UIGSB tlBRARY 
 :3/ - 535<i>M
 
 THE OLD ELM. 
 
 See page o7.
 
 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM; 
 
 OB, 
 
 UNCLE HENRY'S TALKS WITH THE 
 LITTLE FOLKS. 
 
 By Rev^H. p. ANDREWS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "SIX. STEPS TO HOXOR." 
 
 " LeaU them gently in the wny 
 
 To life and hfnvnn ; 
 For it is tt> such as tbey 
 
 That cronriis are given." 
 
 Nciv Dork 
 
 PUBLISHED BY CAllLTOX S: PoRTKl; 
 
 8ITNDAY SCHOOL UNION, iOO MULBEKRT-STREET.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S57, by 
 CARLTOX & PORl^]:, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern 
 District of New-York.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The following pages are designed 
 for yonng reader^;. The author has 
 earnestly and prayerfully endeavored 
 so to bring out the most important 
 thoughts belonging to the main sul)- 
 ject of the book, as to allure the 
 youthful mind to their contempla- 
 tion. The task is a delicate one; 
 and if the presen ■ attempt is a fail- 
 ure, the writer w^JI not be alone in 
 his sorrow ; others, have failed before 
 him. But he fc idly hopes he has 
 jdot failed. One ■< liing he has sought
 
 6 PREFACE. 
 
 to keep constantly in view, namely: 
 that he was writing for children. If 
 they are pleased and benefited, his 
 heart will be gladdened. To con- 
 tribute something toward secm-ing 
 them from surrounding evil, is his 
 ardent des-ire. With a prayer for 
 the Divine blessing upon his little 
 book, it is passed into the open 
 hands of the children of the Church. 
 May its 'Voices" reach their hearts,, 
 and lead to dayly prayer and lives 
 of earnest piety. 
 
 The Author.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ARRIVAI>. 
 
 The Lotter — " Uncle Henry is coming" — Eemlnisceoces — The 
 Old IlomesUiad — Death of Parents — The Orphans — Trust ia 
 God — Prosperity — Preparations for the Guest — Henry's Ar- 
 rival — Welcome page 13 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 Busy Morning — Sabbath — Early Walk — A Place to Pray —The 
 Old Pastor — The Sermon— The Party decided u[Ktn— Wednes- 
 day Morning — Disappointment — The Swing — Happy Time 
 
 — Fair Weather — Preparations for the Party — Arrival of the 
 Children — Supi^er under the Old Elm — What shall we Play ? 
 
 — The Ecquest — Meeting under the Old Elm 28 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 " AFTKK THIS MANNER THEREFORE PRAY YE." 
 
 What is Prayer ? — Not mere Words — Three Things considered 
 
 — Prayer includes Sease of Need — The Rich Beggar — Why 
 did he beg? — Susan's Difficulty — Different Origin of Wants 
 
 — College Incident — Prayer includes Confidence in God — His 
 Ability — All-p<nverful, All-wise, AU-present — His Willingness 
 
 — Shown from Bible and Experience — Examples — Prayer 
 includes Submission to God's Will — Proof —Summing up the 
 Argument — The Request — Consent — Future MeetiDgs. . , 89
 
 8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 
 
 Tbo Excursion — Following np tho Stream — Fine String of Fish 
 
 — The carious Pond — On the Mountain — View— The Cot- 
 tage—Jennie—The Spy-Glass — Lesson in Optics — Keturn 
 Home PAGE 68 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 '•OUK iATHER WUO ART IN HE^\.VEN." 
 
 Second Meeting —Little Ella Sick — Sympathy — Is there a God ? 
 
 — How known — From his TTorks — "I'm sure" — Tracks. in 
 the Snow — The Seasons — Tts Book — The Painting — The 
 Mansion — God's Character — How discovered — Contradictions 
 in Nature — In Providence — The Bible — God's Book— God 
 " Our Father"- His Love, Kindness, Patience, Mercy — Pruofs 
 
 — "Waking up in the Morning 75 
 
 CHAPTJ R VI. 
 
 "hallowed b: thy naiie." 
 
 Meaning of "hallowed" — God's IJ&vae to be Hallowed- In our 
 Thoughts — Sarah Stanhope— ^Hcked Thoughts— "Were they 
 her own ? — Pilgrim's Progre . — Dark "Valley — "Whispered 
 Blasphemies — Harry's Temp -i.tion — Opposite Effects — In 
 our "Words — Profanity "Wicked — Incident — Swearing unman- 
 ly — Washington — Howard — Dr. Gifford — Catching Fish 
 without a Bait — Sad Eesults of Profanity — Incidents. 109 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 THE POCElT-BOOK. 
 
 The Visit— Pleasant Time — Th^ Eeturn — The Prize found- 
 Exhibited — Visions of "Wealth —The Pony — "Is the Money 
 Mine?"— Tlie lost Pony — "Whose is it?— Wliat constitutes 
 Proj.erty ? — '' The Money is n<. t Mine" — Decision 134
 
 CONTENTS. y 
 
 CHAPTER Via 
 
 UONESTY THE BEST rOLICY. 
 
 Advertising the Pocket-Book — The Splendid Carriage — Beauti- 
 ful Lady — Owner of the Money — " Proves Property" — Wil- 
 lie's Reward— The Agreeable Surprise— Old Friends. . . page 146 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 
 
 "Walter Martyn —The Eescue — Results— Joins the Church — 
 Willie's Father— Willie's Gold — "What shall I do with it?" 
 
 — The Savings Bank — The Gold Deposited — Money at In- 
 terest Ii34 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " THY KINGDOM COilE, THY "WILL BE DONE ON E.VETH A3 IT 
 IS IN HEAVEN." 
 
 Stormy Friday — Pleasant Morning — Joy — The Boys' Plan — 
 Mother is willing — Going for Ella — Jennie's Ride — Ella's Joy 
 
 — The Return — Another Meeting — All there — Kingdom of 
 God — Explained — Kingdom of Grace — Its Seat in the Heart 
 
 — Is to be Universal — Extended by Agents — Emily's Wish — 
 Test of Love — Neglected Children — A Sinful World — " What 
 can Little Folks do ?" — They can Pray — Pennies for the Mis- 
 sionary — Scattering Flower Seeds 164: 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BEGINNING TO WORK. 
 
 Little Clara— Her Drunken Father — " What can I do ?"— Clara's 
 Resolve — The Discovery — Penitence — Resolution to Reform 
 
 — Sabbath Morning — The Walk — Prayer — Decision — TIi o 
 Drunkard Converted — Happy Home 183 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "gI\'E us THIS DAY OUR DAYLY BRE.VD." 
 
 Happy Clara — Saved her Father — The Reformed Man — Un- 
 christian Doubts — Henry's Joy — Subject of Conversation —
 
 10 CONTENTS, 
 
 Meaning of the Words — Form of Petition — Manna In the Wil- 
 derness — Manner of Keceiving — Spirit of Petition — Teaches 
 Dependence — God alone has Power — Expression of Faith — 
 What is Active Faith? — God never Forgets — The Silver 
 Dollar — The Poor Children and the Miser — The Guinea in 
 the Ashes page 197 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 NED WILDER. 
 
 Picking Strawberries — Ned's Wickedness — The Fight— Stran- 
 ger — Cowardice— True Courage —Why did Edward do so? — 
 Robert's Nobleness 222 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "forgive us OTTB DEBT3, AS WE FORGIVE OXJR DEBTORS." 
 
 Another Meeting — Meaning of "Debts"— What is Sin? — All 
 Guilty — Terms of Pardon — Forgive us as we forgive — Wo 
 must forgive fully — A Kiss for a Blow — We must forgive 
 speedily — Peter and his Mill — The Letter — Eesults — We 
 must forgive condescendingly — "While we were yet Sinners 
 He loved us" — We must forgive aflFectionately — From the 
 Heart — Matt, xviii, 34, 35 — Carl Thorn and the Miller's Boy 
 — The Broken Ship 234 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "lead TJ3 NOT INTO TEMTTAHON, BUT DELIVER US FROM 
 EVIL." 
 
 Kichard Winthrope — Continues firm — Christian Effort — Eobert 
 and Edward — Love Conquers — The Meeting — Edward Pres- 
 ent — Does God tempt? — James i, 13 — Hardening Pharaoh's 
 Heart — Sources of Temptation — Satan the First Tempter — 
 The World — Its Riches — Its Pleasures — The Flesh — Usual 
 Course of Temptation — Progressive — Harry Hapgood and the 
 Pears — How Harry became a Thief— Four Steps — Achan — 
 His Confession — "I saw ; I coveted ; I took ; I hid" — Obeying 
 Orders — Four Things to be considered — Sin leads to Misery — 
 Kind Words — Conclusion 2S8
 
 lUttstratiijns* 
 
 PA08 
 
 TjtE Old Elm 2 
 
 Willie Comforting Jexxie 29 
 
 Willie and the Pocket-Book 137 
 
 The Poor Woman's unknown Friend 213
 
 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM, 
 
 -♦♦>■ 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! I have got a letter 
 from Uncle Henry. I know it is from 
 liim, for the writing looks just like tbat in 
 my Christmas present," shouted Willie 
 Manl}^, as, returning from the post-office, 
 he burst, hat in hand, into the kitchen, 
 where his mother was busy with her 
 morning duties. 
 
 "Let me see it, my son," said Mrs. 
 Manly, hastily wiping her hands. Then 
 taking the letter, she glanced at the direc- 
 tions, while a joyous light flitted across 
 her usually calm face.
 
 14 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 The seal was broken and the letter read, 
 while Willie stood waiting by his mother's 
 side, impatient to hear the news. 
 
 "Well, Willie," said his mother, folding 
 up the letter, " your uncle has promised 
 us a visit, and says he shall be here to-day 
 or to-morrow." 
 
 " Good ! good !" cried the excited boy, 
 clapping his hands, and running away to 
 the garden to communicate the joyful 
 news to Cousin Charles and Sister Jennie, 
 who were out weeding their flower-beds. 
 
 " O, Jennie !" he cried, bounding down 
 the broad center walk, his face glowing, 
 and his large hazel eyes flasliing with ex- 
 citement ; " mother has got a letter from 
 Uncle Henry, and you can't guess what 
 he says !" 
 
 "No, I can't, but what does he say?" 
 and the girl lifted her beautiful face, full 
 of wonder, from her work, and shook back 
 the golden ringlets which had fallen over 
 her rosy cheeks. 
 
 " He's coming to make us a visit, and 
 will be here to-day or to-morrow ; hur-? 
 ra!"
 
 THE ARRIVAL. 16 
 
 " O, I'm SO glad !" answered the sister, 
 while Willie fairly danced with delight. 
 Even Cousin Charles, who had come from 
 the city to spend the summer at Rose Cot- 
 tage, could not help participating in the 
 joy of the happy children, although he 
 had never seen the loved uncle, whose 
 expected coming had caused such joyous 
 emotions. 
 
 Great was the stir at the cottage that 
 day, in prospect of the arrival of Mr. 
 Woodman, who was expected to prolong 
 his stay at his sister's quite 'through the 
 summer. The children were overjoyed, 
 for Uncle Henry was a decided favorite 
 with the little folks ; and Mre. Manly and 
 her excellent husband largely shared in 
 their pleasure. 
 
 Uncle Henry, as the children called 
 him, had never been able to pass much 
 time with his only sister, since the death 
 of their parents had separated them, for 
 Providence had cast their lots so widely 
 asunder. But now, having, by the energy 
 of his own will, with the blessing of God 
 upon his efforts, completed his college
 
 16 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 course and his Biblical studies, he pro- 
 posed to spend a few months in the retire- 
 ment of her beautiful home, previous to 
 entering upon his solemn duties as a min- 
 ister of the Gospel. 
 
 Henry and his sister, who was now Mrs. 
 Woodman, were the only children of poor 
 but virtuous parents. Living, during their 
 early childhood, quite remote from the 
 homes of others, they had learned to love 
 each other all the more dearly, and to 
 look for happiness alone in their own 
 little home-circle. 
 
 Sarah was five years old when the little 
 cunning babe, with his fat, chubby hands, 
 and dimpled cheeks, and mild, blue eyes, 
 was placed in her arms, and she was told 
 to call him brother. She loved him then, 
 and her affection had been gathering 
 strength through all the long years which 
 had passed since. 
 
 Henry w^as gathering the roses of his 
 eighth summer when his kind- father died ; 
 and scarce had the early frosts of autumn 
 tinged the brightness of the forests, when 
 liis loving mother, committing her dar-
 
 THE ARRIVAL. 17 
 
 lings to the care of Heaven, lay clown to 
 sleep beside her husband's grave. 
 
 Sad, indeed, were the hearts of the or- 
 phans, as they returned from the lonely 
 graveyard to their still more lonely and 
 desolate home. They took the old, worn 
 Bible from the stand at the head of their 
 mother's bed, and found the precious 
 promises which their parents had so often 
 read to them. Then they knelt down 
 side by side, and committed themselves 
 to the orphan's God. Earthly friends they 
 had none ; but they had a Father in 
 heaven, and to him they fled in the hour 
 of their need, and were comforted. They 
 read that precious promise, " When thy 
 father and thy mother foi*sake thee, then 
 the Lord shall take thee up," and in their 
 hearts they believed it true. 
 
 " God will surely provide for us, Hen- 
 ry," said the sister to her sobbing brother; 
 and then they laid themselves down to 
 sleep. 
 
 And ever since that hour of weeping, 
 upon the sad evening following the funeral 
 of their dear mother, Providence had
 
 18 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 provided for the pious, trusting orphans. 
 Friends were raised up, and good homes 
 provided for them. True, it was found 
 necessary to separate them, yet every- 
 thing was made as pleasant as possible 
 for the sorrowing children. 
 
 And now, after an absence of a score 
 of years, with only brief, occasional visits, 
 that brother was coming to find, for a 
 time, a home with his still loving sister. 
 
 Mi*s. Manly took the letter which con- 
 tained the welcome news, and retired into 
 the little room, rendered sacred by holy 
 communings. Here had she knelt every 
 day for the twelve years of her wedded 
 life, to pray for God's blessing upon the 
 efforts of her almost idolized brother, who, 
 far away, was laboring to clad himself for 
 holy warfare. And God had answered 
 her prayers. The work was accomplished. 
 Every barrier had been removed, every 
 difficulty surmounted, and Henry was 
 returning to rejoice with her, who, 
 more than all others, had encouraged 
 him in his work, and ministered to his 
 success.
 
 THE ARRIVAL. 19 
 
 The mind of the prayiug sister went 
 back to other daye. Again she was a 
 little girl, pressing that baby brother to 
 Iier heart. Again she played with him 
 amid the flowers, and listened to the song 
 of birds. She thought of the blighting of 
 their early hopes iu the death of their lov- 
 ing parents. Step by step, she followed 
 the strange windings of the past, marking 
 the hand of God at every turn, until that 
 path which led from the darkness of the 
 house of death opened out into the bright- 
 ness of the joyous present, crowned with 
 the sunshine of honorable success. 
 
 Very grateful and very happy was the 
 heart of the pious woman, as she went 
 singing back to her morning labors. 
 
 The children had much to do. Not a 
 weed must be left in their little garden, for 
 Uncle Henry was very particular. The 
 vine must also be tied up into festoons 
 over the window of the charming little 
 guest-chamber. Fresh, green boughs must 
 fill the marble fire-place, a bouquet of the 
 choicest wild-flowery must grace the an- 
 tique china vase on tlie mantle, and clear 
 2
 
 20 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 soft water from the sparkling spring on 
 the hill-side, fill the urn-like pitcher on 
 the neatly covered wash-stand. 
 
 And then there was the front yard, 
 shaded by the old wide-spreading elm, 
 that, too, must be examined. Every stone 
 was gathered up, every dried leaf and 
 decayed branch removed ; and when it 
 haS all been raked over with Willie's 
 nice garden rake, it fairly smiledy it was 
 so clean and bright. 
 
 Then Willie took his little wheelbarrow, 
 and Charles the bright garden shovel 
 which Mr. Manley had just bought for his 
 son, and away down the ro-ad they ran, 
 happy as the bii^is whieh sang in the 
 trees, and as full of mirth and laughter as 
 the rill that came leaping and dancing 
 from the hill-^iide, and went singing along 
 under the little bridge, and away through 
 the fields and meadows, tracking its course 
 with venlure,.and leaving the bright fl:ow« 
 ers to mark its windings. 
 
 For an hour or more the two happy 
 boys worked with a will, taking turns ia 
 wheeling the heavy loads. At last^ the
 
 THE ARRIVAL. 21 
 
 broad walk tliat led from the front door. 
 
 shaded with its fragrant honeysuckles 
 down to the road, was all covered ov^er 
 with a thick dressing of clean, new 
 gravel. 
 
 It was past three o'clock when all was 
 completed ; and the three children, wash- 
 ed and neatly dressed, sat down upon the 
 green grass beneath the Old Elm to await 
 the return of Willie's father, who had 
 gone to the d6p6t for Uncle Henry, hop- 
 ing to meet him there. Soon the shrill 
 whistle of the engine was heard, and in a 
 short time Mr. Manle}^ returned, accompa- 
 nied by his brother-in-law. 
 
 A joyous meeting was that under the 
 shade of the Old Elm, and very happy did 
 they all seem, as Mr. Manley and his wife 
 led the way into their sunny cottage, fol- 
 lowed by Henry, with the children cling- 
 ing to both his hands. 
 
 "Welcome home! my dear brother," 
 said Mrs. Manley, handing him to a large 
 eas}^ chair, and leaving a kiss upon his 
 noble brow. 
 
 " Thank you, sister."
 
 22 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 It was all he could say. Home! how 
 the word thrilled to his soul, and awaken- 
 ed echoes which had slumbered through 
 80 many weary yeai's*
 
 THE PARTY. 28 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 THE PARTY. 
 
 Henry Woodman arrived at his sister's 
 on Friday, and the next day he was 
 shown all the wonders of the place. First, 
 he must go out with the children and ad- 
 mire their neat garden. Tlien the boys 
 must lead him down to the brook to view 
 their mimic saw-mill, and see how nicely it 
 would run. Then Willie had some of the 
 whitest of rabbits, and Jennie a brood of the 
 *' cunningest" little bantam chickens that 
 ever were seen, and these must be looked 
 at, and duly admired and praised. 
 
 A busy morning they had of it, I assure 
 you, and it was nothing but " Uncle Hen- 
 ry, please go with me and see this," and 
 " Uncle Henry, do come here," and " Uncle 
 Henry, you must go with me now," until 
 their mother said she was afraid they would 
 make Uncle Henry wish he had never 
 come to visit them. But the only answer
 
 24 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 lie made her was to put back the curls 
 from Jennie's rosy cheek, and kiss the 
 darling child as she sat on his knee with 
 her soft arms clasped around his neck. 
 
 Brightly rose the sun upon the Sabbath 
 morn, and sweetly did nature return his 
 cheerincfsmile, as Henrv left his chamber 
 and walked along the narrow path that led 
 from the garden across the rustic bridge, 
 and up the hill-side to the beautiful grove 
 of maples which crowned the summit. 
 
 He was searching for a place to which 
 he might dayly retire to read God's holy 
 word, to meditate upon his goodness, and 
 to pray. And he found just what he de- 
 sired. It was a charming spot upon the 
 shady side of a great rock, over which a 
 luxuriant vine was creeping, wreathed by 
 the hand of nature into gi'aceful festoons, 
 above the mossy seat upon which he was 
 seated. Almost at his feet, a little rill 
 went singing along, leaping in fairy cas- 
 cades from rock to rock. Around him 
 the birds were singing their morning 
 songs, while the many hued flowers raised 
 their smiling faces, gemmed with diamond
 
 THE PARTY. 25 
 
 dew-drops, to meet tlie rising snn, and tlie 
 air was filled with their delicious Ira- 
 grajice. 
 
 It was a morning to lead the minds of 
 tlie devout to hoi}' thoughts ; and when 
 Henrj returned to the cottage an hour 
 later, his sister knew^ by the bright light 
 that beamed in his eye, and glowed upon 
 his features, that he ^' had been with 
 Jesus." 
 
 Joyfully passed the Sabbath, Mr. Mil- 
 der, the aged pastor, who, for almost fifty 
 years, had ministered in holy things, was 
 this day more than usually impressive. 
 He seemed to speak as one standing on 
 the very verge of eternity. How^ short 
 and fleeting seemed the present life, as 
 from the brink of the grave he glanced 
 back at his own cradled infancy, and 
 traced the path in which Providence liad 
 led him ! And how glorious and desira- 
 ble appeared the future, as it glowed in the 
 open vision of one who was standing on 
 Fisgtih's height. 
 
 The preacher had for his text tliat day, 
 the beautiful words of the Psalmist: "I
 
 26 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 have been joung, and now am old, jet 
 have I not seen the righteous forsaken, 
 nor his seed begging bread." 'No words 
 could have been more appropriate. The 
 entire history of his own life was a strik- 
 ing comment upon their truth. The 
 promise implied had been verified in 
 the dayly experience of his long and use- 
 ful labors. 
 
 Henry did not wonder, while listening 
 to that morning's discourse, so full of 
 holy faith and deep, gushing feeling, that 
 the aged divine had so strong a hold upon 
 the affections of the people. He felt that 
 he was in the presence of a master in 
 Israel. As he looked around upon that 
 crowd of intent listeners, he saw a skillful 
 hand sweeping the delicate chords of the 
 hearts. 
 
 Before the letter from Uncle Woodman 
 was received, it had been arranged that 
 Jennie and her brother should have a 
 party of their mates to visit them at Rose 
 Cottage, on the next Wednesday after- 
 noon. Mrs. Manley, however, proposed, 
 as they had company now, that the party
 
 THE PARTY. 27 
 
 should be dispensed with, at least for the 
 present. To this Uncle Henry strongly 
 objected. He loved children dearly, and 
 nothing could please him better than such 
 a gathering ; and so the party was decided 
 upon. 
 
 Willie was up betimes on Wednesday 
 morning. He ran to the window, and 
 drew aside the curtain, but could hardly 
 repress a tear when he found it raining. 
 "It is too bad !" were his first w^ords ; but 
 he checked himself in a moment, for his 
 mother had often told him that he should 
 never allow himself to be disappointed at 
 anything which his heavenly Father had 
 done. 
 
 Willie awaked his Cousin Cliarles, and 
 after dressing themselves, washing their 
 hands and faces, and combing tlieir hair, 
 they knelt down, each by his little chair, 
 silently thanked God for his care through 
 the night, and implored his blessings upon 
 them during the day. Nor did Willie 
 forget to pray for grace patiently to bear 
 his disappointment. He had thought 
 much of the party ; and the arrival of his
 
 28 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 uncle had only increased his hopes of 
 having a pleasant time. The falling rain 
 was, therefore, a severe trial to him. 
 
