shall now bend.
While at their yoke spurning,
Their insults returning,
Joy is ours, we are free, his sword shall defend!
Mrs. S. H. WINKLEY.

Another address from a friend explained the true idea of Christ
as a Saviour, to introduce

DIALOGUE PART III.
EUDORA, Heathen. ZACHARIAH, JOHN, RACHEL, RE-
BECCA, SALOME, MARY, and JEZEBEL, Jews.
Eudora. Well, Rachel, I owe you more than
tongue can tell. The more I study Moses and
the prophets, the more I believe in and love
Jehovah; and the more surprised am I, that, for
a moment, I hesitated in giving up the false
gods of my childhood.
Rachel. To Jehovah be your thanks, my
friend, my sister; for never by human reason-
ing should we have been different from you. In
love Jehovah revealed himself to us; and what
4t








DIALOGUE.


we have so fully learned from him, we have given
to you.
Eudora. But what think you of the prophet
in the wilderness, John I think they call
him?
Rachel. He is dead. He was a bold man,
and a good one, I think; but the best should be
careful how they rebuke kings. John rebuked
Herod, and lost his head in consequence thereof.
Eudora. Well, we must all die.
Rachel. Not so says he whom John declared
to be greater than himself, Jesus of Nazareth.
Zachariah. If he be what many claim him,
he speaks with more authority on that point
than the Pharisees.
Eudora. And what do people say he is?
Zachariah. The Messiah.
Eudora. Israel's Deliverer?
Zachariah. Yes.
Eudora. Well, what says he?
John. That they who believe in him shall
never die.
Eudora. Surely, no one believeth that. Or
does he jest, by saying what he knows they can-
not receive ?
Rachel. You have never seen him, or you
would not ask that question. No one hearing


44








DIALOGUE.


him can doubt, that he, like John, would seal
his words with his blood.
John. You have seen him: is he like John ?
Rachel. In boldness very like him. In other
respects they differ. John was clothed like the
prophets; Jesus wears the common garb. John
dwelt in the wilderness, and on the banks of the
Jordan; but Jesus frequents the cities and vil-
lages. John was stern in manner, and abstemi-
ous in food; Jesus is neither. He is gentle and
social; often seen at the feasts of the publicans,
and associating with the multitudes.
Eudora. But does he, like the former kings
of Israel, combine military ardor with his reli-
gious enthusiasm?
Rachel. He seems, with all his boundless
benevolence, formed to command; but never
has he aimed to form an army, though the
people would at one time have declared him
king. Salome promised to meet us here at this
time. I wish she were present. She can tell
you more of him than can I.
Eudora. And here she is.
John. Welcome to our circle and doubly so
now; for we would hear of you concerning this
Jesus, who we hoped was to be our deliverer
from bondage.


45







DIALOGUE.


Salome. Right glad am I to be here, and more
so to speak of him; for he hath come indeed to
deliver us from bondage,-a worse, however,
than Roman bondage.
John. Are we to have a harder taskmaster
than the Romans, before we are delivered ?
Salome. No harder master than we now have.
The Roman is not our only or worst bondage.
Rebecca. What talk you of so earnestly ?
Salome. Jesus of Nazareth.
Rebecca. He has come, it is said, to set up a
new kingdom.
Salome. Rather to enlarge the kingdom al-
ready flourishing in heaven.
Rebecca. Call it what you may, he is slow in
gathering his armies.
Salome. He needs no army for his conquests,
but an army of loving hearts and pure spirits.
Rebecca. Then the nation's hope is again
blasted, and we are to remain yet longer sub-
jects of a foreign king.
Salome. Not so. This is the true Messiah:
he who joins his kingdom shall be free indeed.
Rebecca. But what freedom can there be
greater than from Roman bondage ?
Eudora. Unless it be a deliverance, such as
mine, from idolatry and superstition. Methinks


46








DIALOGUE.