 When the boys went down to breakfast, 
 they found Jennie sitting by the window, 
 crying bitterly. She, too, had set her 
 heart upon the party, and was feeling 
 badly. 
 
 Willie went up to his sister and gave 
 her his usual morning hiss : and, putting 
 his arm around her tenderly, tolJ her 
 '^ot to cry, for God had made it rain." 
 Then he wiped the tears away with his 
 little handkerchief, and smoothed back 
 her beautiful hair; and Charles made 
 snch funny speeches, that she had to langh 
 in spite of her tears ; and by the time 
 Uncle Henry came down from his cham- 
 ber, the children were as smiling and as 
 eager for his kind greeting, as if it had 
 been a fine morning. 
 
 After breakfast was over, and they had 
 attended to tlie family devotions, Uncle 
 Henry asked Mr. Manley if he had a 
 rope, as he wished to make a swing for 
 the children in the barn. Mr. Manley
 
 
 WILLIE COMFORTING JENNIE
 
 THE PAKTY. 31 
 
 went up into the garret, and brought 
 down one which had been there for a 
 number of years. It was quite as strong 
 as new, and sufficiently long, Uncle Henry 
 thought, for his purpose. 
 
 Taking the rope in his hand, he went 
 out into the barn with the children, and 
 soon had his swing suspended from the 
 " great beams." Then he fitted a board 
 for a seat, upon which the children could 
 sit securely, by grasping the rope on either 
 side of them with their hands. 
 
 When all was ready, Mr. Woodman 
 requested Willie to get in, and he would 
 swing him. But Willie preferred that 
 Charles should have the first swing ; and 
 Charles thought the first chance belonged 
 to Jennie, because she was the Youngest. 
 The uncle was much pleased to see them 
 so careful of the happiness of each other ; 
 and lifting Jennie to the seat, he gave 
 her a nice swing. At first she was rather 
 timid ; but the fear soon wore ofiT, and she 
 enjoyed the sport finely. Then Charles 
 took his turn, and after him Willie. 
 
 A long time was spent in this manner.
 
 32 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 The children were in line spirits. They 
 seen.ed entirely to have forgotten their 
 bad feelings in the morning, and were as 
 happy as need be. Right merrily did 
 their laughing ring through the empty 
 barn, startling the swallows from their 
 nests, and occasioning a great twittering 
 among the feathered colony, which had set- 
 tled upon the old rafters and braces of the 
 heavily-timbered roof Out at the little 
 three-cornered "swallow-hole" they flew, 
 and in at the wide open door they plunged, 
 almost into the faces of the joyous children. 
 It was some time before the birds became 
 reconciled to the swinging process; but 
 at last they retired to their nests again. 
 And there they sat, with their little heads 
 peering over the sides, and their sharp, 
 twinkling eyes watching every movement 
 of the company below, looking "so cun- 
 ning," that little laughing Jennie clapped 
 her hands in wildest glee. 
 
 So busy had Henry and the children 
 been, that none of them had noticed the 
 fact tliat the rain had ceased, and a briglit 
 belt of clear, blue sky was skirting the
 
 THE PARTY. 83 
 
 west, lifting every moment the clouds 
 higher and higher, and giving promise of 
 a beautiful afternoon. When, therefore, 
 tliey turned to leave their sport, and Mr. 
 Woodman was about to open his umbrella, 
 to protect himself and Jennie from the rain, 
 lo, the rain was gone, and the sun was 
 just struggling through the parting clouds. 
 
 Preparations were now commenced in 
 earnest for tlie party. Playthings were all 
 arranged ; hoops, balls, bats, etc., for the 
 boys ; and grace-hoops, shuttle-cocks, bat- 
 tle-doors, and picture-books for the girls. 
 Uncle Henr}^ had to be consulted a score 
 of times, and his opinion was law with the 
 happy trio. 
 
 " How lucky that uncle thought of the 
 swing," said Willie. 
 
 " Yes ; and what beautiful bats he has 
 made for us," replied Charles. 
 
 "And only see my new grace-hoop ;" 
 and Jennie held up her prize, neatly trim- 
 med with ribbons. " And what cunning 
 sticks to play with. O, Nellie and I shall 
 have such a good time " 
 
 Dinner was announced, but so happy
 
 34 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 were the children, and so full of expecta- 
 tion that thej had little appetite for food. 
 Jennie waited as patiently as she could for 
 her mother to tinish the work in the kitch- 
 en, and then they retired to prepare for 
 tlie company. Willie and Charles, attired 
 in their best, were already out by the front 
 gate, impatiently awaiting the arrival of 
 their guests. 
 
 In due time all was ready, and the sister 
 joined her brother and cousin, looking as 
 charming as the flowers blooming by her 
 side. The children began to arrive about 
 two o'clock, and in half an hour the min- 
 gling of more than a score of happy voices 
 " made sucli music in the little cottage," 
 Uncle Henry said, "as angels might de- 
 light to hear." 
 
 A happier company never played be- 
 neath the Old Elm, or chased each other 
 down the broad, smooth walk of the neat 
 garden, or scampered across tlie rustic 
 bridge, or gathered wild flowers beside 
 the singing brooklet. Yery happy, too, 
 was Uncle Henry, as he sat at the window, 
 and watched their joyous gambols.
 
 THE PARTY. 35 
 
 As the hour for tea drew near, Willie 
 and Charles came running into the cot- 
 tage with a new thouo:ht in their heads. 
 *' MIglit they have supper out under the 
 Old Elm-tree ? It would be so pretty." 
 
 Yes, mother was willing ; and away the 
 children bounded to carry the important 
 news to their mates. A loud "* Hurra !" 
 arose from the company, and those in the 
 cottage knew that the matter was ''ap- 
 proved." 
 
 The long table was carried out, and cov- 
 ered with a clean white cloth, the pretty 
 china set arranged, the biscuit came smok- 
 ing from the oven, and all was ready for 
 tea. Then the large dinner bell was rung, 
 and the children came crowding into the 
 yard, their cheeks glowing, and their eyes 
 beaming with joy, and stood around at a 
 respectful distance. 
 
 They were then seated at the table, the 
 girls on the right and the boys on the left 
 of Mrs. Mardey, who was seated at the 
 head. Before her were two huge pitchei*s. 
 One was full of fresh sweet milk, the other 
 of clear, sparkling water. It needed no
 
 36 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 ice to make it co@l, for it had just come 
 from the old well in the " moss-covered 
 bucket." Henry sat at the foot of the ta- 
 ble, opposite his sister. 
 
 A pleasant sight it was to see that com- 
 pany of children reverently bow their 
 heads and fold their hands, as the Divine 
 blessing was asked. O, that happy child- 
 hood might never feel the polluting in- 
 fluence of sin ! 
 
 The sun was still high in the west, for 
 the days are long in June, as the children 
 arose from the table and returned to their 
 sports. What sh-ould they do ? Many 
 games were proposed, but each had been 
 played in turn, and was therefore aban- 
 doned. But what should they do ? Wil- 
 liam has .sogiething to suggest. "Yes, 
 that's just the thing; capital!" is 
 shouted by all ; and away he ran to ask 
 Henry. 
 
 " Would Uncle Henry please tell them 
 a story ; or talk to them ; ov preach them 
 a little sermon f The boys all wanted 
 him to do so, and so did the girls. AVould 
 he?"
 
 THE PARTY. 37 
 
 " Yes ; Uncle Henry would be glad to, 
 if they desired it." 
 
 Such was the question, and such the 
 answer, as the two boys returned from 
 their mission. And then another " Hur- 
 ra!" and the joyous clapping of half a 
 score of little girls' hands, as they bounded 
 away to the Old Elm, beneath which Uncle 
 Henry was still seated, told how heartily 
 they entered into the plan. 
 
 The "Old Elm," so often referred to, 
 was indeed a noble tree. Its ample trunk 
 had braved the frosts of many winters, and 
 its wide-spreading branches, drooping like 
 the weeping willow, had been swayed by 
 the breathings of a imndred springs. 
 
 The year before, the young man who 
 had worked for Mr, Manley had made a 
 summer-house up among the branches, 
 capable of holding from twelve to twenty 
 persons. It was well protected on all 
 sides by a firm railing.* But Willie's 
 father, fearing that the children might 
 meet with some accident, should he per- 
 mit ilieni to have free access to this place, 
 
 ^ See Frontispiece. 
 3
 
 38 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 had removed the steps leading to it, and 
 they were now standing in the wood- 
 house. 
 
 These Uncle Henry had observed, and 
 the thought now occurred to him, that the 
 old tree would be a most charming place 
 for their meeting. He therefore named it 
 to his sister, and she readily approved his 
 plan. 
 
 Henry brought out the steps from 
 the wood-house, and placed them firmly 
 against the tree. Then he took a broom, 
 and went up to see that all was safe, and 
 to sweep out the old dried leaves and dust 
 which had gathered there during the past 
 months. The children were then handed 
 up, and what a happy company they 
 were! How funny it seemed to be up 
 there among the branches, all seated 
 around on the four seats of their little 
 platform, with Henry at their head ! " O, 
 it was beautiful !"
 
 THE MANNEK OF PRAYER. 39 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 YE.' 
 
 "Well, children, what shall we talk 
 about?" asked Henry, after all had been 
 comfortably seated and quiet was restored. 
 
 " Anything you please," chimed half a 
 dozen voices in reply. 
 
 " Well, then, let me ask you a question, 
 and I want you to answer it by holding 
 up your hands: How many of you pray 
 every day ?" 
 
 Nearly all the children held up their 
 hands in answer to this question. They 
 were mostly from pious families, and had. 
 been taught to bow at their mother's 
 knee, and offer their morning and even- 
 ing prayers. 
 
 " Do you know what prayer is ?" again 
 asked the uncle. 
 
 They glanced at each other for a few 
 moments in silence. Some of them
 
 40 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 thought they could tell, but they didn't 
 exactly like to say so, for fear they were 
 wrong. At last, little Ella Andei-son, a 
 bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked girl of some 
 six sumraers, broke the silence, and 
 said : 
 
 "Saying, 'Our Father,' isn't it?" 
 
 This was her name for the Lord's Pray- 
 er. Some of the older children smiled at 
 this answer of the little girl, but Mr. 
 "Woodman replied : 
 
 "Yes, Ella, that is indeed a beautiful 
 prayer. But do you not think that we 
 could repeat the Lord's Prayer, and yet 
 not pray at all ?" 
 
 Ella was silent. Henry looked at the 
 others, but no one seemed disposed to 
 venture an answer. 
 
 ^ " Suppose," he continued, " any of you, 
 while at school, should read this prayer 
 in your morniDg lesson, do you think you 
 would pray then ?" 
 
 They didn't think they would ; but no 
 one was able to give tlie reason why. 
 
 " Certain things," resumed Mr. Wood- 
 man. " are necessary to constitute prayer.
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 41 
 
 It is evident, even to you, that every per- 
 son who repeats the words of a prayer, 
 does not really pray. We may teach a 
 parrot or a magpie to repeat the words of 
 a prayer, but would the birds, therefore, 
 pray ?" 
 
 " ISTo, sir," was responded on all sides. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Henry. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Woodman, a bird carCt 
 pray! how funny!" answered Ella. All 
 tl^e children laughed at the idea of a bird's 
 ])raying. The idea was, as Ellen said, so 
 ''''funny /" 
 
 " Yet the parrot can be taught to say 
 ' Our Father,' Ella ; why, then, does not 
 the bird pray ?" 
 
 Ko one could answer this question, 
 though. all were confident that a parrot 
 couldn't pray. 
 
 "If you will listen attentively, I will 
 try to explain the matter to you," said 
 ]\[r. Woodman. 
 
 Rvery eye was upon him. He had in- 
 troduced the subject in such a novel man- 
 ner as to interest them. Their curiosity 
 had been awakened, and at the same
 
 42 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 time their reason was called into exercise. 
 They were, therefore, all attention. 
 
 " I said," continued Mr. Woodman, 
 " that certain things were necessary to 
 constitute prayer. I am going to tell you 
 what some of those things are ; and I will 
 try and make them so plain that all may 
 understand. First I will state my propo- 
 sitions, and then prove and illustrate 
 them." 
 
 " What is a proposition^ uncle ?" asked 
 Willie. 
 
 *'A proposition is something that is 
 affirmed, but which requires proof: as 
 when I say, Sin leads to misery. Such 
 an assertion we call a proposition. All 
 persons do not believe that sin leads to 
 misery. We must, therefore, prove it. 
 So, too, when I say, ' Vi^rtiious self-denial 
 is productive of happiness^'' I announce a 
 proposition which requires proof. There 
 are many who do not believe this. They 
 say with one of old, ' Eat, drink, and be 
 merry.' They do just what tliey desire 
 to do, and think this is the only way to 
 be happy. Do you now understand what
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 43 
 
 I mean by a proposition? if so, hold up 
 your hands." 
 
 All hands were immediately up, and 
 Henry proceeded : 
 
 " The question which we are now con- 
 sidering is this: What is real prayer? 
 Or, in other words. What is necessary in 
 order that a person may truly pray ? This 
 we call the general question. To answer 
 this question understandingly, we must 
 examine it in all its bearings. In every 
 prayer there are three things to be con- 
 sidered : 
 
 "1. The person who prays. 
 
 " 2. The person prayed to. 
 
 *' 3. The thing prayed for. 
 
 *' My first proposition, therefore, is this : 
 
 "1. To pra/y truly we must feel our 
 need of assistance. 
 
 "The very idea of prayer is to ask a 
 favor. When we pray we desire some- 
 thing which we do not now possess, do 
 wc not ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered the children. 
 
 "But can we desire a thing unless we 
 feel our need of it?"
 
 44 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " 'No, sir," was replied by a few. Oth- 
 ers, however, did not feel quite satisfied 
 with this answer. Eobert Preston in par- 
 ticular, a boy about Willie's age, had 
 something to say. 
 
 "Well, Eobert, what is it?" asked 
 Henry with an encouraging smile. He 
 liked to have the children ask questions; 
 he could then tell just what they w'ere 
 thinking about. 
 
 "I was thinking, Mr. Woodman," re- 
 plied the boy, "that men do sometimes 
 desire what they do not need.^^ 
 
 " Can you mention an instance, Eobert?" 
 asked Uncle Henry. 
 
 " Yes, sir; I heard father reading in the 
 papers yesterday, about a man in a large 
 city, who had been a street-beggar for 
 many years. Everybody thought he was 
 extremel}^ poor, because he dressed in 
 such dirty, ragged garments, and appeared 
 so miserable, and out of pity they gave 
 him money. But the paper stated that 
 he had recently died, and when his little 
 garret was searched, large sums of gold 
 and silver were found hidden away in old
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 45 
 
 shoes and boxes. Indeed, he was quite a 
 rich man, and might have lived like a 
 gentleman. Did he desire money because 
 he needed it, Mr. Woodman ?" 
 
 " In one sense he did, and in another 
 he did not. True, he did not need it 
 to make him cornfortable. But why 
 did the people give him focnl and mon- 
 ey?" 
 
 " Because they thought he was poor," 
 replied Robert. 
 
 " Certainly. Had they not believed 
 this they would not have listened to him. 
 Even in this case, then, necessity was the 
 apparent foundation of his prayers for 
 assistance. 
 
 "But, children, did not. this poor man 
 need money to make him happy V^ 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered a chorus of 
 voices. 
 
 " He thought he did," replied Robert 
 after tlie others had responded. 
 
 "True, Robert," replied Henry, "and 
 very wisely answered too. He thought 
 he could not be happy unless he was dayly 
 increasing his store; and lie therefore con-
 
 46 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 tinned to beg long after all his real wants 
 had been supplied. 
 
 " I believe it is a principle, which is 
 generally acknowledged as correct, that 
 we cannot desire what we do not wish to 
 possess, and we must think we need the 
 thing, or we shall not desire it. Should I 
 go out in a (?51d winter day, I should wish 
 for an overcoat. But suppose the day 
 was warm, should I desire it then ?" 
 
 " Xo, sir." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Yon would be warm enough without 
 it," answered Charles. 
 
 " True, Charles, I should have no desire 
 for such a garment in August, because I 
 should feel no need of it, but I should be 
 very glad of it in January." 
 
 " But, sir," said Susan Perkins, a little 
 girl of eleven, " I sometimes desire thing-s 
 that I do not need." 
 
 "Ah, Susie, do you remember an in- 
 stance ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. The other evening at tea I 
 wanted another piece of cake. Mother 
 thought I had already eaten enough, ancj
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 47 
 
 she said I did not need it. I knew just as 
 well as she did that I didn't need it, for I 
 had eaten a very hearty supper, but still 
 I desired the cake, and almost cried be- 
 cause mother refused my request." 
 
 "You did not need it to satisfy your 
 hunger^ did you ?" 
 
 " ISTo, sir." 
 
 " But did you not need the cake to sat- 
 isfy your taste^ your love for sweet 
 things ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I suppose I did." 
 
 "Should you have desired it if it had 
 been bitter ?" 
 
 "No, indeed. I loved it because it 
 Avas so sweet and nice." 
 
 " And because you could not get it your 
 ■^aste was unsatisfied ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Your necessity, then, arose from a dif- 
 ferent cause. And the same is true in 
 regard to many things that we desire. 
 Charles and Willie desired to have you 
 come and spend this afternoon with them, 
 because they thought they needed your 
 company to make them happy; and you
 
 48 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 wished to come because joii thought yon 
 needed the visit to make you happy. 
 Then you all desired to have your tea out 
 nnder the Old Elm. The biscuit, and tarts, 
 and pies would have tasted just as nice in 
 the house as here, but you thought you 
 needed the jyleasure of a supper in the 
 front yard to make you happy, and so 
 Willie made the request. 
 
 "Thus you see that in all common 
 matters, our desires spring from our 
 fancied or real wants. If we need a thing 
 to make us either comfortable 'or happy, 
 we can desire it, otherwise not. 
 
 "So, too, in regard to spiritual things. 
 Unless we feel our need of God's help, 
 we shall not seek it ; and unless we feel 
 our need of salvation, we shall not ask to 
 be saved. Let me relate a little incident 
 to illustrate this point. 
 
 "During my last year in college, a young 
 man entered the freshman class. He was 
 wild and gay. He seemed to love pleas- 
 ure better than anything else. Card play- 
 ing, visiting, attending parties, and danc- 
 ing were his chief delight. These, the
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 49 
 
 rules of the college forbid ; but still he 
 found means to deceive the faculty and 
 enjoy his pleasures. 
 
 " Christians admonished and exhorted 
 him to turn from so dangerous a course. 
 They pointed out the extreme folly and 
 sin of such a life. He was deceiving his 
 best friends, his loving parents, and con- 
 fiding teachers. They pointed him to the 
 safer and happier way, the way of obe- 
 dience to God. He heard his class-mates 
 tell of the superior joys of religion, heard 
 their prayers, and their exhortations. 
 But he did not feel the need of religion. 
 In vigorous health, with plenty of money 
 at his command, and surrounded by friends 
 as light-hearted and gay as himself, he saw 
 no necessity for changing his course. He 
 was well enough as he was, he thought. 
 
 "Thus months passed. At length he 
 was taken sick. The doctor pronounced 
 his disease typhoid fever. He grew rap- 
 idly worse, and was told that he must die. 
 I had often labored with him, and urged 
 him to seek Christ ; but he had ever been 
 deaf to my exhortations.
 
 50 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "One night, about twelve, a friend 
 came in haste, requesting me to go im- 
 mediately to the sick man's room, as he 
 was desirous of seeing me. I went, and 
 found him in dreadful agony of mind. 
 I could hear him wildly praying, even 
 before I reached his door. I had no sooner 
 entered than he cried out in a voice of in- 
 tense anguish : 
 
 '"Henry, I am lost! O that I had 
 listened to you! I slighted your warn- 
 ings while in health, and now I am dying 
 without hope ! Lost! lost! lost!' 
 
 " Dreadful, indeed, was the anguish of 
 that dying sinner. Wildly and passion- 
 ately did he pray. He felt his need of 
 pardon. All the pleasures he had enjoy- 
 ed could now afford him no consolation. 
 
 " ' O, Henry, pray for me ! Pray ! 
 pray !' was his agonizing cry. 
 
 "I knelt by his bedside and tried to 
 pray; but even while thus engaged, I 
 could hear the poor ruined sinner cry- 
 ing, in a suppressed voice, 'Lost! lost! 
 lost !' 
 
 "I left him as the morning was break-
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 51 
 
 ing, still wildly praying. That day he 
 died, died without hope. 
 
 "This young man did not desire re- 
 ligion, until he felt that he was lost with- 
 out it. Then he cried unto God. But 
 did he not need it just as much while in 
 health as when he became sick?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," the children replied. 
 
 "Yery true, my young friends. But 
 still lie would not acknowledge this neces- 
 sity. Had he considered the subject, he 
 would have felt his need of Christ. 
 
 "Such was also the case with Paul. 
 He was a proud, self-willed Pharisee. 
 When that good man, Stephen, was being 
 stoned to death, he stood and looked 
 coldly on. He had no words of comfort 
 for the poor suffering Christian; but he 
 urged on the cruel men who were taking 
 his innocent life. But when God struck 
 liim down at noonday, while on his way 
 to Damascus to persecute the Christians 
 there, and covered the proud man's eyes 
 with scales, so that he groped his way in 
 the darkness for three whole days, then 
 ho felt his need of Divine hel[) ; and
 
 52 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 it was said of him, ' Behold^ he jpray- 
 ethP 
 
 ''The point that we are now consider- 
 ing is a very important one. You have 
 seen, dear children, a babe in its mother's 
 arms. How helpless the infant lies. 
 Should the mother withdraw her loving 
 arms, how quickly the little one would 
 fall! Should she not heed its wants, 
 how soon it would perish ! What can it 
 do for itself? What effort can it make 
 to gain food, or clothing, or shelter? 
 None whatever. It is truly helpless. 
 
 " But we are still more dependent upon 
 our heavenly Father, than is that little 
 infant upon its mother. He gives us 
 the very air we breathe, and the food 
 we eat. We live because he cares for us. 
 Every day we need these common bless- 
 ings. 
 
 " Then, too, we are sinners. We have 
 disobeyed God. We have refused to love 
 him and serve him. AYe need pardon, 
 and to be washed in the blood of Christ. 
 If this is not granted, we shall be lost in 
 eternity. To enter heaven we must be
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 53 
 
 holy. God only can make us so. How 
 much, then, do we need to pray! 
 
 "But, children, to pray acceptably, we 
 must have something besides a sense of 
 our need of help. Our next proposition, 
 then, is this : 
 
 "2. To pray acceptably, we tnust have 
 confidence in God. 
 
 "If we do not believe that God is both 
 able and willing to help us, we shall not 
 be likely to ask him. The poor beggar 
 does not ask alms of those who are poor 
 as himself, for he has no confidence in 
 their ability to assist him. Neither does 
 he ask of those who have often refused to 
 give, and have turned from him with 
 coldness and disgust; for he cannot 
 have faith in their willingness to help 
 him. 
 
 "To pray acceptably, we must have 
 confidence in the ability of our heavenly 
 Father to hear and answer our prayers. 
 If God were not able to grant our requests, 
 would it be of any use for us to make 
 them?" 
 
 " No, sir," answered the children. 
 4
 
 54 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "And is he able?" 
 
 "Yes, sir/' 
 
 "What makes you think so?" 
 
 To this question there was no im- 
 mediate response. At length, Willie 
 ventured to suggest, rather inquiringly: 
 
 "God is very great, is he not, uncle?" 
 
 "Yes, Willie, God is infinitely great. 
 His 2yower h mfimte. Nothing, therefore, 
 is too great for him to do. His wisdom is 
 infinite. He knows, therefore, in every 
 case, just what ought to be done. Men 
 are sometimes in doubt ; but God never is. 
 lie also fills all space, and is e'^erywhert 
 jprese7it. Hence he is always near us to 
 hear and answer our prayei-s. It matters 
 not, dear children, where we are, or how 
 we are situated, God can hear us, and he 
 can help us. 
 
 "But we should not only have confi- 
 dence in the ability of our heavenly 
 Father, but in his willingness, likewise, 
 to grant us the things we pray for. Can 
 you remember any texts of Scripture to* 
 prove that God is willing to he ^^ prayer J 
 If so, please raise your hands."
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 55 
 
 A few hands were up immediately. 
 Others were raised slowly, showing that 
 there was some doubt in the mind 
 in regard to the fitness of the texts 
 thought of. 
 
 " AVell, E"athan, we will hear your 
 proof text," said Mr, Woodman, address- 
 ing a modest little fellow who sat by the 
 side of Charles. His was the first hand 
 raised, and Henry, therefore, called upon 
 him first. 
 
 " ' Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, 
 that will I do, that the Father may be 
 glorified in the Son,' " replied ^N'athan. 
 
 " A very precious promise, and directly 
 to the point. Now, Ella, we will hear 
 yours." 
 
 " ' Ask, and it shall be given you,' " re- 
 plied the little girl. How sweetly sound- 
 ed this precious promise from the lips of 
 the innocent child. Henry felt its power, 
 and his heart responded to its truth. 
 
 " Never forget that promise, dear Ella ; 
 but in every time of trial or of doubt, re- 
 member it is written, ''Ask^ and it shall he 
 given you.'' No matter what the blessing
 
 56 VOICES FEOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 is which you need, it is included in the 
 promise. Go to your Father in heaven, 
 'ask,' and you shall 'receive.'" 
 
 The following texts, among many oth- 
 ers, were also given by the children : 
 
 " Hitherto have ye asked nothing in my 
 name : ask, and ye shall receive, that your 
 joy may be full." 
 
 "If any of you lack wisdom, let him 
 ask of God, that giveth to all men lib- 
 erally, and upbraideth not; and it shall 
 be given him." 
 
 " Whatsoever we ask we receive of him, 
 because we keep his commandments, and 
 do those things which are pleasing in his 
 sight." 
 
 "And this is the confidence that we have 
 in him, that, if we ask anything according 
 to his will, he heareth us : and we know 
 that we have the petitions that we desired 
 of him." 
 
 " Such, dear children," continued Hen- 
 ry, " are some of the many promises which 
 prove the willingness of God to hear 
 prayer. And then, too, we have the fact 
 that he always has heard and answered
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 57 
 
 the prayers of his children. The Lord 
 heard Moses when he prayed for the re- 
 bellious Israelites. He hearkened also at 
 the Red Sea, and at the rock in the 
 wilderness, and on the banks of Jordan. 
 He heard, too, the prayer of David, and 
 forgave his great sin, and made him sing 
 for joy. ^ Daniel prayed to God, while in 
 the lions' den, and God heard him, and 
 sent one of his bright angels to shut the 
 lions' mouths, so that they could not harm 
 Daniel. Stephen prayed while the wick- 
 ed Je^s were stoning him to death, and 
 God opened the windows of heaven and 
 let the dying martyr look in upon the 
 glory ; and Stephen was so overcome with 
 the beauty of his heavenly home, that, in 
 the triumphs of his soul, he almost forgot 
 the pains of death ! 
 
 "Yes, my young friends, God hears 
 prayer. Nothing is truer than this. 
 When, therefore, you are in trouble, go 
 and pray to him. 
 
 " But there is one other thing to attend 
 to, if we would so pray as to receive an 
 answer to our prayers.
 
 58 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "3. We must pray for those things 
 which are according to his will. 
 
 " We read in 1 John v, 4 : ' And this 
 is the confidence that we have iD him, 
 that, if we ask anything according to his 
 will., he heareth ns.' God would not hear 
 me if I should pray for a fortune, that I 
 might spend it in pleasure and folly. 
 This would not be ' according to his will.' 
 But it' is according to the will of God that 
 our sins should be pardoned, and our hearts 
 cleansed from all sin. He wills, also, that 
 we should have strength to resist tempta- 
 tion, and grace to overcome evil with good. 
 
 " Every one of these boys and girls may 
 have a gentle spirit, and be happy all the 
 day long. And not only so, but you may 
 make others happy around you. You 
 may become just Hke a sunbeam, cheer- 
 ing every dark place, and gladdening 
 every sorrowing heart. This is God's 
 will. 
 
 "Now, boys, let us 'sum up the argu- 
 ment,' as the lawyers say." 
 
 "What does that mean, Mr. Wood- 
 man ?" asked Robert.
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 69 
 
 "To sum up the argument is to repeat 
 the propositions, with their proofs, in the 
 fewest words possible; so that we may 
 have the wliole subject directly before 
 the mind. Will you tell me, Willie, what 
 the main question is?" 
 
 "I will try, Uncle," replied the boy. 
 ^*If I remember rightly, it is this: What 
 is necessary in order that we may pray 
 truly?" " , 
 
 "Yes, Willie, that is the question. 
 N-ow, Robert, will you repeat the first 
 proposition," 
 
 "Jb ^ray truly we must fed our need 
 of assistance^'' replied Robert 
 
 "Very well. Nathan, if you please, 3'ou 
 may tell us in as few words as possible 
 what the arguments were which we used 
 to sustain that proposition." 
 
 " I will try, sir, though I fear I shall 
 not do it very well. Is this it ? To pray 
 is to ask a favor : but we shall not ask a 
 favor unless we wish to possess it, and we 
 shall not wish to possess it unless w^e feel 
 in some way our need of it," 
 
 "Very finely done, Nathan. You have
 
 60 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 not attended so closely to what has been 
 said for nothing, I perceive. Charles, you 
 may give the second proposition." 
 
 '^To^ray acceptcMy we must have con- 
 fidence in God^'' replied the boy. 
 
 "Eight; and now for the argument." 
 
 "I think," replied Charles, "it consisted 
 of two parts : 
 
 "1. Confidence in the ability of God. 
 Unless we believed he was able to grant 
 our desires, we should not call upon him. 
 To show this ability, it was said that God 
 had infinite power^ infinite wisdom, and 
 wa^ everywhere present. Thus he could 
 do all things, and Tcnew all that needed 
 to be done, and was always present to 
 help. 
 
 "2. Confidence in the willingness of 
 God. That he was willing to hear our 
 prayers was shown from two sources — the 
 Bible, and Christian experience in all 
 ages of the Church." 
 
 "Right, Charles, and done like a law- 
 yer. But I must not let the boys do all 
 the thinking for us. Jennie, you are a 
 little girl, but your bright eyes have
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 61 
 
 seemed to flash through all that has been 
 said ; and I think you must have under- 
 stood it. Can you repeat the third prop- 
 osition ?" 
 
 Jennie blushed, and wished people 
 would not say so much about her eyes. 
 How could she help it, if her eyes were 
 bright ! She kept these thoughts to her- 
 self, however, and replied to Henry's 
 question : 
 
 "We must pray according to the will 
 of God. Is that it, uncle ?" 
 
 " Yes, Jennie ; and how did we prove 
 it, ISTellie ?" he asked of " sweet ISTellie 
 Ely," Jennie's most intimate playmate. 
 
 " From the Bible, sir," replied the 
 girl. 
 
 " Yes ; but do you recollect the pas- 
 sage?" 
 
 " It was 1 John v, 14 ; but I have for- 
 gotten the exact words." 
 
 "Never mind. You may all find them 
 in your Testaments when you return home. 
 But it is almost sunset, and we must not 
 talk longer at this time." 
 
 Henry had just at that moment noticed
 
 62 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 the beautiful sunset. The distant hills 
 were glowing in the golden rays of the 
 sun, which rested upon their tops like 
 crowns of diamonds. The scene filled 
 his soul with gladness; for he saw in it 
 the smile of his Father in heaven. 
 
 The children earnestly w^hispered to- 
 gether for a few moments. " Would he 
 do it?" was asked. Willie thought he 
 would, Charles Tcnew he would : he 
 was ''^so goocV Who should ask him? 
 Why Robert, to be sure; and all were 
 still as Robert arose to speak : 
 
 " Mr. Woodman, the children have 
 asked me to thank you for your kindness 
 this afternoon. We have all been very 
 happy. We never understood before, so 
 well as we now do, how we ought to pray, 
 so as to be heard and answered. But we 
 want to have you tell us more about this 
 matter. We should be very happy if 
 you would have another meeting up here 
 in the 'Old Elm.' We will all try to 
 come. Will you, Mr. Woodman?" and 
 Robert resumed his seat. 
 
 ^'I, too, have been very happy this
 
 THE MANNER OF PRAYER. 68 
 
 afternoon,'' replied Henry. "I do not 
 think I shall ever forget this hour, or this 
 meeting in the Old Elm ; and I shall be 
 very happy to meet you not only once 
 more, but many times, in this beautiful 
 place. I would like to have a good many 
 talks with you. I want you all to be 
 good children, not only kind and obedient 
 to your parents, and loving and obliging 
 to each other, but Christians also." 
 
 And so it was agreed they should meet 
 every Saturday afternoon, at two o'clock, 
 in the " Old Elm." 
 
 Before they left their beautiful seat in 
 the tree they all knelt down, and Uncle 
 Henry prayed. How earnestly he sup- 
 plicated at the " mercy-seat" for those 
 precious lambs of the fold ! He felt all 
 that he had taught them of the nature of 
 prayer, and poured out his soul as one 
 dependent upon his heavenly Father. He 
 had confidence, too, in God, and knew 
 he was both able and willing to keep that 
 youthful company from the snares and 
 pit-falls of sin. And surely this was ac- 
 cording to the Divine will. O, how easy
 
 64 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 to have faith in behalf of artless child- 
 hood ! 
 
 They descended from the tree ; and as 
 the children left for home, they thought 
 they had never passed an afternoon so 
 pleasantly ,^r seen such a "nice man" as 
 Mr. Woodma^.
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 65 
 
 CHAPTER TV. 
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 
 
 About two miles from Rose Cottage 
 was a momitain, which was known in 
 that region as Mount Pleasant. It was 
 a beautiful elevation and a favorite resort, 
 especially for all such strangers as came 
 from the less hilly portions of the country. 
 
 The sides of this mountain were covered 
 with a thick growth of forest-trees. Tall 
 maples with their giant trunks, beeches, 
 birches of various kinds, with the nu- 
 fnerous family of evergreens, among 
 which the hemlock and spruce were 
 chief These, and various others, all 
 mingled as if by a skillful hand, pre- 
 sented a picture of great beauty. And 
 especially when the early frost of autumn 
 came and touched the foliage with its 
 magic fingers, these forests wore a most 
 enchanting aspect. Indeed, one might 
 almost fancy the old mountain some huge
 
 66 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 giant, dressed in robes d^^ed in the gor- 
 geoiis s]3lendors of the setting sun. And 
 the cap of white granite, intei"spersed 
 with clear specimens of mica, which 
 crowned the mountain's top, sparkhng 
 and flashing in the oblique rays of the 
 rising and setting sun, like the diamond 
 coronet of some old monarch, certainly 
 did not do much toward dispelling this 
 illusion. Hence the name Mount Pleas- 
 ant. 
 
 Another curious feature of this mount- 
 ain was, that almost on its very top was 
 a beautiful pond. It was of circular form, 
 some twenty-five rods in diameter, with 
 steep, rough banks; and so deep were 
 its waters, that some simple people fully 
 believed them bottomless. Protected on 
 one side by the overhanging crown of 
 granite, which rested upon the brow of 
 the mounfain king, and on all others by 
 steep banks and overhanging trees, its 
 placid bosom was seldom disturbed by 
 the rude winds which went sweeping 
 past. 
 
 Where the inlet to this pond was.
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 67 
 
 none knew ; and how it came there few 
 could guess. And yet it was always 
 full ; and out of a narrow fissure, which 
 seemed worn in the solid rock, issued a 
 stream of pure, cold water, which needed 
 no ice, even in the hottest days of sum- 
 mer, to make it cool ; and away down the 
 mountain side it hurried, leaping and 
 dashing from rock to rock, sinfyin<x on its 
 way, and dancing to its own wild music, 
 till it reached the plains below. 
 
 The pond and stream were plentifully 
 supplied with a peculiar kind of trout, 
 whose delicious flavor caused them to be 
 prized as a choice dish. It was for the 
 double purpose of angling for these fish, 
 and obtaining a view of the surrounding 
 country from the mountain's top, that 
 Uncle Henry and the boys planned an 
 excursion for the coming Wednesday. 
 
 Wednesday morning came, and they 
 were up long before the sun had risen ; 
 and just as his first beams were kissing 
 the mountain's brow they started on their 
 way. 
 
 A brisk walk of a quarter of an hour
 
 G8 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 brought them to the mountain's base. 
 Here tliej prepared their fishing tackle; 
 and, finding the stream, commenced their 
 ascent. It was some time before they 
 caught any fish, as this part of the stream 
 was constantly visited by the boys in the 
 neighborhood, who, if they did not catch 
 many fish, succeeded fully in frighten- 
 ing them back toward their mountain 
 home. 
 
 It was a charming morning. The sun was 
 cloudless ; and his rays, as they came strug- 
 gling through the thick foliage which cov- 
 ered the trees, fell upon the dancing stream 
 like a shower of molten gold. All around 
 was profound silence, broken only by the 
 distant hum of the busy vale below, the 
 lowing of the herds, and the occasional 
 chattering of a squirrel as he nibbled the 
 cones of some tall hemlock. 
 
 They had a pleasant time in following 
 up the stream to its source, and caught a 
 fine string of fish before they reached the 
 pond. Their beautiful sides, covered with 
 bright spots, glistened like pieces of 
 polished silver as Uncle Henry laved
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 69 
 
 them in the cool water of the mountain 
 lake. 
 
 Leaving their fish here, the party pro- 
 ceeded immediately to the mountain's 
 top. 
 
 Neither Henry nor Charles had ever 
 been there before, and the scene was 
 therefore entirely new to them. It was 
 indeed beautiful. For miles away no ob- 
 ject obstructed their view. On every 
 side tlie country was smiling with culti- 
 vated fields, green pastures, groves and 
 woodlands, dressed in the rich, heavy gar- 
 ments of a June foliage, while ponds, scat- 
 tered here and there, and rivulets, brooks, 
 and larger streams, winding through the 
 green fields and across the meadows, like 
 threads of silver, gave an indescribable 
 charm to the landscape. 
 
 Many villages, too, were in sight ; nest- 
 ling down in the valleys, or resting like 
 crowns upon the hills, with their rows of 
 white houses with green blinds, that uni- 
 versal Yankee fashion, and the spires of 
 their neat cliurches pointing to heaven. 
 Farm-houses and solitarv cottairos dotted
 
 70 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 the picture as far as the eye could reach. 
 Groups of men were seen laboring in the 
 fields. The flocks and herds, satisfied with 
 the abundant herbage, were now gathered 
 beneath the shade of the scattered trees 
 and rocks. Altogether it was a beautiful 
 landscape. 
 
 It was some time before Willie could 
 be made to believe that the little cottage, 
 almost at the very foot of the mountainyand 
 which appeared to him scarcely larger 
 than a good sized bird-house <iould be his 
 own home. The "Old Elm'^ seemed 
 about as lai'ge as a very small apple- 
 tree. 
 
 Just then a little white-looking object 
 came creeping out. at the front door of the 
 little house, and seemed to crawl at a 
 very slow pace down toward the narrow 
 road. Willie and Charles thought it must 
 be Bell, their pet white kitten. Uncle 
 Henry said it was probably Jennie; but 
 the boys laughed right heartily at the idea 
 that Jennie should be such a " wee bit " 
 of a thing as that. "Why, it was not 
 larger than Jennie's doll !"
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 71 
 
 "And so, boys, you do not believe that 
 is Jennie, do you?" said Mr; Woodman. 
 
 " No, indeed, uncle, we do not ! Sister 
 is almost as tall as I am," replied "Willie. 
 
 " Well, we will see ;" and Mr. Wood- 
 man took from his pocket a pocket spy- 
 glass, and adjusted it to his eye. After 
 directing it toward the cottage for a mo- 
 ment, he said : 
 
 " Willie, please come here, and tell me 
 how much that little white speck, standing 
 there by the front gate, looks like Kitty 
 Bell." 
 
 Willie and Charles both came to Mr. 
 Woodman, who held the instrument still 
 directed at the white object. Willie put 
 his eye to the little glass in the smaller 
 end. Scarcely had he done so when he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Why, it is Jennie, as sure as we are 
 here. There she is, leaning over the gate, 
 looking right up here at us. Do you think 
 she sees us, uncle ?" * 
 
 "I hardly think she does, Willie," re- 
 plied Uncle Ilenr}', as the boy left his 
 place to give Charles an opportunity to
 
 72 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 take a look. "She might, perhaps, if 
 we should all stand up together," he con- 
 tinued. 
 
 Charles was as much delighted in look- 
 ing through the spy-glass as Willie had 
 been. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Woodman, Jennie is right 
 here ! I declare I have a good mind to 
 speak to her. Could she hear me ?" 
 
 " I rather think not ; but yon can try it 
 if you wish. Would you speak through 
 the glass, Charles ?" replied Uncle Henry, 
 laughing. 
 
 Charles blushed, thinking somehow he 
 had made a very foolish blunder, but 
 surely he could not tell how. Did he not 
 see his cousin right before him as plainly 
 as he ever saw her in his life ? Could he 
 not almost see the piece of cake she was 
 eating, and the string of coral round her 
 neck? Could he not almost count the 
 spots upon her muslin frock ; and why, 
 then, could he not Speak to her ? 
 
 Little Charlie had never before seen a 
 spy-glass, and he did not undei*stand why 
 a person who appeared to be only a very
 
 MOUNT PLEASANT. 78 
 
 few rods distant, could be in reality more 
 than a mile awa y, Willie, too, was almost 
 as much puzzled as his cousin, and quite 
 as ignorant of the laws of vision. 
 
 It was therefore with much real pleas- 
 ure that the two boys sat down by the 
 uncle, and heard him explain all the prin- 
 ciples of the instrument. He unscrewed 
 its several parts, took out the glasses or 
 lenses as they are called, and let the boys 
 look at objects through them. 
 
 Then he explained to them that it was 
 not really Jennie which they had seen while 
 looking thi;pugh the spy-glass, but only an 
 image of her. Jennie was just as far off 
 as ever, but by the properties of the ob- 
 ject glass, the rays of light reflected from 
 her were brought to a point in the hollow 
 tube of the instrument, forming there her 
 exact image. Then, by the aid of the 
 other lens, or eye-glass, these rays were 
 converged to the eye of the person, and he 
 saw this image. 
 
 And thus the boys took their first les- 
 son in the science of optics, away up on 
 tlte bald head of Mount Pleasant. They
 
 74 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 conversed some time longer about the 
 properties of the lens, by the aid of which 
 astronomers have been able to achieve 
 such wonderful results ; and then, after 
 taking another survey of the beautiful 
 landscape, they started for home.
 
 GOD "our father." 75 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 Two o'clock on Saturday afternoon had 
 been named as the hour for their second 
 meeting in the Old Elm. Punctual at the 
 appointed time, the children, with smiling 
 faces, came pouring into the yard. 
 
 Henry and the little folks were all ready 
 to receive them. The salutations at meet- 
 ing having been passed, and the caps and 
 bonnets of the boys and girls laid carefully 
 away in the little bed-room tliat opened 
 out from the cottage parlor, they ascend- 
 ed to their place of meeting in the Old 
 Elm. 
 
 All the children who had attended the 
 party the week before, and were, there- 
 fore, at the first meeting, were also pres- 
 ent at this, except little rosy-cheeked Ella 
 Anderson, who had been taken suddenly 
 ill with a fever. A shade of sadness 
 spread over the bright faces of the little
 
 76 VOICES FEOM TnE OLD ELM. 
 
 company as Robert announced the news, 
 for sweet little Ella was the pet of the 
 whole neighborhood. 
 
 When all were seated, and the hnni of 
 the merry voices was hushed, they joined 
 in singing that beautiful hymn commenc- 
 ing: 
 
 "God had said, ' Forever bless'd, 
 Those who seek me in their youth ;' 
 
 They shall find the path of wisdom, 
 And the narrow way of truth." 
 
 Then they all kneeled down, 'and Mr. 
 Woodman prayed. When he came to 
 mention little Ella in his prayer, and ask- 
 ed God to take care of her, and to raise 
 her to health again, if it was his will ;-or, 
 if not, that he would prepare her for his 
 holy presence, the children were deeply 
 affected, and tears sprang to many bright 
 eyes. 
 
 They arose from their knees, and every 
 eye was fixed upon Uncle Henry. How 
 tliose children loved him, and yet many 
 of them had seen him only once before, 
 except at Church on the Sabbath. But
 
 GOD -'OUR FATHER." 77 
 
 still they loved liim, and they had looked 
 forward to this hour with delight. 
 
 Uncle Henry read this affection in the 
 loving eyes of the expectant company, 
 and in the glow of their beaming faces. 
 He saw that those buoyant, plastic hearts 
 were within his power, and every impress 
 which his influence was leaving upon 
 them would be lasting. How important, 
 then, that he touched the delicate instru- 
 ments with a skillful hand. How much 
 he needed divine grace. 
 
 From the conversation at the first meet- 
 ing, he had formed the purpose of making 
 the Lord's Prayer the subject of their 
 familiar intercourse at every subsequent 
 meeting, until he had explained all its 
 princii)les. He thought that in this way 
 he could introduce stories and anecdotes 
 to illustrate his points, thereby pleasing 
 the children and profiting them at the 
 same time. 
 