there is no liberty to be compared with that; and,
having that, slavery loses its power.
Jezebel. Or deliverance, such as mine, from an
unholy temper. Surely, Eudora, mine is the
greater deliverance; for what is truth without
goodness? You were delivered from error; I
from sin. Oh! since I have been from place to
place with the Son of God, and listened to his
gracious words, I have forgotten to be angry;
and, I trust, my growing love for his Father and
mine will cleanse me from all sin !
Mary. I, too, have felt his power, and am
seeking to join his kingdom. I first took him
for a second David, who should glorify his peo-
ple; then, when no army gathered around him,
for a prophet sent to reform the nation. But
now I believe him to be greater than either, -
even the Son of God, and begin to think that
he purposes to bless, not Jews alone, but Gen-
tiles; not Palestine, but the world.
Rebecca. Why should we think him greater
than the prophets? why, the Son of Jehovah?
Are the reports about his working miracles to be
received as true?
Salome. Certainly; for I have witnessed them.
I have, at his mere word or touch, seen the leper
cleansed; the blind receive sight; the lame


47








DIALOGUE.


walk; and, that last wonderful work, Lazarus of
Bethany raised from the dead.
Rebecca. And what think you of all this ?
Salome. Just what one of our rulers declared
to him the other night, "No man can do these
miracles and not come from God, and have God
with him." When the Pharisees or the Scribes
tell me I am immortal, I question; but when he,
thus aided by Jehovah, asserts the truth, it is
enough.
Rebecca (to Mary). And did this move you
also ?
Mary. How could I doubt any doctrine of his,
after witnessing these works ?
Jezebel. But this is not all. He moved our
hearts to love, as well as our minds to believe.
With all my ill temper in the past, I have ever
taken an interest in children. Judge ye, then, of
the effect produced upon me, the first time I saw
him, by this circumstance. I was walking along,
filled with my usual impatience, when I suddenly
saw Jesus at a distance, surrounded by a crowd,
nany of whom were Scribes and Pharisees. He
had pleased the multitude, and excited even the
admiration of his enemies; when, as I came
nigh, I saw several persons endeavoring to get
nearer to him with their children. They were








DIALOGUE.


rebuked even by his disciples; but Jesus, seeing
the act, asked for the children, took them in his
arms, and blessed them. From that moment
have I loved and followed him.
Mary. Then came his kind, yet firm rebuke
of sin; his description of those who were pre-
pared to join his kingdom; his promise to re-
ceive the worst who would become like himself;
his assurance that all who continued faithful to
the end of this life should in the next be joined
to his Father's family; and, above all, the repre-
sentation of Jehovah as our Father, who would
give us eternal joy. Oh! what change have his
glorious words wrought in us!
Rebecca. Why do you say, changed us"
Jezebel needed to be changed, but not you.
Mary. Such change as he demanded I needed.
Oh! how much 'Tis true, inform I have served
the God of my fathers. I have endeavored to
keep unbroken the law; but that was not suffi-
cient. To be like him, the heart must burn
with that love to his Father, that your delight
will be even to be crucified in his service.
Salome. Yes; as Mary says, he demands that
love which not only pours itself forth to friends,
but to strangers, and with diligence seeks the
happiness even of our bitterest foes.








DIALOGUE.


Zachariah. 0 that I might have such a spirit,
and be one of such a society !
Mary. And so you may.
John. And I!
Rebecca. And I!
Salome. Yes; all, all who are weary of sin,
and heavy laden with cares, all may come, and
none will be cast forth.
John. This is freedom indeed.
Rachel. And greatness indeed.
Rebecca. Such a people must be the chosen of
the Lord.
Eudora. No longer Jew and Gentile, but one
in Jesus.
Salome. Is not this a Saviour for Israel ? Oh !
my heart burns within me for joy; for all people
shall partake of this salvation.
Rachel. Glory to God in the highest; on earth
peace and good-will to men!
Mary. The angel's song; and why should not
we in a song praise God that he hath visited and
redeemed his people ?
Rebecca. And may God make us true to this
Saviour to the last !

Next came an appropriate hymn; after which the pastor re-
viewed and explained the meaning of the different exercises of the
evening, and what they were intended to teach about the origin


60










CONCLUSIOn. 61


and truth and blessedness of Christianity. A prayer was offered, and
the services closed with that noble hymn, beginning All hail the
power of Jesus' name," sung to that noble old tune, Coronation."
I thought the Dialogues would please you, and asked leave to
print them here.
If there is any thing in the Dialogues, or in any of the pieces in
this little book, you cannot understand, you must ask for an expla-
nation from your parents or teachers, who will be glad to answer
your questions. And now, if these GEMS give you as much
pleasure as the Christmas Evening at the Pitts-street Chapel"
gave those who were present, I think, though gathered in haste,"
you will say they are worth keeping, and looking at often.


Boston, Jan 1, 1851.




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