 " Children," said Uncle Henry, '' at our 
 last meeting we conversed about prayer. 
 How many of you desire to continue this 
 subject?"
 
 78 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 All answered in the affirmative. 
 
 "Thank you," replied Mr. Woodman. 
 "The Lord's Prayer, as it is called, is com- 
 posed of several parts, and I propose that 
 we take up each part separately, and 
 make it the subject of conversation for 
 one meeting. How would you like 
 that?" 
 
 The children all thought they should 
 like it much. Indeed, they were pretty 
 sure to be pleased with anything which 
 Henry proposed. 
 
 "What is the first part of this prayer, 
 children ?" 
 
 " ' Our Father who art in heaven,' " 
 they replied. 
 
 "Well, then, this is to be the subject 
 of our present talk. Who is meant by 
 " Our Father in heaven ?" 
 
 " God," answered all with one voice. 
 
 "And how do you know there is a 
 God ? have you ever seen him ?" 
 
 "No, sir," was answered. 
 
 "But we have seen his works," said 
 John Brown, a boy about a year older 
 than Willie.
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER.'' 79 
 
 " And you think, John, that the works 
 of God prove that he must exist, do you?" 
 asked Henry. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Your answer reminds me of the boy 
 who came running to his mother one 
 morning, saying, ' Mother, I am sure !' " 
 Here Uncle Henry broke off short. The 
 children thought he was about to tell them 
 a story, and they sat listening attentively. 
 At last Jennie could not restrain her curi- 
 osity longer, and she asked, 
 
 " What was the boy sure about, uncle?" 
 
 "Why, sure that somebody had been 
 out in the morning before him." 
 
 " AVhat made him sure about that, Mr. 
 Woodman?" asked another. 
 
 "I will tell you," replied Mr. Wood- 
 man. " Edward Green was a little boy, 
 about six years old. The first snow-storm 
 of tlie winter had begun the niglit before, 
 after he had gone to bed. It was so long 
 since the last winter that it seemed quite 
 new and strange to him to see everything 
 covered witli white; the garden, the trees, 
 tlio fences, all of the same color. As he
 
 80 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 slipped out into the front yard, with his 
 nice new boots on, there stood old Leo, 
 the great ^Newfoundland dog, looking 
 moi*e like a white bear than like a real 
 good-natured dog as he was." 
 
 " ' I am sure somebody has been out,' 
 said Edward, as he returned to the 
 house. 
 
 a i ^hy V asked his mother. 
 
 " ' O ! because I am,' answered the boy. 
 'I ssiw foot-prints.^ 
 
 " ' Couldn't the footprints have come of 
 themselves V 
 
 " ' Why, no,' said Edward, laughing, and 
 half thinking to himself that his mother 
 did not ask very wise questions. 'And be- 
 sides, mother, these are the tracks of a wag- 
 on.' 
 
 " ' But,' said the mother again ' couldn't 
 the tracks have come of themselves ?' 
 
 " ' No,' said the little boy ; 'no, mother, 
 I do not think anybody could have made 
 them without a wagon. I am sure some- 
 body has been out.' 
 
 "Was little Edward right or wrong, 
 children, in thinking that somebody had
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 81 
 
 been out that morning because he saw 
 their tracks ?" 
 
 "Right," they answered. 
 
 " Yery true," replied Mr. Woodman ; 
 " and Edward was perfectly right in be- 
 ing sure about it. It is perfectly right to 
 be positive about some things. We may 
 be sure that there is a God ! We see the 
 sun, the moon, and the world we live on. 
 We see the stars, and the clouds, the rain, 
 the snow, and a thousand other things that 
 man could never have made. We see 
 ourselves, and all the animals, and living 
 things around us. 
 
 "And then, too, the seasons come and 
 go, each, in turn, bringing its proper at- 
 tendants. Spring unlocks the icy fetters 
 of the brooks and rills, warms the roots 
 and seeds of flowers into life and beauty, 
 clothes the fields and forests with verdure, 
 and calls back the birds to fill the groves 
 with their matchless music. 
 
 " Then summer comes, and her warm 
 breath matures the waving harvests and 
 delicious fruits, and we rejoice iu her rich 
 profusion.
 
 82 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 '' Close in the footsteps of summer fol- 
 lows autumn ; and with a liberal hand she 
 scatters the apples and pears among the 
 joyous children, and shakes down, for the 
 laughing ones beneath, the brown nuts 
 from the high branches above; and fills 
 to overflowing the granaries of the happy 
 husbandman with the fruits of his toil. 
 
 " Then winter comes, and spreads over 
 hill and dale his covering of spotless white. 
 He throws his fetters upon the dancing 
 streamlets, and their gushing music is 
 hushed, and their merry feet are still. He 
 breathes upon the broad bosom of pond 
 and lake, and an icy shield is left above 
 their liquid depths. He stretches out his 
 hand over the forests, and the tall trees 
 tremble, and the seared leaves are shaken 
 to the earth. He touches the mystic keys 
 of his winter-harp, and old Boreas wakes 
 from his northern couch, and comes leap- 
 ing and dancino^ over the earth to the wild 
 music, piling up the snows, covering 
 stumps, and stones, and shrubs, blocking 
 up the highways, and ahnost obscuring 
 the little cottages by the hill-side. A wild
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 83 
 
 time the old fellow has of it as he thrills 
 to the music of that winter-harp ; and 
 often, in the phrensy of his excitement, he 
 seizes the giant ships on the ocean, and 
 dashes them with tlie strength of his pow- 
 erful arm upon the granite shore. 
 
 " Yes, dear children, everything around 
 us tells of God. His works are every- 
 where. These are his foot-prints, the marks 
 of his presence, and the tokens of his wis- 
 dom and power. Edward knew by those 
 foot-prints in the newly-fallen snow, that a 
 man had been there ; for none but a man 
 could have made those tracks. He knew 
 by the mountains and valleys, the mead- 
 ows and uplands, the trees, and shrubs, 
 and flowers, the men, and beasts, and 
 birds, the sun, and moon, and stars, the 
 ocean, lakes, and rivers, and by all the ten 
 thousand objects which everywhere meet 
 our view, that God has been here, for none 
 but God could have made these things. 
 
 " When I take up a book to read I can- 
 not see the author, but I know tliat the 
 author once lived, or else the book never 
 would have been written. I may know,
 
 84 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 too, by the character of the work, some- 
 thing of the character of its writer. If the 
 book is filled with wise thoughts and noble 
 sayings, I know that the authorwas a wise 
 man; for an ignorant man could not think 
 wise thoughts, or write noble sentiments. 
 All this I can learn, though I had never 
 seen the author in my life. 
 
 ^'So, too, if I examine a very curious 
 machine, I may learn something of the 
 inventor's powers from the machine itself. 
 If it is wisely adjusted in its several parts, 
 it certainly required skill upon the part of 
 the maker. If it is very complicated, and 
 yet operates freely and powerfully, then it 
 shows wisdom as well as skill. 
 
 "But, children, suppose we should see 
 a noble mansion, full of •every comfort, 
 with beautiful grounds surrounding it on 
 all sides. There were broad, green fields 
 filled with waving harvests, hedge-rows 
 neatly trimmed, walks smooth as the 
 swept floor, gardens blooming with choic- 
 est flowers, and every object which could 
 please and delight. 
 
 "We inquire the use of that beautiful
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 85 
 
 mansion, and learn that it was built by a 
 noble-hearted man, as a home for the poor 
 and needy, the children of poverty and 
 affliction. Here they have every comfort 
 which wealth can procure or love bestow. 
 Here their every want is anticipated, and 
 all their necessities fully met. And all 
 this ' without money and without price.' 
 
 ^' What, children, should we think of 
 such a man ?"" 
 
 "We should think he was very kind 
 and good," answered Robert. 
 
 '^How would you know he was kind 
 and good, if you had never seen him ?" 
 
 "His works would show it," replied 
 Charles. 
 
 " Yery true. We should no more 
 doubt in either of the cases which we 
 have supposed, than if we had seen the 
 men who had written the book, invented 
 the machine, and built the mansion. 
 Their works would discover to us their 
 characters in these various respects. 
 
 " And now, children, can you tell me 
 how we are to learn the character of 
 God?"
 
 86 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " By looking at his works," replied 
 Willie. 
 
 "This is one way," said Henry, "but 
 we ought to be very grateful that it is not 
 the only way. What do we learn of God 
 by viewing his works?" 
 
 "That he is wise," replied one timidly. 
 
 "But how may we learn this from the 
 works of God r 
 
 "He must have been wise, or he could 
 never have made all the wonderful objects 
 -which we see around us," answered the boy. 
 
 " Very true. And could I stop to show 
 you how many curious things there are in 
 the earth, you would be far more aston- 
 ished at the wisdom of God than you now 
 are. But what else do we learn about 
 God from the works of creation *" 
 
 " We learn that God is very pK)w- erful," 
 was answered. 
 
 " How can you show this, Robert ?" 
 
 " God must be powerful, or he could not 
 have created so many stars, and planets, 
 and the sun, and moon, and earth, and all 
 the mighty things which we see around 
 us," replied the boy.
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 87 
 
 "Yes, children, these and many otlier 
 things concerning God we may learn from 
 nature. But there are other points quite 
 as important for us to know, that we 
 could never learn from this source. Sup- 
 pose we desired to discover from nature 
 whether God loved us or not, how should 
 we do it?" 
 
 "He has given us the flowers," said 
 Jennie. 
 
 "He causes the earth to produce food 
 for us," said Nathan Lang. 
 
 " He has made the bright sunshine, and 
 filled the groves with singing birds," re- 
 plied little laughing Nell}' Bly. 
 
 "He sends us rain and dew," added 
 another. 
 
 And so they continued for some mo- 
 ments, each having some way in which 
 to learn from nature the goodness of God. 
 Henry listened until they had given their 
 several answers, and then remarked : 
 
 " Yes, God has given us the flowers, as 
 Jennie has said ; and we might learn from 
 these that he is good, had he not given 
 us weeds, and thistles, and thorns like-
 
 88 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 wise. If the flowers show the goodness 
 of God, what do the briers and thistles 
 show, Jennie?" 
 
 Jennie could not answer this question. 
 She looked puzzled : and I do not wonder ; 
 for older heads than hers have been puz- 
 zled with less difficult questions than this. 
 
 " So also we might ask," Mr. Woodman 
 resumed, "if the food which the earth 
 produces shows us God's love, what does 
 the poison denote? It is true, God has 
 made the bright sunshine, and the music 
 of birds, and these are gi^at blessings ; 
 true, also, that he gives the rain and the 
 dew, and without these we must perish. 
 But does not God also gather the clouds 
 and send the storms? Does he not send 
 the earthquake to swallow up, and the 
 pestilence to destroy? Does he not bid 
 the birds depart to warmer climes, and 
 bring the cold, cheerless winter? Have 
 we not drought as well as rain, and is not 
 the dew often withheld? 
 
 "Yes, children, it is plain we cannot 
 learn all about God from his works. We 
 may learn from these that there is a God^
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 89 
 
 and that he is great, and wise, and pow- 
 erful. "We might, perhaps, learn many 
 other things concerning him from the 
 creation. 
 
 "But still ^ve should be very much in 
 the dark as to wliether God was really 
 good or not. I should almost fear that 
 we might come to the conclusion that he 
 was very much like man, partly good and 
 partly bad. We might call the sunshine 
 his smile, and the storm his frown ; the 
 gentle zephyrs his soft kiss, and the sweep- 
 ing tornado his mighty withering stroke ; 
 the mild moonlight and the hum of joy- 
 ous life, his beaming glance and soft 
 whispers; and the lightning's glare and 
 tlie thunder's deep-toned voice, tlie flash- 
 ings of his anger, and the utterance of his 
 wratli." Uncle Henry paused a moment, 
 and then asked : 
 
 "Is there anything that is all good in 
 this world?" 
 
 The children could not think of any- 
 tiling. Indeed, when they thought of 
 sometliing that seemed at first sight to be 
 wholly good, upon turning it over they
 
 90 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 were sure to find some nglj spot, some 
 drawback about it. It was not all good 
 after all. 
 
 " And so it is," continued Mr. Wood- 
 man. "The brightest objects will cast a 
 shadow ; and the sweetest things will be- 
 come stale and sour. If we see a beauti- 
 ful rose, we are sure that thorns guard it ; 
 and if all around us is bright and joyous 
 to-day, the darker and more sorrowful 
 may be the morrow. 
 
 " So, too, in regard to the providence of 
 God. Prosperity and continued health 
 might lead some to look upon the Deity 
 as supremely good. But what would be 
 that person's view of the Divine character, 
 who for long years was racked with pain 
 and consumed by disease; or another's, 
 whose children were stricken by death, 
 and whose fair prospects and bright 
 hopes were eclipsed in the darkness of 
 sorrow ? 
 
 "I said, a few moments since, that by 
 studying the works of God, was one way 
 to discover his cliaracter. Can you tell 
 me of any other source of knowledge in
 
 GOD "OUR father/' 91 
 
 regard to tlie character and will of 
 God ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Joseph Towne. 
 "God is revealed in the Bible." 
 
 "How do you know that the Bible is 
 true, Joseph?" asked Mr. Woodman. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Woodman, don't you think 
 the Bible is true ?" replied the boy, in as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 "O, I didn't say that, Joseph! I sim- 
 ply asked you how you knew that the 
 Bible is true?" replied Uncle Henry. 
 
 "Why, I think it is true, because — " 
 but here the boy stopped, not because he 
 doubted the truth of the Bible, but he 
 couldn't think of any good reason wh}^ he 
 believed as he did. He had not been 
 used to answer such questions, or to give 
 a reason for his belief. 
 
 " Can any one think of a good reason 
 why he believes the Bible is true?" asked 
 Mr. Woodman. " It is printed on paper, 
 and bound just like any other book. 
 It looks very much like other books. 
 Wliy, then, should we think that tho 
 Bible came from God ?"
 
 92 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 No one could answer the question. 
 They had never thought of the subject 
 before. 
 
 " Will you please tell us, uncle ?" asked 
 Jennie. 
 
 " I cannot enter far into the merits of 
 the question to-day : we have not time. 
 I will only say now, that we need not fear 
 to be sure that the Bible is true. Wicke4 
 men would not have written such a good 
 book, if they could ; for the Bible is ter- 
 ribly severe upon wickedness. Good men 
 would not tell a lie, and say it was God's 
 holy word, when it was not. 
 
 " Yes, children, you may be sure when 
 you open the Bible and read, that you are 
 reading what God has said. It is true 
 that men wrote the Bible ; but they wrote 
 just as God instructed them. Hence it 
 is God's word." 
 
 " But how can it be God's word if man 
 wrote it, Mr. Woodman?" asked Nathan. 
 
 *' Suppose, Nathan, I should ask you to 
 take your pen and paper, and sit down 
 and write a letter for me to some of my 
 friends. Well, you get your pen and
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 93 
 
 paper, and seat yourself at your writing- 
 desk ; and then you ask, ' What shall I 
 write, Mr. Woodman?' and so I commence 
 and tell you just what to write. I don't 
 give you the very words, but I tell you 
 the substance, and you express it in your 
 own language ; though I see that your 
 words are properly chosen, and thus guard 
 you against the use of words wllich do not 
 properly express my meaning. Now, I 
 ask you, whose letter would that be ; 
 yours or mine ?'' 
 
 " Mine," said Nathan ; " because I 
 wrote it." 
 
 " Yours," answered Willie ; " because 
 you told him what to write." 
 
 ''Well, perhaps you are both right. 
 Nathan is right in one sense, and you in 
 another, Willie. The letter would be 
 Nathan's, because the words and the 
 handwriting were his ; and it would be 
 mine, because the thoughts were mine. 
 
 ''Suppose, again, that Willie was sick, 
 and he wished to send a letter to Nathan, 
 but he was too weak to write it himself. 
 He, therefore, asks Jennie to write it for
 
 94 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 him. Jennie sits down by the stand at 
 the side of his bed, and says, ' Well, what 
 shall I write?' Willy tells her to write 
 first, that he is sick, and how long he has 
 been sick, and what bitter medicine he 
 has had to take. Then he bids her ask 
 !Nathan all abont the school, and the boys, 
 and who got the prizes, etc. Now, Nathan, 
 when you received that letter, whom would 
 you say it was from ?" 
 
 " From Jennie, sir." 
 
 " Yes, from the pen of Jennie ; but 
 whose mind was it from ?" 
 
 " Willie's, sir," replied the boy. 
 
 "And if the letter contained an in- 
 vitation to visit Willie, whom would 
 that invitation be from ; Jennie or her 
 brother?" 
 
 " Her brother, sir ; because he told her 
 to write it." 
 
 " Yery true, Nathan. Now you under- 
 stand what I meant by saying that you 
 were both right. 
 
 " Just so it is in regard to the^ Bible. 
 Men wrote it, but the thoughts are God's. 
 A part of it is by Moses, and a part by
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 95 
 
 David, and a part by Solomon. Other 
 portions were written by Isaiah and the 
 otlier propliets, and some by the evangel- 
 ists and apostles. But still it is all from 
 God, because the tliouglits are his. He 
 taught them what to write, and they ex- 
 pressed it in their own language, though 
 with their minds and pens under his guid- 
 ance. This, perhaps, was the usual way. 
 But sometimes it appeal's that God gave 
 them the very words to write, for we often 
 read sentences commencing with, 'Thus 
 saitli the Lord.' 
 
 "If, then, we can find God's character 
 revealed in the Bible, we may be sure it 
 is a true character. 
 
 "Let us then look into the Bible and 
 see what it says about ' Our Father who 
 art in heaven.' Certainly, if he is our Fa- 
 ther, we ought to be deeply interested to 
 learn what kind of a Father he is. I 
 think if any of you had never seen your 
 earthly father since your remembrance, 
 and knew nothina: about him more than 
 you could learn from the house which he 
 built before you were born, and the gar-
 
 96 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 den and playthings which he made for 
 your comfort and pleasure, before you 
 were old enough to thank him for them, 
 you would be deeply interested to hear 
 about him from any one who knew 
 him. 
 
 " And if, children, some day the mail 
 should bring you a letter from that father, 
 written, it is true, by the hand of another, 
 but still containing the thoughts of your 
 l^arent, how eagerly you would break the 
 seal and read the contents. And if he 
 should tell you that very soon he would 
 send a messenger to take you to live with 
 himself in his beautiful mansion which he 
 had prepared especially for your comfort, 
 how speedily would you prepare for the 
 journey, and how carefully would you 
 remain in readiness until the messenger 
 should arrive. 
 
 "Well, children, we have a ^Father 
 in heaven' whom we have never seen. 
 True, we can learn something of him by 
 looking at the beautiful things he has 
 made for our comfort and pleasure. But 
 this is not all. I have a letter from him ;
 
 GOD ''OUK FATHER." 97 
 
 and not simply one, but many, written at 
 various times, and sent by different persons. 
 Here they are, collected in this book, 
 \Yhich we call the Bible ;" and Uncle 
 Henry took from his pocket the little 
 clasp Bible which he had made his dayly 
 companion for many years. 
 
 "The next time we meet, I want you 
 all to bring your Bibles with yon, so that 
 we may examine these letters from our 
 Father more conveniently. 
 
 "Let us see, in the first place, what ' Our 
 Father' says about himself That he is a 
 great and powerful and wise Creator, we 
 have already learned. "We wish to look 
 at him to-day in the character of a 
 father. 
 
 "Children, what feelings or sentiments 
 do you think a parent ought to exercise 
 toward his child ?" 
 
 " Love," said one. 
 
 " Kindness," answered another. 
 
 "Patience," replied a fliird. 
 
 " Forbearance," said Robert. 
 
 " Forgiveness," added Jennie, after a 
 short silence.
 
 98 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " Quite a list, and I presume, upon re- 
 flection, you could extend it considerably," 
 replied Mr. Woodman. ''Let us look at 
 these one at a time. First, then, we 
 have, 
 
 "Love. Can any of you show me from 
 the Bible that our heavenly Father is lov- 
 ing?" 
 
 Some five or six hands were raised im- 
 mediately. Uncle Henry waited a few 
 moments for others to think of proof-texts. 
 Yery soon every hand was up. All could 
 think of some verse from the Bible to 
 prove that God was a being of love. 
 
 "We will commence with iSTellie," said 
 Henry to the little girl, who had nestled 
 lovingly to his side. 
 
 " ' God is love,' " sweetly answered the 
 child, as she put her.arm around Jennie, 
 and drew her little playmate lovingly to 
 her side. 
 
 "Yes, darling; and 'They that dwell in 
 love, dwell in God,' " replied Mr. Wood- 
 man, as he marked the movement of the 
 loving girl. "And now for yours, Jen-
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 99 
 
 " Mine was tlie same as Nellie's," replied 
 Jennie. 
 
 " Yery well, then, we will pass to the 
 next. Susan, I saw your hand rise among 
 the first. What text did you think of ?" 
 
 " ' We love him because he first loved 
 ns,' "replied the modest girl. Susan Grey 
 was a bright girl of ten, but she was so 
 retiring, that she did not seem so old as 
 that. 
 
 " How very true, my young friends," 
 replied Henry. " Man would never have 
 loved even his Father in heaven had not 
 that Father first loved him. Charles, let 
 us hear what you were thinking of." 
 
 "'For God, who is rich in mercy, for 
 the great love wherewith he loved us, 
 hath quickened us together with Christ,' " 
 replied Charles. 
 
 "Yery good. We will hear Eobert 
 next, and then we must proceed to other 
 topics." 
 
 " ' For I am persuaded, that neither 
 death, nor life, nor angels, nor principali- 
 ties, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor
 
 100 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 any otiier creature, shall be able to sepa- 
 rate us from the love of God, which is in 
 Christ Jesus our Lord,' " said Robert. 
 
 " A precious text," replied Uncle Hen- 
 ry, his whole soul kindling with joy. 
 "E"othing, dear children, can hinder us 
 from loving God, or rob us of his love for 
 us. And this love our heavenly Father 
 has manifested in a thousand ways. How 
 manv ar-e the blessino^ with which he is 
 crowning our every day. God is, indeed, 
 good to his children ; he is, indeed, a fa- 
 ther ! 
 
 " But the gift of Jesus Christ, as our 
 Saviour, is the most striking proof of his 
 love to man. Christ was God's only Son ; 
 and yet the Father gave him to die for 
 us. Let us never forget that 'He spared 
 not his own Son. but delivered him up 
 for us all.' And if he has done this, if 
 his love was so great for us, sinners as 
 we are, that he would not spare his Son, 
 w^hen his death was necessary for man's 
 redemption, ' Shall he not with him also 
 freely give us all things?' 
 
 " The kindness of our heavenly Father
 
 GOD "OUK FATHER." 101 
 
 is not less signal than his love ; for it is 
 even said of him, that ' He is kind to the 
 unthankful and the evil ;' much more to 
 the obedient and good. ' Like as a father 
 pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth 
 them that fear him.' 
 
 " God, as our Father, is patient also 
 with man. 'He hath not dealt with us 
 after our sins, nor rewarded us according 
 to our iniquities.' He is styled by Paul, 
 'The God of patience and consolation.' 
 And the apostle speaks likewise of 'The 
 riches of his goodness, and forbearance, 
 and long-suffering.' 
 
 " Come, let us sing unto the Lord and 
 say with the psalmist, ' Bless the Lord, O 
 my soul, and forget not all his benefits! 
 who forgiveth all thine iniquities, who 
 healeth all thy diseases.' 
 
 "I have not time to remind you of all 
 the goodness of your divine Father, nor to 
 illustrate all his loving-kindness unto his - 
 children. But I wish to ask you a few 
 questions : 
 
 "If, children, God is so good to us, 
 what is our duty toward him?'* 
 .7
 
 102 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELaI. 
 
 "We should love him," was the im- 
 mediate answer. 
 
 The words seemed to fall from every 
 lip. This was the first thought of each of 
 that 3T)Uthful company. If God was so 
 good to them, if he had manifested his 
 love in so many ways, surely it was their 
 duty to love him in return. 
 
 " Yery wisely answered," replied Henrj^ ; 
 "and I am glad to find you all agreed in 
 this sentiment. Never forget it, children ; 
 but always keep in remembrance that it 
 is your duty to love God with all your 
 heart. 
 
 " But how should we shov^^ our love to 
 our heavenly Father?" again asked Mr. 
 Woodman. 
 
 "By obedience," w\as responded al- 
 most as unanimously as before. 
 
 " Yery true ; for we know that Chrisfc 
 says, 'If ye love me, keep my com- 
 mandments;' and again, 'If a man love 
 me, he Avill keep my words.' Obedience, 
 is the test of love. If we love our earthly 
 parents we shall obey them ; and the 
 child who (Joes not obey his father or
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 103 
 
 mother, proves to us that he does not love 
 his parents purely. 
 
 "But this obedience is very extensive. 
 It must include a great many things, 
 must it not?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," the children replied. 
 
 "Will you mention some of them?" 
 asked Henry. 
 
 "We must love each other," said 
 Susan. 
 
 "Can you prove it from the Bible, 
 Susan?" ' 
 
 "I think I can. I read in my Testa- 
 ment the other day this text: 'Beloved, 
 let us love one another; for love is of 
 God, and every one that loveth is born of 
 God, and knoweth God.' And then, a 
 little further on, I read this: 'If a man 
 say I love God, and hateth his brother, he 
 is a liar; for he that loveth not his 
 brother whom he hath seen, how can he 
 lovo God whom he hath not seen?' Does 
 this prove it, Mr. Woodman?" 
 
 " I think it does, Susan ; and pretty 
 fully too. Willie, what text would you 
 quote to prove this point?"
 
 104 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " I have thought of this, uncle ;" and 
 Willie repeated very slowly, and with 
 deep seriousness, the following: "'Thou 
 shalt love the Lord thy God with all 
 thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with 
 all thy strength, and with all thy mind, 
 and thy neighbor as thyself.' " 
 
 "A very close text, Willie. It is not 
 every one who professes to love God, who 
 gives proof that he loves his neighbor as 
 himself. It is a pretty difficult matter to 
 live so as never to be selfish ; to feel just as 
 happy doing good to othei^ as in receiving 
 it ourselves. Nothing but the grace of 
 God can aid us in this difficult work. 
 
 " We need ask no more questions about 
 our duty to our fellows ; for if we love 
 them as we love ourselves, we shall strive 
 and labor every day and every hour for 
 their comfort and happiness. Kemember, 
 ' he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, 
 and God in him.' Eemember, too, what 
 God commanded John to write: 'My 
 little children, let us not love in word, 
 neither in tongue ; but in deed and in 
 truth.'
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 105 
 
 "Before we part, I want to give you an 
 account of little John, and wliat he did 
 one morning u}3on waking up from sleep. 
 
 "When John awaked in the morning 
 tliere was only a streak of sunshine on 
 the wall ; he watched it, and it kept grow- 
 ing bigger and bigger, until it spread al- 
 most to the size of the window. 'The 
 sun never gets tired of rising,' tliought he; 
 ' it is a good sun.' Then he heard a robin 
 sing. 'The robin is up early f and the 
 boy turned his eyes toward tlio window. 
 ' He sings very briskly, and sweetly, too. 
 What makes the dear little robin sing so?' 
 Next he thought, what a nice little bed 
 he was in, and how white the co\'erlet 
 looked. Then he caught sight of his new 
 jacket hanging on a peg in the corner. 
 'That is certainly a grand new jacket; 
 and there is my own comb and brush,' 
 glancing at the table; 'what a beautiful 
 little brush that is !' He lay and thought, 
 looking first at one thing, and then at an- 
 other. ' What a pleasant home I have got,' 
 said John, aloud ; ' and father and mother, 
 how real good they are!'
 
 106 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "John tbgiiglit and thonglit, until his 
 spirit grew very tender. ' And who made 
 the sun, and the robins, and my parents, 
 and all these things V This question, some- 
 how, forced itself ver^^ powerfully on liis 
 mind. ' Yes,' he repeated to himself, ' who 
 really did make all these nice things?' and 
 a voice seemed to speak right to his heart, 
 'God made tliem !' 
 
 "It seemed as if John never saw so 
 much of God in everything before. Look 
 where he would, he was all around him ; 
 and his hand was full of blessings. 
 
 " Then tlie tlioughts of the boy turned to 
 tlie Bible account of this great and good 
 Being ; and how it is said that he also gave 
 his Son to die for us. 'That's because we 
 broke his holy law,' said John to himself. 
 He wondered how it could be, seeing God 
 was so good ; and yet he saw as he had 
 never seen before, that he had not minded 
 whether he obeyed God or not. 'I am 
 sure I have been very wicked and ungrate- 
 ful, very,' thought John; 'and yet God did 
 not cast me off, but sent Jesus Christ to 
 wash my sins away, and make me what I
 
 GOD "OUR FATHER." 107 
 
 onglit to he. Only to think wliat a God 
 the i^reat God is !' and he felt sorry and 
 penitent for his sins, and the tears rolled 
 down his rosy cheeks. 
 
 '*Soon John arose, and kneeling down 
 beside his little bed, bowed his head in 
 prayer. He had often ' said his prayers ' 
 before, but now it w^as different. God 
 seemed very, very near. He was all 
 around him, and the boy trembled for 
 fear. He thought of his sins, his unthank- 
 fulness, and his wicked neglect of God's 
 commands. He knew not which way to 
 tnrn. Everywhere he could see his heav- 
 enly Father's anger at sin. 
 
 "Just then he seemed to hear Jesus say- 
 ing, */am the way;' and the child tried 
 from the depths of his heart to pray, 
 'Father, for Christ's sake, forgive my 
 sins.' And his Father heard his prayer, 
 and kindly forgave his sins, and the little 
 boy's heart was very happy. And then, 
 as a sense of God's mercy in giving his 
 Son to die for sinnei-s came over him, he 
 felt thankful as he had never done before, 
 and resolved that, by the help of the Holy
 
 108 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 Spirit, he would trust in Christ, and love 
 and serve him always." 
 
 A hymn of praise was sung, and another 
 prayer was offered, and then the little com- 
 pany separated, loving God and each other 
 better than they ever did before, and with 
 their hearts full of pious resolves to serve 
 their" kind, heavenly Father all the days 
 of their lives.
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 109 
 
 CHAPTEK YI. 
 
 '•HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 
 
 Nothing of special interest occurred 
 during the next week. Henry was busy 
 in his little bed-chamber preparing his 
 sermons for the next Sabbath, as he was 
 to preach for the pastor on that day, for 
 the aged man was prostrate upon a bed 
 of sickness. 
 
 But so gently had time dealt with the 
 aged man, and so gradually had the gray 
 hairs crept in among his once raven locks, 
 that few could realize he had not always 
 been just as they now beheld him. And 
 yet he had passed his three score years 
 and ten. 
 
 Saturday afternoon came at last, and so 
 did the children. Little Ella was still ab- 
 sent, though the fever had left her and 
 she was much better. All the others 
 were there ; and again they took their 
 places in the Old Elm.
 
 110 YOI0E3 FROM THE OLD ELM. . 
 
 When a hymn liad been sung and a 
 prayer oflered, each boy and girl opened 
 a pocket Bible and held it ready for use. 
 
 "Well, my dear children," began Mr. 
 Woodman, "God has again permitted us 
 to meet in this charming place to learn 
 some useful lesson from his word. I am 
 glad to see that each has a Bible. I hope 
 you read it every day. It is the only book 
 that we can wholl}^ trust in. This is all 
 true, all good, all precious ! Other books 
 there are which are called good, but they 
 are. not all good. The}^ are just like their 
 authors, imperfect in some of their parts." 
 Then turning to Willie, he said: 
 
 "Willie, ynW you please turn to that 
 part of the Bible about which we are to 
 convei'se to-day ?" 
 
 Willie turned to the sixth chapter of 
 Matthew, and read the clause from the 
 Lord's Prayer : ^ 
 
 " ' Hallowed be thy name.' " 
 
 "AVhat does hallowed mean?" asked 
 Mr. Woodman. 
 
 " Sacred," answered one. 
 
 " Holy," replied another.
 
 "HALLOWED BE TIIV NAME." Ill 
 
 "Reverenced," said a tliird. 
 
 " Honored," ventured tlie fourth. 
 
 " Yery well, children, you are each, in 
 a measure, correct. Hallowed has all the 
 various meanings which you have given 
 it. When a thing is set apart for a holy 
 or religious use, the Scriptures call it 
 sacred. Hence we are commanded to 
 ' Hallow the Sabbath day, to do no work 
 therein ;' that is, to set it apart for holy 
 uses. Thus the thing hallowed becomes 
 holy, because of its being thus set apart for 
 religious purposes. Hence, that part of 
 the Jewish Temple which was set apart 
 for the use of the officiating priests, and 
 in which incense was dayly burned, was 
 called ' the holy place;' and another apart- 
 ment beyond it, where were the ' Mercy 
 seat' and the 'Cherubim,' and into which 
 entered only the high j^riest, was called 
 the ' Holy of Holies*' 
 
 '*^ut when this term is applied to the 
 name of God, it conveys more than a sin- 
 gle idea* God's name is sacred and holy. 
 It is to be reverenced and honored by all 
 his creatures. And even the angels around
 
 112 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 his throne are said to cry, as they worship, 
 ' Holy, holy, holy !' thus ascribing ' honor, 
 and praise, and glory,' unto the name of 
 him who rules in heaven and upon 
 earth. 
 
 " So sacred was the name of God to the 
 Jews that they seldom pronounced it; 
 and when they did so, it was always in 
 the most solemn manner. They taught 
 their children to reverence this name, and 
 severe, indeed, is the punishment under 
 the Jewish law for using it profanely." 
 Then, turning to one of the boys. Uncle 
 Henry asked : 
 
 " J^athan, there is one text in the Bible 
 which is directly in point ; do you remem- 
 ber it?" 
 
 "Do 3^ou mean the third command- 
 ment?" said the boy. 
 
 '' I do. Will you repeat it ?" 
 
 " ' Thou shalt not take the name of the 
 Lord th}^ God in vain ; for the Lord will 
 not hold him guiltless that taketh his 
 name in vain,' " replied Nathan. 
 
 "How long ago was that command 
 given?"
 
 '* HALLOWED BE THY NAME.'' 113 
 
 The children were silent. 'No one was 
 able to answer this question. 
 
 "More than three thousand years," re- 
 plied Mr. Woodman. " And yet it is just 
 as binding upon us as it was upon the 
 Jews. Our heavenly Father did not give 
 it to them alone, but to the world. It is 
 binding upon every person whenever and 
 wherever he may chance to live. 'The 
 Lord will not hold him guiltless that 
 taketh his name in vain.' 
 
 " I want to' explain to you, in the first 
 place, how we should hallow the name of 
 the Lord ; and then I will give you some 
 examples, showing the sad results of re- 
 fusing to obey this command. 
 
 "We must hallow the name of the Lord : 
 
 "1. In our thoughts. Thus David 
 prayed, ' Unite my heart to. fear thy 
 name.' Some children think that, if they 
 do not speak wrong words, they are, there- 
 fore, good children. But God does not 
 wait until we speak before he judges; he 
 looks right into our hearts, and sees our 
 thoughts, even before we have expressed 
 them in words.
 
 114 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " Suppose, cliildren, I should be in some 
 pious company, and something should oc- 
 cur to irritate me greatly. I become very 
 angry. If I were only alone, or with evil 
 companions, I sliould perhaps express my 
 anger in wicked and profane words. But 
 I fear to use such words in that company. 
 Still I keep thinking them over in my 
 heart, and they burn there like coals of 
 fire. Do you not think that God could 
 see them there ?" 
 
 '• Yes, sir," was the instant reply. 
 
 " And would he be pleased or dis- 
 pleased ?" 
 
 "Displeased," they replied. 
 
 " But I did not say anything wicked ; 
 and perhaps none of those who were 
 with me, knew that I was angry in the 
 least." 
 
 " But your thoughts were wicked ; and 
 you would have spoken wicked words if 
 you had dared to." 
 
 "And so you think that God is just as 
 much displeased with wicked thoughts as 
 he is with wicked words, do you not ?" 
 
 " Yes. sir."
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 115 
 
 " But let me suppose another ca<e. Did 
 any of you ever liave wicked thoughts 
 when you were praying f 
 
 " Yes, indeed," answered some half a 
 dozen. 
 
 " Well, Sarah," continued Henry, ad- 
 dressing Sarah Stanhope, whose restless, 
 twinkling blue eyes told of the sportive 
 mind within, " will you tell ns of an in- 
 stance whei\ you were ever thus troubled?" 
 
 " O, I am troubled so almost every day. 
 When I kneel down at night and try to 
 pray, it seems as though everything I 
 have seen or heard during the day that is 
 real fuimy, comes right up before me. I. 
 try to shut it out, and to think of God and 
 holy things ; but sometimes I find it al- 
 most impossible to do so. It makes me 
 feel bad, but I can't help it, Mr. Wood- 
 man ; indeed I can't ; and yet I know it 
 is wicked." 
 
 " Do you try to have these thoughts, 
 Sarah ?" 
 
 " Why, no, sir." 
 
 " And they do not make you happy, do 
 they?"
 
 116 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " O, no, indeed ! I sometimes feel like 
 crying." 
 
 " Well, Sarah, do yon really think they 
 are yonr thonghts ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, I suppose they are. Whose 
 else could they be ?" 
 
 " You do not try to have them, you say ?" 
 \":N'o, sir." 
 
 " And you try to banish them from your 
 mind?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 •' And you pray for grace to help you, 
 just as your parents and Sabbath-school 
 teachers have. told you to do?" 
 
 '' Yes, sir, I try to." 
 
 " And do they not sometimes go away ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; they did last night. When 
 I tried to pray, before going to bed, and 
 had said only a few words, it seemed as 
 though the prayer all went from me, and 
 so many and such idle thoughts came 
 crowding into my mind that I was really 
 frightened. Why, Mr. Woodman, it 
 seemed as if I must speak right out just 
 such silly words as I heard Samuel Jacobs 
 use when he got angry the other day while
 
 "HALLOWED B'E THY NAME." 117 
 
 playing with the boys, and I put my 
 hand over my mouth for fear I should. 
 Well, I stopped a few moments, and then. 
 I asked the Lord to help me drive these 
 wicked thoughts away ; and just as soon, 
 as I had done so, they all left me in a mo- 
 ment, and I was so happy." 
 
 Thus spoke the little girl of twelve. 
 Early had she learned the truth of those 
 cheering promises, " My grace is sufficient 
 for thee ;" and, "Ask and receive, that 
 your joy be full." 
 
 Mr. Woodman could not reply for some 
 moments. His heart was too full of the 
 joy which glistened in the glad tears that 
 filled his eyes. Precious seed was grow- 
 ing in that young hfeart. Satan had been 
 vanquished by .the spiritual weapons of 
 childhood. At length he said : 
 
 " Dear Sarah, those were not your 
 thoughts. They came from Satan. He 
 was trying to fill your little heart witli 
 evil." 
 
 " How do you know they were not my 
 own thoughts, Mr. Woodman ?" asked the 
 girl. 
 
 8
 
 118 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " Because you tried to banish them. 
 This is one proof. Had they been your 
 own you would have made them welcome, 
 and they would, perhaps, have remained 
 with you. Had you not told tliem to 
 depart, and had you taken them into your 
 heart, you would have made them your 
 own ; for you would in that case have 
 adoioted them. Have any of you read 
 'Pilgrim's Progress?'" 
 
 " I have," answered a dozen or more at 
 once. 
 
 " Robert, do you remember an instance 
 in that book similar to Sai^ah's experi- 
 ence?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. It was when Christian was 
 passing through the Yalley of the Shadow 
 of Death, and was near the ' mouth of 
 hell,' wdrich Bunyan tells us, * stood hard 
 by the wayside.' He says poor Christian 
 was so confounded tliat he did not know 
 his own voice ; and when one of the 
 wicked ones from the pit stepped softly up 
 behind him, and whispered horrible blas- 
 phemies in his ear, the good man was 
 sadly troubled, for he thought they came
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 119 
 
 from his own hccart. And yet, all the 
 time, Christian hated these thoughts, and 
 was deeply grieved that he should, as he 
 verily supposed he had done, blaspheme 
 Him whom he had before loved so 
 much." 
 
 '' Our thoughts, dear children, do not 
 always come from ourselves. They are 
 often suggested by others. Satan is al- 
 ways ready to whisper wickedness in our 
 -ears. If we at once repel these whispers 
 they do us no harm ; if we listen to them, 
 and permit them to remain in our hearts, 
 they become our own, and make us 
 wncked as themselves. Let me illustrate 
 this point. 
 
 "Harry Wyman was a wicked boy. 
 He would swear and lie, and some said 
 he would steal. He was also very disobe- 
 dient to his parents. One morning he 
 met Peter Armstrong and Hugli Arnsbey 
 on their way to school. Tliey were good 
 boys, and although the morning was very 
 beautiful, and the fields bright and invit- 
 ing, the thought of ' playing truant ' never 
 once entered their hearts.
 
 120 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 '' Harry had a basket in his hand, and 
 was going to pick berries. 
 
 " ' Come,' said he to the two boys, ' go 
 down into the pasture with me ; there are 
 lots of strawberries there, ISTed Wilder 
 says.' 
 
 " ' O no,' answered Peter, ' we must go 
 to school.' 
 
 "'Go to school!' replied Harry, in 
 disdain ; ' don't catch me in school 
 this bright morning. Come, let the 
 school take care of itself, and go with 
 me.' 
 
 " 'jSTo, sir, that would be playing truant,' 
 again replied Peter. 
 
 "'And what of that, pray? Hasn't a 
 fellow a right to go where he pleases V 
 
 " 'Xot if his parents don't give him lib- 
 erty,' answered the brave boy. 
 
 " ' Well, I mean to go where I please. 
 I don't believe in being shut up in an old 
 school -house such mornings as this. 
 Come, Hugh, you are not such a fool, I 
 know.' 
 
 "This he said because Iiq saw that 
 Hugh did not join Peter in his refusal to
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 121 
 
 go, but stood digging in the soft, warm 
 sand with liis little bare foot, as though 
 busily thinking. 
 
 '"It wouldn't be righl, would it, 
 Peter?' replied the boy, half mus- 
 ingly. ^ 
 
 " ' Right ; yes, right enough,' replied 
 Harry. ' Come, it's real nice to run in 
 the green pasture among the butter- 
 cups.' 
 
 '"N'o, Hugh, don't you go,' answered 
 Peter; Mt's mean to play truant. And 
 then your mother sent you to school, and 
 you ought to go.' 
 
 "But the more Hugh thought of the 
 bright fields, and the nice, ripe strawber- 
 ries, the more he wanted to go with Harr3^ 
 And so when Peter started upon the run 
 toward the school-house, fearing he should 
 be late, Hugh lingered behind, and after 
 a little more coaxing from Harry, went 
 with him to the pasture. 
 
 " Here you see an illustration of my 
 point. Harry suggested to both Peter 
 and Hugh, a thought which neither of 
 them had had liefore. One put it away
 
 122 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 at once, and it therefore did him no harm. 
 The other permitted it to enter his heart, 
 and it made him a disobedient boy and a 
 truant. 
 
 " That truant boy did not honor his 
 good, kind mother in his thoughts, for if 
 he had, he would immediately have said 
 to Harry, ' ISTo, sir, I cannot go. Mother 
 has sent me to school, and I must 
 obey her.' One thought of her should 
 have been enough to keep his heart 
 firm against all temptations to disobe- 
 dience. 
 
 " Just so we must hallow the name of 
 our Father in heaven in our thoughts. 
 We must never permit one little thought 
 of evil against him, or one single desire 
 for disobedience, or sinful indulgence to 
 enter our hearts. 
 
 " But again. We must hallow the 
 name of the Lord. 
 
 " 2. In our ^vords. When we arise in 
 the morning, and kneel by our bedside, we 
 should pray, ' O Lord, open thou my lips, 
 and my mouth shall show forth thy 
 praise.'
 
 "hallowed be thy name." 123 
 
 ''We hallow the name of the Lord in 
 our words, when we ' take not his name 
 in vain.' 
 
 ''That holy name should never be light- 
 ly used. Some boys and girls, and I am 
 sorry to say, some older people too, are 
 accustomed to introduce the name of God 
 on many light and foolish occasions. 
 This is always wrong, and often very 
 wicked. 
 
 "Again, some are so thoughtless and 
 wicked that they will use God's name pro- 
 fanely. They do not fear to curse and 
 swear. Wicked oaths fall hourly from 
 their tongues. 
 
 " I have known some boys even, who 
 would be guilty of this. Not only when 
 they were angry, but even in their sports, 
 they would use the name of the holy God 
 in the most wicked and profane manner. 
 Did you ever know of such ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," the children answered. 
 
 "Sammy Jacobs swears awfully," said 
 little Minnie Brown. 
 
 "And so does Freddy Wallace," said 
 Nellie.
 
 124 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "And old Mr. Saunders, who is more 
 than eighty years old, father says," re- 
 marked Willie. 
 
 " Yes, and he drinks rum too, and that 
 is almost as bad as swearing, isn't it, 
 nncle ?" said Jennie. 
 
 " Both are bad, Jennie, and very wick- 
 ed. But do any of you swear ?" 
 
 "1^0, sir," came quickly and decidedly 
 from every one present. They were quite 
 astonished that Uncle Henry should even 
 ask such a question. 
 
 " And I hope you never will, my dear 
 children," replied Mr. Woodman. ''But 
 I knew a little boy once, who seemed just 
 as kind, and loving, and good as any of 
 you, who grew up a wicked, profane man. 
 He used to kneel by the side of his little 
 bed every morning and evening, when he 
 was a boy, and pray to his Father in heav- 
 en just as you do. But he got into bad 
 company, and learned to speak wicked 
 words, and do wicked acts, until he be- 
 came, at last, a very bad man. He forgot 
 to hallow the name of the Lord in his 
 thoughts and words, and God did not hold
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 125 
 
 him guiltless. Children, never forget or 
 neglect to pray, for praying will keep you 
 from sinning. 
 
 " But we must hallow the name of the 
 Lord in our words, by reproving those who 
 may use that name in vain in our hearing. 
 If a boy should speak lightly or wickedly 
 of your father in your presence, should you 
 not reprove him, boys?" 
 
 *' Yes, sir." 
 
 "And you would do right. It would 
 be your duty to defend the honor of your 
 parent. But you have a heavenly Father, 
 as well as an earthly ; and it is j ust as 
 much your duty to defend the honor of 
 his name, as to guard that of your earthly 
 parent. 
 
 "It may not be best always to do so in 
 words; but sometimes even this will be 
 our duty. But we should always re- 
 prove profanity by shunning, as much as 
 ])ossible, the swearer. Never choose a 
 boy for a companion who will take God's 
 name in vain. 
 
 "Sometimes boys think that it is manly 
 to swear; just as lads with cigars in their
 
 126 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 months seem to think that smoking and 
 chewing tobacco would make men of 
 them. But every noble mind looks upon 
 profanity as a habit at once mean, and 
 vile, and foolish, and in every way detest- 
 able. Hear what some of the greatest 
 men who have ever lived say of it. 
 
 "'Ko gentleman,' says "Washington, 
 'will use profane language. It is an out- 
 rage upon good manners. Ko one can 
 be called a gentleman who is guilty of 
 it.' 
 
 " General Washington would never al- 
 low it in his army. In 1757, while a colo- 
 nel at Fort Cumberland, when he was but 
 a young man, he issued an order express- 
 ing his 'great displeasure' at the preva- 
 lence of profane cursing and swearing, 
 and threatening those who were guilty of 
 it with severe punishment. In 1776, while 
 in command of the Revolutionary army, 
 he issued another order against this prac- 
 tice, in which he speaks of it as a 'vice so 
 mean and low, without any temptation, 
 that every man of sense and character 
 detests it'
 
 «HALL( Vrr.I) BE THY NAME." 127 
 
 Howard, the philanthropist, also detest- 
 ed this vice. Standing on the street one 
 day, he heard some dreadful oaths and 
 curses from a public house opposite. 
 Having occasion to go across the street 
 on business, he first buttoned up his 
 pocket, saying to a bystander, 'I always 
 do this when 1 hear men swear; as I think 
 that any one who can take God's name in 
 vain will also steal, or do anything else 
 that is bad.' 
 
 "As the celebrated Dr. Giiford was one 
 day showing the 'British Museum' to 
 some strangers, he was much shocked by 
 the profane language of a young gentle- 
 man belonging to the party. Taking 
 down an ancient copy of the Septuagint, 
 he showed it to the youth, Avho ex- 
 claimed, ' O, I can read this!' 
 
 "'Then,' said the doctor, 'read that 
 passage,' pointing to the third command- 
 ment. 
 
 "The reproof went home to his con- 
 science, and he ceased from swearing. 
 
 "A clergyman was once walking upon 
 the wharf, where a fishing-boat lay; and,
 
 128 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 as he was passing and repassing, the 
 master was uttering the most shocking 
 oaths. At length, the clergyman turned 
 to the fisherman, and, standing beside his 
 boat, said : 
 
 " ' Sir, 1 am unacquainted with your 
 business. What kind offish are these?' 
 
 "He replied, 'They are cod-fish.' 
 
 " ' How long are you usually out in or- 
 der to obtain your loads V 
 
 "'Two or three weeks,' was the answer. 
 
 '•' Atwhat price do j^ou sell them?' 
 
 " The fisherman informed him. 
 
 "'Well, have you not hard work to ob- 
 tain a living in this way?' 
 
 " ' Yes, hard work,' was the reply. 
 
 "'With what do you bait these fish^' 
 
 " ' With clams, sir.' 
 
 "'Do vou ever catch mackerel?' 
 
 "'Yesl' 
 
 " ' I suppose you bait them with clams 
 too.' ^ • 
 
 "'O, no!' said he; 'they will never 
 bite at clams.' 
 
 "'Then you must have diflferent kinds 
 of bait for dififerent sorts of fish.'
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME/' 129 
 
 "^Well, now, did you ever catch a fish 
 without a bait?' 
 
 "'Yes,' he repHed. 'I was out last 
 year; and one day, when I was fixing 
 my line, my hook fell into the water, and 
 the fool took hold of it, and I drew him 
 in.' 
 
 "'Now, sir,' the clergyman replied, 'I 
 have often thought that Satan was very 
 much like a fisherman. He always baits 
 his hook with that kind of bait which the 
 difi'erent sorts of sinners like best; but 
 when he would catch a profane swearer 
 he does not take the trouble to put on 
 any bait at all, for he bites at the bare 
 hook.' 
 
 " The fisherman was silent. His coun- 
 tenance was solemn ; and after a moment's 
 pause, as the clergyman turned to go away, 
 he heard him say to one of his companions, 
 ' I guess that's a minister.' 
 
 "But, children," continued Uncle Hen- 
 r}^, "I promised to give you some in- 
 stances of the sad results of refusing to 
 obey this commandment. The first which
 
 130 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 I mention is found recorded in the twenty- 
 fourth chapter of Leviticus. It is as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 " The son of an Israelitish \yoman, whose 
 father was an Egj'ptian, and probably an 
 idolater, went out among the children of 
 Israel, and he soon got into a quarrel with 
 one of the men. Probably he became 
 angry, and in his madness he ' blas- 
 phemed the name of the Lord, and 
 cursed:' just as many do at the present 
 day. When the people heard this young 
 man cursing and swearing, they seized 
 him, and brought him unto Moses, their 
 judge. Then he was put into prison, that 
 Moses might inquire of the Lord what he 
 should do with the criminal. Now hear 
 what God said: 'And the Lord spake 
 unto Moses, saying. Bring forth him that 
 hath cursed without the camp, and let all 
 that heard him lay their hands upon his 
 head, and let all the congregation stone 
 him.' 
 
 " And it was done as God commanded. 
 Then, for fear the Jews should forget the 
 lesson, the Lord said unto Moses, 'And
 
 "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." 131 
 
 thou shalt speak unto the cliildren of 
 Israel, saying, Whosoever curseth ]iis 
 God, sliall bear his sin. And he that 
 hhispliemeth the name of the Lord, lie 
 shall surely be put to death, and all the 
 congregation shall certainly stone him.' 
 
 "This was 'our Father's' command 
 many hundred years ago. He has not 
 changed. And although men are not 
 stoned to death in these days for blas- 
 pheming and swearing profanely, as they 
 were among the Jew^s, it is just as true 
 now as then, that ' lie will not hold him 
 guiltless that taketh his name in vain.' 
 
 "I have heard of a young ma%-^'ho 
 had contracted the wicked habit of catling 
 upon God to curse his eyes, if things were 
 not as he represented them, when he 
 wished to make his associates credit what 
 he was saying. Well, in time his eyes 
 began to be cursed in reality. His sight 
 grew poor, and nothing that physicians 
 could do made it any better. At last he 
 .l)e4L-ame blind, and ever after groped his 
 way in darkness ! 
 
 "Between eleven and twelve in the
 
 132 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 forenoon of August 4, 1796, a violent 
 storm of thunder and lightning arose in 
 the district of Montpellier, in France. 
 About a mile from tlie town a body of 
 nine hundred French soldiers lay encamp- 
 ed. At a small distance from the camp, 
 five of the soldiers were assisting a farmer 
 in gathering in the produce of the earth. 
 When the storm came on, the whole party- 
 took refuge under a tree. The five sol- 
 diers began to blaspheme God for inter- 
 rupting them in their labors ; and one of 
 tliem, in the madness of his presumption, 
 took up his gun, which he happened to 
 have b^ him, and, pointing it toward the 
 skies, said he would fire a bullet at Him 
 who sent the storm. Seized with horror 
 at this blasphemous declaration, the farm- 
 er made all haste to quit their company ; 
 but scarcely had he got the distance of 
 ten paces from the tree, when a flash of 
 lightning struck four of the soldiers dead, 
 and wounded the fifth in such a manner 
 that his life was despaired of 
 
 " I saw an account, the other day, of a 
 little boy only six years old, who died
 
 "hallowed be thy name." 133 
 
 nsing the most awful oaths. He cursed 
 his father and mother, and his little heart 
 seemed full of evil. The mother of the 
 little boy was a pious woman, but his 
 father was a poor, wicked, intemperate 
 man ; and he taught his son to swear as 
 soon as the little fellow could speak." 
 
 Deeply serious were the faces of the 
 children as Uncle Henry closed these 
 earnest remarks. They had nev^er been 
 so fully impressed as now, of the solemn 
 import of those words which they had 
 used so many times in prayer. Earnestly 
 did they resolve never to profane the 
 name of their heavenly Father. 
 
 It was later than usual when Mr. Wood- 
 man and the children left the Old Elm, 
 and the boys and girls, wishing each other 
 a cheerful " good-night," hastened to their 
 respective homes.
 
 134 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTEE YIL 
 
 THE POCKET-BOOK. 
 
 On Monday afternoon Willie and 
 Charles had liberty to go over and 
 spend a few houre with their friend 
 Kobert. They had a fine time; and 
 when Robert's mother came oat, at five 
 o'clock, to call them to tea, they could 
 hardly believe it was so late. 
 
 After tea they went out and had anoth- 
 er good swing under a sturdy old oak. 
 w^hich grew in the pasture a f^w rods 
 from the house. Then the two boys start- 
 ed for home, and Robert went with them 
 as far as the bridge across the brook. 
 Here they parted, and Robert, bidding 
 them good-night, returned to his home. 
 
 They had not gone far, after parting 
 with Robert, before Willie saw something 
 glistening in the road a few rods aliead of 
 them, and running to pick it up, found it 
 to be a lady's porte-monnaie, or small
 
 THE POCKET-BOOK. 135 
 
 pocket-book, set with pearl. It was this 
 that had caused it to glisten in the rays 
 of the setting sun. 
 
 The boys were overjoyed at their for- 
 tune. They sat down on the grass and 
 opened the clasp of the pocket-book, and 
 when they saw the roll of bank-bills, 
 and the shining gold pieces which it con- 
 tained, Charles fairly clapped his hands 
 for joy. 
 
 They closed the clasp again, and hast- 
 ened home as fast as their little feet could 
 carry them ; and all out of breath with 
 their long run, came bounding into the 
 parlor where their uncle was seated with 
 his sister, exclaiming : 
 
 " 0, uncle ! you can't guess what we 
 have, found. Just look!" and AVillie held 
 out the prize. 
 
 Uncle Henry took the pocket-book from 
 Willie, while the mother came and seated 
 herself by his side on the sofa. He did 
 not seem half so much astonished as the 
 boys expected he would be, nor Willie's 
 mother either; Willie was almost vexed 
 with them for their coolness.
 
 136 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "Really, you have found quite a prize," 
 said Uncle Henr}-, as he turned the pock- 
 et-book over and looked at both sides. 
 
 " Yes ; and there is ever so much money 
 in it. Just see, mother !" cried the excited 
 boy, as Henry opened the clasp and dis- 
 played the precious contents. "Hurra! 
 I can have my pony now." 
 
 Just then, Jennie, who had been out 
 feeding the chickens and rabbits, hearing 
 the wild shout of the boys, came running 
 into the parlor, dish and spoon in hand. 
 
 " O, coz ! just see what Willie has 
 found," cried Charles, pointing to the 
 pocket-book lying on the uncle's knee, 
 and the gold and roll of bills which he 
 was holding in his hand. 
 
 " O, my !" exclaimed the astonished girl, 
 " what lots of money. Whose is it, Wil- 
 lie?" 
 
 " Mine," answered the brother, thrust- 
 ing his hands into his pocket and straight- 
 ening himself up. 
 
 "What will you do with it? Why, 
 you'll be as rich almost as Squire Mason, 
 won't you, Willie?" said Jennie.
 
 WILLIE AND THE POCKET-BOOK.
 
 THE POCKET-BOOK. 139 
 
 "Do with it?" repeated Willie, looking 
 quite lofty. ''I will buy a horse and Ijug- 
 gy, and — and — lots of things, sissy." 
 
 " O, good !" cried the girl, clapping her 
 hands in glee ; " and you'll let nrie ride, 
 won't you, Willie?" 
 
 "Yes, you may ride sometimes, and 
 mother too, and Uncle Henry, and father," 
 replied the brother. 
 
 All this time Uncle Henry had been 
 counting over the money, while his sister 
 sat by his side looking on. He found 
 there was one hundred and fifty dollars in 
 bills, and twenty dollars in gold. Then 
 he examined to see if he could find any 
 papers in any part of the pocket-book by 
 which he could learn who was the loser; 
 but he found none. 
 
 He had just finished as Willie was 
 niaking that grand fiourish about his fu- 
 ture plans, in which " mother, and Uncle 
 Henry, and father" were kindly permitted 
 to occupy so favorable a position. He 
 could scarcely help smiling as he saw 
 the effect which the sudden vision of so 
 much wealth produced upon the mind of
 
 140 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 the fanciful boy. Willie's mother saw it 
 too, and it awakened painful feelings in 
 lier heart. 
 
 "And so, Willie, yon mean to have a 
 pony, do you ?" said Uncle Henr3^ 
 
 "Yes, uncle, and a buggy too. Won't 
 it be nice ?" replied Willie. 
 
 " Yes, Willie, a fine dapple gray pony 
 and carriage would certainly be very 
 agreeable ; and, as you have kindly prom- 
 ised to give your parents and my humble 
 self a bit of a ride now and then, really it 
 would seem ungrateful in us to complain. 
 But do you really think this money is 
 yours ?" 
 
 "Why, yes, uncle; I found it." 
 
 " Whose was it before you found it ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 "Do you think it belonged to any- 
 body?" 
 
 " Why, to be sure it did ; somebody 
 must have lost it." 
 
 "And after the lady, or whoever the 
 loser might be, dropped it, I suppose it 
 was no longer hers ?" 
 
 Willie was silent. He had found the
 
 • THE POCKET-BOOK. 141 
 
 money, and never once doubted but it 
 was therefore his. He began, however, 
 to have some scruples upon that point, 
 and his visions of wealth, which, a moment 
 before, were so bright, began now to grow 
 dim. 
 
 "Suppose, boys, that Willie should buy 
 a pony, and after having a good ride, 
 should turn him into the pasture for the 
 night. In the morning he wants to ride 
 again, and so he takes the bridle, and runs 
 away to the pasture to catch the pony. 
 But pony is not to be found. He search- 
 es every nook and corner, but without 
 success. At length he finds a rail down, 
 and here are pony's tracks which he left 
 when he jumped over into the road. 
 Pony has run away, sure enough. 
 
 "The search is continued, and after a 
 number of days, pony is heard from. He 
 is in the stable of a farmer living^ in an- 
 other town. Willie goes to the man and 
 says : * 
 
 " * Mr. , I have lost my horse, and a 
 
 gentleman told me that you had found him 
 and put him in your stable. I have come to
 
 142 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 get liim, and am willing to paj you for 
 your trouble and expense in keeping him.' 
 
 '' ' What kind of a horse was yours, my 
 little man V asks the stranger. 
 
 '' ' O, he was a beautiful dapple gray, 
 quite small, with long switch tail, heavy 
 mane, and as handsome as a picture,' you 
 reply. 
 
 " ' Well,' replies the man, ^ I have got 
 just such a pony as you have described 
 out in my stable, and I have no doubt but 
 it is the one which you lost. But, my 
 l)oy, I found him, and therefore he is 
 mine, you see.' 
 
 '* ' Why, no,' you answer, ' I bought that 
 ])ony with my own money, and I can 
 prove it; he is mine, sir.' 
 
 '" O, I do not doubt but that you 
 bought him, and that he was once yours ; 
 but then, you know, you lost him, and I 
 have found him. Kow he is mine, and I 
 mean to keep him.' 
 
 " Now, boys, what should you think of 
 such a man ?" 
 
 "I should think he was very wrong," 
 replied Charles.
 
 THE POCKET-BOOK. 143 
 
 " But did he really find the pony, 
 would it not therefore be really his V 
 
 "ISTo, sir," replied the boy. 
 
 '' Why not?" asked Mr. Woodman. 
 
 " Because he neither bouglit it, nor was 
 it given to him," said Charles. 
 
 " Then in order to have property right- 
 fully belong to us, we must either pay an 
 equivalent for it, or else receive it as a 
 gift, you think ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I don't see any other way," 
 Charles replied. 
 
 All this time Willie stood, partly list- 
 ening and partly thinking. He had been 
 so elated at first upon finding the pocket- 
 •book, that he did not stop to think alxnit 
 the right of ownership. He had found it, 
 and never dreamed but it was therefore 
 his own. But now he began to see the 
 matter in a different light. AYliat Uncle 
 Henry had said about his losing his pony, 
 made it very plain that the pocket-book 
 and the money did not belong to him. 
 The simple fact that he picked it up in the 
 road, could not give him the right of own- 
 ership to the property, any more than the
 
 144 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 finding of the pony gave the man a right 
 to daim it as his own, and to keep it when 
 the real owner called for it. 
 
 " Mother," said Willie, " I wish I could 
 find the lady who lost this money." 
 
 " What would you do, my son, if you 
 should find her?" 
 
 "Lwould give it back to her, with the 
 money all in it. I don't think I have any 
 right to use it," replied Willie. 
 
 " Why, you say you found it ; is it not 
 therefore yours, Willie ?" 
 
 "]^[o, mother; I don't think it is. I 
 think it belongs to the person who lost it, 
 and I mean to return it to her if I can find 
 her." 
 
 " That is right, my son," replied the 
 mother. " The pocket-book does not be- 
 long to you, -unless you are unable to find 
 the owner. In that case you would have 
 a better right to it than any one else. But 
 even then, should the owner call for it, 
 after a number of years had passed, you 
 would be under obhgations to return the 
 pocket-book and its con tents, or at least their 
 value, if you had used them as your own,"
 
 THE POCKET-BOOK. 145 
 
 "But how can we find the owner, 
 mother ?" 
 
 " We must advertise the pocket-book, 
 Willie." 
 
 "So we will, mother! If uncle will 
 write some notices, Charles and I will 
 carry them all around and put them up. 
 I will take my little hammer and some 
 tacks." And Willie's eyes sparkled with 
 real pleasure. 
 
 " Well, we will see about it to-morrow."
 
 146 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTER Yin. 
 
 HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 
 
 The next morning Uncle Henry wrote 
 a number of notices, heading them with 
 the words, " Pocket-book Found ;" and 
 WilUe and Charles took them, and started 
 off to put them up in the most public places. 
 They carried one down to the store, and 
 another to the hotel in the village, and a 
 third they put up in the depot. They also 
 gave one to the railroad conductor, to 
 carry to the next town, and another to the 
 driver of a stage which was going in an- 
 other direction. 
 
 Willie's father, who was a carpenter, 
 and was building a large house in a vil- 
 lage in another part of the town, also took 
 a copy and posted it in the store in that 
 place. 
 
 Two days after, as Willie and Charles 
 were out in the front yard at play, they 
 were surprised to see a splendid carriage,
 
 HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 147 
 
 drawn by a span of horses, drive up to the 
 gate. The boys came running into the 
 house to tell the news. 
 
 " I really believe, mother, the lady is 
 come for the pocket-book," said Willie. 
 
 *' Well, my son, perhaps she is," replied 
 his mother. 
 
 When the man who drove the span of 
 beautiful grays had secured his horses, he 
 let down the steps of the carriage, and a 
 lady, dressed very richly, alighted, and 
 opening the little gate, came up to the cot- 
 tage. She knocked, and Willie's mother 
 went to the door. 
 
 "Does Mr. Manly live here?" inquired 
 the lady. 
 
 " He does," replied Mrs. Manly ; "will 
 you please to walk in ?" 
 
 " Thank you," replied the lady, as she 
 followed Willie's mother into the parlor. 
 
 " I have come," continued the stranger, 
 after they were seated, " to inquire after 
 a pocket-book, which I saw by an adver- 
 tisement in another town had been found 
 by your little son." 
 
 "Yes; Willie found a pocket-book a
 
 148 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 few days ago, and we thought best to ad- 
 vertise it at once. Have you lost one ?" 
 asked Mrs. Manly. 
 
 " I have," replied the lady. " I was 
 passing through your town on Monday 
 last, and seeing some berries by the road- 
 side, left my carriage for the purpose of 
 picking them ; and I suppose I dropped it 
 then. I did not miss it for half an hour 
 or more, and when I returned to the place, 
 it was nowhere to be found." 
 
 "About what time in the day was this, 
 madam ?" again asked Mrs. Manly. 
 
 " About half past six in the afternoon," 
 replied the lady. 
 
 " Will you give me a description of the 
 book you lost ?" 
 
 "O, certainly," replied the lady. "It 
 was of red Turkey morocco, with a silver 
 clasp, and set with pearl." 
 
 "Do you remember the amount of 
 money in it when you lost it ?" again in- 
 quired Willie's mother. 
 
 "Not precisely," replied the lady; "but 
 as near as I can recollect, there was some 
 hundred and twenty-five dollars, or per-
 
 HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 149 
 
 haps more, in bills; and abont twenty 
 dollars in gold. Bnt there was a mark 
 upon the clas^j which probably you have 
 overlooked, as it cannot be seen very 
 distinctly. If you will examine it closely, 
 you will find H. M. marked on the sil- 
 ver clasp, on the under side," rej^lied the 
 lad}'. 
 
 " Pardon me, madam, for- being so par- 
 ticular in my inquiries," said Mrs. Manly, 
 by way of apology, as she went to a little 
 stand, and taking the pocket-book from 
 the drawer, examined it as directed. 
 
 " O, certainly," answered the stranger, 
 " I am wholly unknown to you ; and it is 
 but right that you should make me ' prove 
 property,' as the papers say." 
 
 Mrs. Manly found the private mark, as 
 the lady suggested. Though so delicately 
 engraved as to. be scarcely visible to the 
 naked eye, yet by close inspection she 
 could see it very plainly. Willie went to 
 where she was standing by the window, 
 and wished to look at the mark also. 
 His mother pointed it out to him ; and 
 he, too, saw the letters sure enough. Ho
 
 150 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 wondered he had not seen them before ; 
 and Willie could hardly believe his own 
 eyes. 
 
 " I have no doubt but the pocket-book is 
 yours, madam,'' replied Willie's mother, 
 as she handed it to the lady for her to ex- 
 amine ; "and I am very happy to be able 
 to return it to you." 
 
 "Thank you," the lady replied, as she 
 took the pocket-book, and examined it. 
 "Yes, this is indeed mine ; but little did I 
 ever think of seeing it again. Are these 
 your sons, Mrs. Manly ?" asked the lady, 
 looking at Willie and Charles. 
 
 "That is mine," replied the mother, 
 pointing to Willie, " and the other is his 
 cousin Charles." 
 
 " Come here, my dear," said the lady, 
 holding out her hand to Willie. 
 
 Willie went to her, and she put her 
 arm around him, and drew him to her 
 side. Then she took the bills from the 
 pocket-book, and shutting it up with the 
 gold still in it, gave it to the boy, saying, 
 
 " I will give you the porte-monnaie, 
 Master Willie, to remember me by; and
 
 HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 151 
 
 the gold that is in it is a reward for 
 returning me my property." 
 
 " O, no, ma'am, I would rather not take 
 it!" replied Willie. 
 
 ^'Why not?" asked the lady, with a 
 look of pleasure. ''Don't the porte-mon- 
 naie suit you ?" 
 
 "O, yes, it is beautiful! but then, the 
 money is not mine, you know." 
 
 "Not if I give it to you?" 
 
 "Well, but I don't deserve it. I don't 
 want any pay for returning your money 
 to you." 
 
 " AVell, keep it, then, as a present from 
 me," said the gratified lady, kissing the 
 noble brow of the honest boy, and putting 
 the porte-monnaie into his hand. 
 
 "Thank you," said Willie, "you are 
 very kind. It is a beautiful present ;" 
 and the little boy's eyes sparkled as he 
 returned to a seat on the sofa beside his 
 mother. 
 
 Just then Uncle Henry entered the 
 
 parlor by a back door through the kitchen 
 
 and sitting room, leading little Jennie by 
 
 the hand. They had been up into the 
 
 10
 
 152 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 grove for a walk, and had just returned ; 
 and as the cottage was between them and 
 the front gate, they had not seen the car- 
 riage and horses standing there. 
 
 No sooner had Uncle Henry entered 
 the room, and met the eyes of the lady, 
 than they both sprang forward, and cor- 
 dially grasped each other by the hand. 
 
 ''"Why, how is this, Mr. Woodman?" 
 exclaimed the lady, as she held the young 
 n)an by the hand. ''How do I find you 
 here?" 
 
 "Yery naturally, Miss Martyn. Let 
 me introduce you to my onl}' sister, Mrs. 
 Manly, of whom you have heard me 
 speak so often." Then turning to his 
 sister, he said, " Sister, this is Miss Martyn, 
 an old and dear friend of mine." 
 
 "This indeed explains the mystery," 
 replied Miss Martyn, as she cordially 
 shook the sister by the hand. "I little 
 thought, while convei^sing with 3'ou here, 
 that you were a relative of a friend^ so* 
 highly prized as Mr. Woodman. Yoilr 
 brother and mine were class-mates and 
 intimate friends, Mi-s. Manly."
 
 HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 153 
 
 A cordial invitation was given by 
 Henry's sister, seconded by himself and 
 the happy children, for Miss Martyn to 
 stay to dinner, and it was as frankly ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 She stepped to the gate, and gave 
 directions to her "servant, who then 
 mounted his box, and the carriage 
 whirled away in the direction of the 
 neighboring hotel, while Miss Martyn 
 again joined the friends in the parlor.
 
 154 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 
 
 Miss Martyn remained to dinner. She 
 and Henry had not met before for some 
 time, but during his course in college he 
 had often passed days, and even weeks, 
 at her father's house. Walter Martyn, 
 the brother referred to in the last chap- 
 ter, was not only a class-mate with Henry 
 during all his college term, but for two 
 years his room-mate also. 
 
 Henry found young Martyn, when he 
 first became acquainted with him, a wild 
 and reckless youth, far more fond of sport 
 than study. He was so much given to 
 pleasure, that his parents had many fears 
 in regard to his future. He was an only 
 son, and heir to great wealth. 
 
 But though rieh^ the parents of Walter 
 were pious. They had dedicated their 
 first-born to God in baptism, and sought 
 to instill into his young mind the princi-
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 155 
 
 pies of truth and virtue. But, alas! evil 
 associates weakened all their influence, 
 • and well-nigh wrought the complete ruin 
 of their darling boy. 
 
 Walter was a quick scholar, and though 
 sadly wanting in application, could al- 
 wa3's manage to stand well in his classes. 
 In due time he was prepared for college, 
 and entered as a member of the same class 
 with Henry Woodman. 
 
 Yery soon the habits which had been 
 formed in the vicious circles of his own 
 neighborhood began to show themselves 
 hfere. The faculty regarded him with a 
 jealous eye, and were more than once 
 constrained to reprove him for his follies. 
 
 Thus things went on for almost a year, 
 when the providence of God overtook 
 hinr. In company with a few kindred 
 spirits, he went out early one Sabbath 
 inorning to bathe in a pond, at a little 
 distance from the college grounds. Tiiis, 
 the rules of the institution strictly for- 
 bade. 
 
 The company had been enjoying them- 
 selves for some time, and all but Walter
 
 156 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 liad left the water and were dressing 
 themselves upon the shore, when his 
 piercing cry for help struck upon their 
 ears. They turned quickly, but Walter, 
 who was some rods away from the shore, 
 had sunk ! In a few moments he arose to 
 the surface, and cried wildly again for 
 assistance. 
 
 So completely powerless with fear were 
 his associates that not one of them moved 
 to liis rescue. He had risen for the second 
 time, still shrieking for help, and was just 
 sinking again, when a man rushed past 
 the stupefied company and dashed into 
 the water. 
 
 The individual who thus boldly and 
 timely came to the rescue was Henry 
 Woodman. He had been out walking 
 for the purpose of pious meditation in 
 the quiet fields, aud was just returning 
 by a path that led along the shore of the 
 little lake, when the cry of the drowning 
 man reached Jiim. Dashing forward in 
 the dil-ection of the sound, he arrived, as 
 we have seen, just in season to see Walter 
 as he was sinking for the second time.
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 157 
 
 His quick eye took in all at a glance; 
 and witliout stopping to ask questions he 
 threw himself into the water, and made 
 all possible liaste to save the unfortunate 
 youth. 
 
 Exerting every power, he reached the 
 spot where Walter had disappeared just 
 as the bubbling waters gave token that 
 he was again rising to the surface. He 
 came up, gave one faint ci*y, gasped, and 
 again disappeared. 
 
 Henry had presence of mind enough to 
 know that if he would save his friend, he 
 must so seize him as to keep himself free 
 from the grasp of the dying man. He, 
 therefore, waited until he was again sink- 
 ing, and then diving after him, seized him 
 by his hair. 
 
 Being a good swimmer, he did not fear 
 so long as he could keep himself free to 
 act; and having now complete control of 
 his man, he struck out vigorously for the 
 shore. It was soon gained ; and he bore 
 the inanimate form of Walter in his strong 
 arms, and lay him upon the warm, soft 
 grass.
 
 158 VOICES FilOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 One of the students was dispatched for 
 a blanket, while every exertion was used 
 to restore the apparently lifeless youth. 
 But not until the young man returned, 
 and Walter had been carried to his board- 
 ing-house, and the physician had arrived, 
 did signs of returnmg life gladden the 
 hearts of those who were anxiously watch- 
 ing by his side. 
 
 From that day Walter Martyn was a 
 changed man. He and Henry became 
 fast friends ; and the latter soon had the 
 liappiness of seeing his class-mate stand at 
 the altar, and, renouncing the world with 
 its sinful pleasures, give himself to Christ 
 and the Church. 
 
 Walter's parents resided but a few 
 miles from the college, and many were 
 the pleasant Sabbaths, and, indeed, the 
 long weeks of vacation, which Henry 
 passed in the bosom of this Christian 
 family. They seemed, indeed, to divide 
 their affections between their son and 
 liimself. And many a dark cloud of 
 pecuniary difficulty was lifted from the ^ 
 lieart of the indigent student by the ever
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 159 
 
 open purse of the rich Christian gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 Miss Martyn left in the early part of 
 the afternoon, promising to call again 
 before many days, as she was passing 
 a few weeks with a relative in the next 
 town. 
 
 When Willie's father returned that 
 evening, the children had much to tell 
 him of the events of the day. Willie 
 could hardly wait for his father to be 
 seated, before showing him the beautiful 
 porte-monnaie and shining little bits of 
 gold, all liis own, which the good lady had 
 given him. And Jennie had so much 
 to say about the stranger ; how good she 
 was, and how prettily she was dressed, and 
 how kindly she spoke, and how sweetly she 
 smiled, that Mr. Manly could scarcely 
 lind time to eat his supper. 
 
 " And don't you think, father," said 
 Jennie, "when she went away she kissed 
 us all ; and she has promised to come 
 again soon. O, she is so good ! I love 
 her dearly." 
 
 After tea, and when they were all seated
 
 160 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 in tlie sitting-room, Willie's father asked 
 him : 
 
 " What do YOU intend to do with jour 
 money, Willi eV' 
 
 "Keep it, father; wouldn't you?" replied 
 the boy. 
 
 " Well, I don't know. I think I should 
 keep the pocket-book, for the sake of the 
 giver ; but it appears to me I should 
 want the money to be earning me some- 
 thing." 
 
 " Why, father, money can't work. How 
 can my money earn anything?" 
 
 "I guess you don't understand money 
 matters very well, Willie," replied his 
 father. " It is true money cannot work ; 
 but it can earn more money -for all that." 
 
 "How, father?" 
 
 " Did you ever hear of such a thing as 
 interest^ my son?" 
 
 " O, yes, I have ciphered in interest in 
 my arithmetic," replied the boy. 
 
 " Well, now, suppose I should want to 
 use one hundred dollars, and Uncle Henry 
 had it in his wallet, and should consent to 
 lend me the money ; how much should I
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 161 
 
 have to give him for the use of it for one 
 year?" 
 
 Willie thought a moment, and then 
 answered, 
 
 " Six dollars, sir." 
 
 "Right, Willie. ]N"ow, would not 
 Henry's hundred dollars earn him six 
 dollars?" 
 
 " O, yes ! is that what you mean, 
 father?" 
 
 " Certainly. Now can you tell me 
 how much your twenty dollars in gold 
 would earn you in a year ?" 
 
 " Will gold earn more than other kinds 
 of money ?" asked Willie. 
 
 " No, my son," replied the father smil- 
 ing. 
 
 Willie and Charles figured upon a piece 
 of paper with a lead pencil for a little 
 while, and then Willie said, 
 
 " One dollar and twenty cents, father." 
 
 "That is right, if you reckon the in- 
 terest at six per cent. But sometimes we 
 cannot get but five per cent. Can you 
 tell me what it would come to at that
 
 162 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 " One dollar," answered Charles, after a 
 few moments. 
 
 " Well, Willie, if you will let me advise 
 yon, I can tell you what I would do : I 
 would put my money into the ' Savings 
 Bank.' " 
 
 "What is that, father?" 
 
 "It is a place where those who can 
 manage to save something from time to 
 time, place it for safe keeping. The in- 
 stitution is called a bank ; and because 
 the money which is put into it is supposed 
 to be saved from the dayly earnings of 
 those who deposit it, it is therefore called 
 a ' savings bank.' The money which is 
 thus deposited is loaned out to indf^duals, 
 by those who have the management of the 
 bank; and each one who has deposited, 
 draws usually five per cent, interest on 
 his money." 
 
 " But can't they ever get their money 
 out of the bank again ?" asked AVillie. 
 
 " O, yes! they can take it out when 
 they please, b}^ simply giving the directors 
 a few weeks' notice of their intention," 
 replied Mr. Manly.
 
 MONEY AT INTEREST. 163 
 
 " Will it be perfectly safe there, father ?" 
 
 '" I think it will, Willie ; and then, per- 
 haps, you can save something to add to 
 it." 
 
 " Well, I guess I will put my money 
 into the bank, father ; and I mean to try 
 and earn some more to add to it." 
 
 " I hope you will, my son." 
 
 And so it was decided ; and the next 
 day Mr. Manly carried the money to the 
 bank, and had it duly deposited, and en- 
 tered in a little book, which he brought 
 back at night to his son.
 
 164 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " THY KINGDOM COME. THY WILL BE DONE 
 ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN." 
 
 Friday was a stormy day ; and many 
 were the fears of the little ones at Rose 
 Cottage, lest the morrow would be stormy 
 also, and that, consequently, their meet- 
 ing would have to be deferred. But the 
 morrow came, and the bright sun peeped 
 into the room where the boys were sleep- 
 ing, and kissed their rosy cheeks and closed 
 eyelids, and awoke them from their 
 dreams. They sprang out of bed, each 
 exclaiming joyfully, "O, ij; is pleasant; 
 I'm so glad !" 
 
 While Willie and Charles v/ere lying 
 awake the evening before, listening to the 
 rain pattering upon the roof above their 
 little bed, and talking of various things, 
 and wondering if it would be pleasant 
 on Saturday, they formed a plan for the 
 forenoon of the following day, should it 
 be fine, with which they were highly
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 165 
 
 delighted. It was nothing less than to 
 take Jennie's little wagon and go down 
 to Mr. Anderson's, and get little Ella and 
 draw her up to the cottage. 
 
 The little girl had been mending quite 
 rapidly for the past week, and was now 
 able to ride quite a distance, though she 
 could not walk far. The children were 
 very desirous of having her present at 
 their next meeting. 
 
 When the boys told Jennie of their plan, 
 she clapped her little hands for joy ; and 
 away the three happy children ran to ask 
 mother and Uncle Henry. The plan was 
 approved, and after breakfast, they started 
 off upon their kind errand. 
 
 Willie and Charles took hold of the pole 
 of the carriage, and told Jennie to jump in 
 and they would be her horses. So Jennie 
 sat in the little willow wagon, and the 
 happy boys sprang away, skipping and 
 Iciughing along, as gay as any span of 
 dapple grays, and making the little wheels 
 buzz as they rattled over the hard gravelly 
 road. 
 
 They soon arrived at Mr. Anderson's,
 
 166 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 and found Ella out among the flowers in 
 the front yard, gathering a bouquet for 
 her little china vase on the center-table. 
 She was still somewhat pale, and lacked 
 that roundness of cheek and body which 
 she once had ; but her eye was as bright, 
 and her smile just as sweet as ever. 
 
 Ella was very glad to see the children, 
 and when they told her their errand, she 
 was highly delighted. She had missed 
 the meetings very much, and although 
 Mr. Woodman had called often, and some 
 of her mates had been in to see her, yet 
 she sometimes felt lonely. This was more 
 than usually the case on Saturday after- 
 noons, when she knew the children were 
 all so pleasantly seated in the Old Elm, 
 listening to the pleasing instructions of 
 Uncle Henry. 
 
 Ella's mother gave her consent to the 
 plan, for she knew that Mrs. Manly and 
 Mr. Woodman would care for her little 
 girl as tenderly as she could herself. 
 She had confidence, too, in their discre- 
 tion, and did not fear, therefore, to intrust 
 her darling to their care. And then she
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 167 
 
 thought the ride on tliat pleasant morning 
 and the pleasure of the company would 
 do Ella good. 
 
 The little girl was soon ready, and when 
 she was nicely seated in the carriage, they 
 started off, Willie and Charles acting the 
 part of horses again, and Jennie walking 
 by the side of her little friend. They did 
 not return as fast as they came for two 
 reasons. First, Ella was not yet strong 
 enough to bear the jolting of such a rapid 
 ride ; and then, Jennie was on foot, and 
 would not be able to keep up with them. 
 So they said they would be a span of farm 
 horses now, and go v^ery steadily. 
 
 Uncle Henry was waiting for them at. 
 the gate when they arrived, and taking 
 Ella from the carriage, he kissed her bean- 
 tiful cheek, and carried her in his arms 
 hi to the cottage, followed by the delighted 
 trio. Then Willie's mother untied the 
 white sun-bonnet of the little girl, and 
 took off the blue silk sack which the 
 careful mother had thrown over her, 
 and making a little bed on the sofa, 
 with a couple of pillows, told Ella she 
 11
 
 168 VOICES FllOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 had better lie down and rest a little 
 while. 
 
 Kever were children mare delighted 
 than Willie, Charles, and Jennie. Uncle 
 Henrj sat and watched their many efforts 
 to please their little guest, and earnestly 
 did he pray that their hearts might 
 ever remain as full of love as they now 
 were. 
 
 , At the appointed time, the boys and 
 girls began to gather from their ^various 
 homes, and soon all were snugly seated in 
 their little sanctuary in the Old Elm. 
 How delightful it seemed to the pure 
 spirited Ella to be there, and how happy 
 the children all were to see her once more 
 in their midst. 
 
 Heartfelt were the thanksgivings which 
 Uncle Henry offered to his Father in 
 heaven, for the mercies of the past and 
 the blessings of the present ; and when he 
 offered his praises for the recovery of the 
 little girl, every young heart in that de- 
 vout circle earnestly responded to the sen- 
 timent. 
 
 After they had sung and prayed, and
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 169 
 
 each had become quietly seated, Mr. 
 Woodman commenced. 
 
 " Our Father is very good to us, dear 
 children, in permitting us all to meet here 
 again. We ought to feel very grateful, 
 and I trust we do. Charles, will you 
 please read the subject for to-day?" 
 
 Charles opened his Bible and read : 
 
 " TJiy hingdom corned'' 
 
 " Read the next clause also, if you 
 please,*^' said Henry. 
 
 " Thy will he done in earth as it is in 
 heaven^'' read Charles as desired. 
 
 "We will take the two clauses as the 
 subject of our present conversation. And 
 how many times is this prayer uttered 
 upon the earth. Almost every one in 
 Christian lands, who prays to God at all, 
 uses these words. 'Thy kingdom come' 
 is uttered by ministers and people in the 
 house of God; by parents and children 
 around the family altar, and by thousands 
 of individuals in their closets. And yet, I 
 fear, there are many professing Chris- 
 tians even, who do not understand what 
 it means. Can you tell me, children?"
 
 170 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 They conld not. Certainly they had 
 uttered the words many times in their 
 morning and evening prayei-s, but what 
 they really meant was a question which 
 they had never before been asked. They 
 were sure they ought to know, but they 
 did not. 
 
 " Well, children, I will try to tell you," 
 said Henry. " The ' kingdom of God ' is 
 a term frequently found in the Scriptures. 
 It seems to have three significations. It 
 is used to express the government of God 
 over the universe, over his Church on 
 earth, and over heaven above. These are 
 often called the kingdom of providence, 
 the kingdom of grace, and the kingdom 
 of glory. 
 
 " By the kingdom of p7'ovidence is 
 meant the rule of the Creator over all that 
 be has created. He has made the 
 worl-ds, the sun, moon, and stars, the earth, 
 and all that is on it, and he takes care 
 of them all, so that ' not a sparrow fall- 
 etli to the ground without his notice.' 
 This we call providence. Do you under- 
 stand?"
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 171 
 
 " Yes, sir," they replied. 
 
 "By the kingdom of grace we mean the 
 government of God over his Church on 
 earth. But, children, how does God gov- 
 ern liis Church, by force, or by love ?" 
 
 " By love," was quickly responded. 
 
 "And if God governs by love, where 
 must be the seat of his government ?" 
 
 " In the heart," timidly answered Rob- 
 ert, after a long pause. 
 
 " "Why so ?" asked Henry. 
 
 " Because we love with our hearts, do 
 we not, Mr. Woodman ?" 
 
 "A very good reason, Robert, and a 
 correct one too. Can any one give us 
 Scripture to prove this ?" 
 
 The children thought for some mo- 
 ments, but no text which they deemed 
 suitable suggested itself. 
 
 " Turn, Susan, if you please, to Jere- 
 miah xxxi, 33, and read that verse." 
 
 Susan found the place in her Bible, and 
 read : 
 
 " ' But this shall be the covenant that I 
 will make with the house of Israel : After 
 those days, saith the Lord, I will put my
 
 172 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 law in their inward parts, and write it 
 in their liearts ; and I will be their God, 
 and they shall be my people.' " 
 
 " The same words are repeated in Paul's 
 letter to the Hebrews, (viii, 10,) and Clirist 
 himself said on one occasion, ' Behold, the 
 kingdom of God is within you !' Thus you 
 see that the reign of God in the kingdom 
 of his grace on earth must be in the hearts 
 of his people. We shall have more to say 
 about this after a little while. 
 
 "By the kingdom of glory we mean 
 the government of God in heaven over his 
 angels and the glorified saints. 
 
 " But it is in regard to the kingdom of 
 grace that we are to feel the deepest con- 
 cern. Our Father in heaven will govern 
 the world without our care. He will also 
 govern his angels and glorified saints. But 
 he cannot reign in our hearts unless we 
 permit him to ' write his laws ' there, 
 and there erect his throne. When, then, 
 we pray, 'Thy kingdom come,' what do 
 we mean ?" 
 
 " That God may rule in the hearts of 
 men," answered Willie.
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME.'' 173 
 
 " True, Willie ; but do you believe that 
 the time will ever come when God will 
 reign in the hearts of all men ?" asked Mr. 
 AVoodman. 
 
 •' I do," said Charles. 
 
 '^ So do I," "and I," "and I," chimed 
 in half of the company. 
 
 " And what makes vou believe it, chil- 
 dren?" 
 
 " Why, because God has promised it," 
 again answered Charles. 
 
 "Well, give us the proof," replied Henry. 
 
 Charles turned to the second Psalm, and 
 read : "^Ask of me, and I shall give thee 
 the heathen for thine inheritance, and the 
 uttermost parts of the earth for thy pos- 
 session.' " 
 
 " Can you think of any other ?" 
 
 " ' They shall not teach every man his 
 neighbor, and every man his brother, say- 
 ing. Know the Lord, for all shall know 
 me, from the least to the greatest,'" an- 
 »swered Jennie. 
 
 " ' All the ends of the earth shall re- 
 member and turn unto tlicLord, and all the 
 kindreds of nations sluxll worship before
 
 174 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 thee,'" read Robert, liaviiig found the pas- 
 sage in the Psalms. 
 
 " Yes, children, these, and many other 
 texts which we might quote, had we time, 
 go to prove most surely that the kingdom 
 of grace will triumph in the earth. God 
 will 'bring his sons from far, and his 
 daughters from the ends of the earth.' 
 
 " Whether every individual will be a 
 Christian in that day, and really have 
 Christ's kingdom set up in his Jieait or 
 not, is a question about which many wise 
 men have long contended. But this cer- 
 tainly is clear : God has promised that the 
 Gospel shall be preached to every creat- 
 nre, and that ' holiness shall fill the lands.' 
 Many good, great, and wise men, how- 
 ever, do believe that the time will come, 
 when every person who is then living 
 npon the earth will be a true Christian, 
 loving and serving God with the whole 
 heart. 
 
 "We have spoken of the kingdom. 
 Now, children, suppose you were a king, 
 w^hat should you expect your subjects to 
 do?"
 
 ''THY KINGDOM COME." 175 
 
 " Obey me," said one. 
 
 *' Love me," replied anotlier. 
 
 *' Honor me," added a third. 
 
 " Seek my interests," answered a 
 fourth. 
 
 " Fight for me," said Kobert. 
 
 And so the answers ran, each one 
 having some idea of the duty of a sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " What do you think the Saviour means . 
 when he bids us pray, 'Thy will be done 
 on earth as it is in heaven?'" asked Mr. 
 Woodman. 
 
 " Does he mean that men should be as 
 obedient as the angels are ?" asked one. 
 
 "I suppose it does," replied Henry. 
 " Men are the only disobedient beings on 
 earth, so far as we know." 
 
 " But caa we love God as well as the 
 angels, uncle?" asked Jennie, opening 
 lier bright eyes wide in wonder. 
 
 " We can love him with all our heart, 
 can we not, Jennie?" 
 
 "Yes, we ought to," replied the girl; 
 ''but that is not as well as the angels 
 do."
 
 176 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 '^ Perha])s man may not love God a3 
 rnxLch as the spirits in heaven ; but if we 
 love liim with all our heai% and with all 
 our soul^ and with all o^ir strength^ I 
 tliink we shall delight to do his will ; shall 
 we not?" 
 
 "Yes, uncle, I should think so," replied 
 Jennie. 
 
 " Well, mv young friends," said Uncle 
 Henry, " we have now learned four things 
 while looking at this subject: 
 
 " 1. That the kingdom here meant is 
 tlie kingdom of grace. 
 
 '" 2. That the seat of this kingdom is in 
 the heart. 
 
 " 3. That it is designed to be universal. 
 ."4. That it is to be extended by the 
 agency of men. 
 
 ''In regard to the first, we need say 
 nothing more at present. And I think 
 the second is also very clear; for if the 
 king is to reign in love, and not by 
 force, then, surely, he must reign in the 
 heart. 
 
 " But we ought to ask ourselves this ques- 
 tion: Is the kino-dom of God established
 
 . "THY KINGDOM COME." 177 
 
 in our heart f Wliat do you think, 
 boys?" 
 
 There was no rej^ly. It was a question 
 too solemn for a thoughtless answer. 
 Uncle Henry then proposed the same 
 question to the girls ; but they, too, were 
 silent. 
 
 "How many of you think you icant 
 this kingdom established in your hearts ?" 
 again asked Mr. Woodman. 
 
 To this there was a subdued response 
 from all the children. Henry not only 
 marked the deeply solemn faces of 
 the interested group, but he saw also a 
 tear in the eyes of some ; and he knew 
 the Spirit was touching their young 
 lie arts. 
 
 "If you really desire to be subjects of 
 this kingdom, I think you will have the 
 same wish that little Emily had." 
 
 " What was that, Mr. Woodman ?" ask- 
 ed Ella. 
 
 "Emily and her cousin," replied Uncle 
 Henry, " were sewing in their little 
 room, one day, when Bessie, their cousin, 
 began to wish, just as children some-
 
 178 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 times will. She wished she had ' curly 
 hail* ;' and she wished she had * a pony ;' 
 and she wished she had ' ever so much 
 money ;' and so she continued wishing 
 for some time. Then she turned to Emily, 
 and asked, 
 
 "'Xow, Emily, what would you wish 
 for first? just suppose wishes would come 
 to pass. Think now,' she continued, 
 'suppose you could have your wish, 
 what would yours be V " 
 
 " Emil}^ turned up her sweet, serious 
 face, and answered, 
 
 "'A clean heart,. Bessie.' 
 
 "Yes, children, Emily was right. If 
 the kingdom of grace is ever to be set up 
 in our hearts, they must be made clean 
 first. We must have a heart renewed 
 by the Holy Spirit — a friendly, obedient, 
 grateful heart — a heart fearing God, full 
 of tenderness, meekness, and love. 
 
 " If we are the subjects of this kingdom, 
 we shall obey our King; and our King is" 
 Christ. Hear, then, what he says: 'If 
 ye love me, keep my commandments;* 
 and again, ' If ye love me ye will keep
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 179 
 
 my words.' We are to show our love hy 
 our obedience ; wliile, at the same time, 
 our obedience is the fruit of our love. 
 Let me explain this. 
 
 "Suppose Willie's mother should ask 
 him to do something for her, that he did 
 not really like to do, and would not have 
 done if a stranger had desired it. But 
 his mother says, 
 
 " ' My son, if you love me, you will do 
 as I bid you.' 
 
 "N'ow, Willie does love his mother; 
 and so he says to himself: 'This is not a 
 very pleasant job, but mother says I shall 
 do it, if I love her. I will go right away 
 and do it, then, because I do love my 
 mother, and I want to please her ; and I 
 also wish to show her that I love her.' 
 Do you not see, children, that Willie's 
 obedience is both the proof of his love for 
 his mother, and also the fruit or result of 
 that love?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, we see it," they replied. 
 
 " You have said, too, that this kingdom 
 is to be universal, and the Bible teaches 
 us that we are to be co-workers with him in
 
 180 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 the salvation of men. It is God's design 
 that sinners should be led to Christ by the 
 efforts of Christians, aided by the influ- 
 ence of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 "But just consider, for a moment, how 
 much is to be done ; how many are still in 
 sin. Not only are there vast nations and 
 tribes of men who have never seen a 
 Bible, or heard of the Saviour, but there 
 are thousands in our very midst whose 
 hearts are strangers to grace, and ruled 
 by the powers of darkness. 
 
 "There are in the city of New-York 
 thousands of children who never entered 
 a church or a school in their lives, and 
 who cannot read the Bible. Many of 
 them have no home or friends. They 
 live by petty stealing, and are seen in 
 dirty groups at the corners of the streets, 
 and in the miserable rum-cellars. They 
 are really heathen in the midst of a Chris- 
 tian city. 
 
 " And how many of the same class are 
 found in other cities in this land? And 
 what vast numbers in London, and Paris, 
 and the many splendid cities of the old
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 181 
 
 world. Men, women, and children, are 
 all around us by thousands, who are still 
 in the slavery of sin. 
 
 "We, dear children, are to labor 'for 
 tlieir salvation. If we love the Saviour, 
 who died for them as well as for us, we 
 shall do all we can to lead these lost ones 
 to Christ." 
 
 " But, uncle, little folks like us cannot 
 do anything to bring sinners to the Sav- 
 iour, can we?" Willie asked. 
 
 "Can you not pray, AVillie?" 
 
 "Yes, uncle, we can pray; but will 
 that be working ?" 
 
 "It is one kind of labor, and, indeed, a 
 very important kind. It is as much our 
 duty to cry, ' O Lord, revive thy work in 
 the midst of the years, in the midst of the 
 years make known ; in wrath remember 
 mercy,' as it is for the minister to preach, 
 or Christians to exhort men to repent. 
 
 " Sinners will not be converted without 
 the influence of the Spirit. And has not 
 the Saviour said, ' If ye, being evil, know 
 how to give good gifts unto your children, 
 how much more shall your heavenly
 
 182 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 Father give the Holy Spirit to them that 
 ask liim.' It is God's will that the Holy 
 Spirit slioiild be given in answer to prayer. 
 And he will give this Spirit just as readily 
 in answer to the prayer of a child, if it be 
 offered in faith, as in answer to the suppli- 
 cations of those who are older. 
 
 " Suppose a father had a number of 
 children ; some were grown to manhood, 
 others were of tender years. ISTow, which 
 would he most readily listen to, and whose 
 wants would he be most likely to satisfy 
 first, the older or the younger ?" 
 
 " The younger," the children replied. 
 
 "Doubtless he would. But our heav- 
 enly Father can answer all at the same 
 time. He can supply your wants and 
 mine at the same moment. And ' who- 
 soever will ask in faith, shall receive.' 
 
 " Certainly, children, you can pray for 
 sinners. Xot only for those immediately 
 around you, but for those afar ofi". Pray 
 for the poor heathen ; pray for the mis- 
 sion-^fy ; pray for the ignorant, degraded, 
 poverty-stricken thousands in our own 
 cities.
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 383 
 
 "But when you say, 'Tliy kingdom 
 come; thy will be done on earth as it is 
 in heaven,' you must resolve to do some- 
 thing besides pray." 
 
 " But what can we do ?" asked Robert, 
 in a tone which showed that he was really 
 desirous of doing something. 
 
 " Well, children, how many have eaten 
 candy or sweetmeats of any kind during 
 the past week ?" 
 
 Almost every hand was up. 
 
 " Where did you get it ?" again asked 
 Henry. 
 
 " At the store," was answered. 
 
 " How much did you pay for it ?" 
 
 Here there was quite a variety of an- 
 swers. Some liad expended but a single 
 penny, while others had spent as many as 
 three or four. 
 
 " How many of you, think you, buy such 
 things every week ?" 
 
 About the same number of hands were 
 raised as before. They didn't see, how- 
 ever, what Mr. Woodman wanted to ask 
 such questions for. They thought all 
 children loved candy, and bought it, too,
 
 184 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 when thej could obtain pennies to buy it 
 with. 
 
 " Did you ever hear of the missionary- 
 cause, children ?" 
 
 " Certainly," they replied ; for they had 
 all heard of it. 
 
 *' Did you ever know of a collection 
 being taken for this cause?" 
 
 ^'O, yes." 
 
 '' What did they want with the money 
 which they collected?" 
 
 '^ Why, they wanted it for the mission- 
 ary, and to buy Bibles and good books for 
 the poor heathen, to be snre.'^ 
 
 ^'^ Very true. Now let us cipher a little. 
 There are in the United States fro-mtwo to 
 three millions of Sabbath-school scholars. 
 Say tv/o and a half millions. Now, if each 
 of these scholai-s should pay one cent per 
 year into the missionary treasury, how 
 much would it am.ount to ?" 
 
 Charles took a pencil and paper from 
 his pocket, and after figuring a few mo- 
 mentSy replied, 
 
 " Twenty-five thousand dollars." 
 
 "Eight, Charles. jSTow, remember.
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 185 
 
 this is only taking one cent of your candy 
 money. Should we increase it to four it 
 would make the very handsome sum of 
 one hundred thousand dollars ! And 
 where is the boy or girl who could not 
 save or earn one cent in three months for 
 sucli a purpose?" 
 
 The children were perfectly amazed. 
 They looked upon one another, and seem- 
 ed to be saying in their hearts, " Why, 
 how easy it is to do good ?" At length 
 Nathan remarked : 
 
 ^'But, Mr. Woodman, very many of the 
 scholars in the Sabbath schools are poor, 
 very poor." 
 
 " I know that, Nathan ; but do you not 
 think there are very many also who could 
 give, instead of one cent a quarter, a cent 
 every month just as well as not?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I think there are," answered 
 Nathan. 
 
 " Well, let us suppose that one in every 
 ten of the Sabbath-school scholars of the 
 land should put into the missionary box 
 one cent every month, what would it 
 amount to?"
 
 186 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 After a little more figuring one of the 
 boys answered. 
 
 "Thirty thousand dollars, sir." 
 
 " I believe you are right. And do you 
 think this could be done ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered every one in the 
 same breath. 
 
 " So do I, children. And I think in this 
 way even little folks can do something. 
 What a vast amount of good such a sum 
 of money would accomplish I How many 
 Bibles it would print! How many hearts 
 it would gladden which are now sorrowful 
 in darkness and sin I 
 
 " My dear children, do not think that 
 you cannot do anything for God ; anything 
 to hasten the day when the will of the 
 Lord shall be 'done on earth as it is in 
 heaven.' There are many, many ways in 
 which you may work. Kot only by pray- 
 ing and giving, but by exhibiting a Chris- 
 tian spirit, and doing those little acts, 
 which only children can do. 
 
 "Had I time I could tell you of many, 
 young as are you, who have been the 
 means of leading great and wise men to the
 
 "THY KINGDOM COME." 187 
 
 Saviour. Ask God to teach you how to 
 do good, and he will not refuse. Your 
 little hands may not be able to break up 
 the hard and fallow ground, but they can 
 scatter seeds of beautiful flowers, which 
 will spring up and blossom to cheer the 
 heart of him who labors to cultivate the 
 rugged soil. Will you try to do so ?" 
 
 "We will try, sir," was the firm re- 
 sponse.
 
 188 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BEGINNING TO WORK. 
 
 Little Clara Wiiitlirope was a modest, 
 thoiiglitful girl of ten. Her mother was a 
 good Christian woman, and did what she 
 could as the mother of five children, the 
 oldest of which was Clara, to train them 
 Tip in the path of wisdom and virtue. 
 
 But, alas ! her husband was intemper- 
 ate ! Once a smart, active, intelligent 
 man, and a skillful mechanic, he had de- 
 scended step by step, from his high posi- 
 tion in the esteem of the community, until 
 now he was a poor, degraded outcast! 
 Every cent he could obtain went for rum. 
 
 Nor was the liome of the miserable man 
 ail exception to the many of this class, 
 which have been so often described. Its 
 purity was polluted by his profane words, 
 and all the kindred vices which usually 
 cluster in the heart of the intemperate. 
 Hunger was no stranger at their dayly
 
 BEGINNING TO WORK. 189 
 
 board, and grim want was ever looking in 
 at the open door. 
 
 Such was the home of the modest little 
 Clara, who had sat quietly among tlie 
 children in the Old Elm, and listened to 
 the teacliings of the young clergyman. 
 
 Deeply serious and thoughtful was the 
 countenance of the child {is she bid Sarah 
 *' Good-night," at the entrance of the lane 
 which led to her humble home, and the 
 tears w^elled up from her feeling heart, 
 and filled her soft blue eyes, and ran down 
 her cheeks as she tliought of lier poor 
 father. O, if lie would leave off drinking, 
 and be as kind and loving as he used to 
 be when she was a little, prattling, rosy- 
 cheeked child upon his knee, how happy 
 they all should be ! 
 
 " I wish I could do something for dear 
 father," she said aloud, as she w^alked up 
 the lane toward the house, "I mean to 
 pray for him every night and morning !" 
 continued the girl. " O what a good fother 
 he nsed to be ""before he — " became a 
 drunkard ! she was going to say ; but 
 the w^ords seemed so awful that she
 
 190 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 Stopped short, and with a sigh entered 
 the house. 
 
 Little did Clara think that any one was 
 listening to her earnest words, and observ- 
 ing her tearful grief ; and yet it was true. 
 Richard Winthrope had been lying for 
 hours beneath the fence by the side of the 
 lane, sleeping off the effects of his morn- 
 ing's debauch. The opening of the rick- 
 ety gate, and the " Good-evening" of the 
 two girls, partially awoke him, and when 
 he heard the voice of his little daughter, 
 saying, " I wish I could do something for 
 dear father," he was fully aroused. The 
 ■vi'ords smote upon his heart. He put aside 
 the green twigs "with his trembling hand, 
 and there, right before him, with the tears 
 filling ]ier beautiful eyes, was his still 
 loving daughter. And when he heard the 
 resolve of the little girl to go with her 
 sorrows, morning and evening, to her 
 heavenly Father, he trembled, for he 
 knew that he was a prayer-hearing 
 God. 
 
 When the child entered the house, the 
 poor, miserable father fell back again upon
 
 BEGINNING TO WORK. 191 
 
 the soft green grass, and gave himself up 
 to thought. 
 
 How vividly the sorrowful past came 
 up to view. He thought of the time when 
 he first saw the beautiful Helen Ingalls, 
 and the subsequent friendship whicli ripen- 
 ed at length into mutual love. He thought 
 of his vows at the marriage jaltar, and the 
 sunny days which succeeded, as with his 
 happy wife he lived in the beautiful cot- 
 tage which he could then call his own. 
 Again he pressed to his loving heart his 
 little daughter, his first-born, and kissed 
 for the first time his own child! O, those 
 were happy days, and scarce a cloud dim- 
 med the brightness of his sky ! Loved by 
 his trusting wife, respected by all around 
 him, and prosperous in his business, what 
 more had he to ask? 
 
 Then the mind of the poor man ran 
 along the days, and months, and years 
 which had since gone by ; and as a vivid 
 view of their gathering darkness and sor- 
 row came upon him, as the sad change 
 was fully realized, and the great height 
 from which he had fallen was clearly per-
 
 192 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 ceived, he covered his face with his 
 hands and wept. 
 
 And wh}^ was he thus? Once, as we 
 have said, he was respected by all, loved 
 by many, and honored most by those 
 who knew him best. E'ow be was, what 
 Clara had feared to pronounce, a poor 
 drunkard. And why ? All for his wick- 
 ed, selfish love of rum: For this he had 
 sold honor, reputation, propert}^, domestic 
 comfort, and personal happiness. And, 
 alas! what had he received in return? 
 The thought was too full of anguish, and 
 he groaned aloud. 
 
 But in the midst of this anguish, stirred 
 in the heart of the ruined man by a glance 
 of the past, there was one thought of joy, 
 one little ray of hope. Clara would pray 
 for him. "IN^ight and morning," his little, 
 pure-minded, trusting daughter would ask 
 God to bless her poor, wicked father. 
 The thought came like a "beam of glad 
 sunshine to his darkened soul, relieving 
 what otherwise would have been black 
 despair. 
 
 He again raised himself half upright,
 
 BEGINNING TO WORK. 193 
 
 and sat there, with his face buried in his 
 hands, deeply lost in thought. The sun 
 went down behind the western hills, and 
 his last smile faded from the brow of the 
 old mountain king, and the bright stars 
 came out in the clear sky above, and 
 looked down upon the poor degraded 
 man ; and still he sat beneath the hedge, 
 bowed by the heavy burden of his inde- 
 scribable anguish. 
 
 "Fool and wretch that I am!" he ex- 
 claimed, as he raised his head from his 
 tear-washed hands. "Fool, to seek for 
 happiness in that which is every moment 
 increasing my misery ; and wretch, to 
 afflict and ruin the kindest of wives and 
 the best of children. What was I once? 
 what am I now? But, thank God, 1 am not 
 dead. Heavenly Father," he cried, raising 
 his eyes to heaven, "help me to be a man, 
 a father, and a — " Christian, he was about 
 to say ; but he thought of his great wicked- 
 ness, aird he dared not offer the prayer. 
 
 The poor man arose and entered the 
 house. Supi)er was awaiting him, but he 
 could not eat. lie looked upon the pale,
 
 194 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 care-worn face of his still loving wife ; and 
 read there the sad doings of his own 
 brutish selfishness. He looked upon his 
 ragged, hungry children ; and again "self- 
 ishness" was whispered bj conscience. 
 He caught the gaze of his eldest-born fix- 
 ed upon him, and seemed to read in the 
 sad, earnest look of the child, the prayer 
 which was struggling up from her trusting 
 heart. 
 
 When the Sabbath came, Mr. Win- 
 thrope did not, as was his wont, go to the 
 tavern, where he was in the habit of 
 meeting his boon companions ; but he took 
 his hat, and sauntered out into the fields. 
 
 It "was a bright morning, and ever}^- 
 thing around him seemed full of praise. 
 The birds- were singing, the flowers were 
 smiling, streamlets dancing, insects chirp- 
 ing, and squirrels chattering merrily, as 
 he wandered on through field, and copse, 
 and grove. God was all around him. 
 Every bright flower seemed gifted with 
 an eye to see, and every living thing with 
 instinct to read the dark, deep vileness of 
 his guilty heart.
 
 BEGINNING TO WORK. 195 
 
 Tlirowing himself on his knees upon the 
 grass, beneath a spreading tree, he prayed. 
 He asked God for strength, for power to 
 break tlie spell of the charmer. And liis 
 prayer was heard. Tliere, bowed in spirit, 
 feelir.g deeply his gnilt, conscious of his 
 weakness, and trusting alone in his heav- 
 enly Father for aid, he resolved to reform, 
 resolved to be free. 
 
 When this resolution was once fully 
 formed, he seemed a new man. New 
 energy was his. The long slumbering 
 purposes of his better nature — all that had 
 once distinguished him as a man of pecu- 
 liar moral strength and virtuous decision — 
 awoke in his heart. He stood up erect. 
 He looked around upon nature, and a glad 
 smile seemed resting, as a beam of light, 
 upon every object. He was indeed free. 
 The scepter of the cruel one was broken, 
 and his power to hurt was spoiled. 
 
 Again he fell upon his knees, and the 
 incense of gratitude arose from the altar 
 of his aspiring heart, wafted to heaven by 
 the glad breathings of joyful praise. He 
 could not refrain i'rom praising God aloud ;
 
 196 VOICES FEOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 for such an aiis^ver to his prayer, sucli a 
 mighty change as he felt was wronght in 
 his nature by the mighty power of God, 
 he had scarcely dared to hope for. It 
 seemed too much for him to expect ; but 
 repentance and faith, with him as with 
 Paul, had accomplished the mighty work. 
 Hopeless indeed would be the effort to 
 describe the happiness of that family, 
 when the husband and father gathered 
 them about him, and told what God had 
 wrought. Little Clara sprang to his arms, 
 and, clasping his neck, lay pressed to liis 
 heart. She was too happy for tears, too 
 happy foi'^vvords even ; but the silent 
 sympathy of her loving heart told all its 
 wondrous burden of joy, in a language 
 which the answering affection of the 
 father alone could understand.
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD/' 197 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 " GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAYLY BREAD." 
 
 Another meeting in the Old Elm, with 
 a cloudless sky above, and beauty all 
 around. The children are all there. Lit- 
 tle Ella has fully recovered, and can run 
 with the merriest of the merry group. All 
 are happy ; but upon no countenance is 
 there so much of intense joy, so much of 
 deep, abiding happiness, as upon that of 
 beautiful, rosy-cheeked Clan^ "Winthrope. 
 And w^hy should she not be one of the 
 happiest girls living? Has not her heav- 
 enlv Father onjven her the one s^reat desire 
 of her heart? Her father is no longer a 
 drunkard ! Morning and evening he kneels 
 at the family altar, with his wife by his 
 j^ide, and his children around him, and 
 nfi'ers to God the incense of praise and 
 thanksgiving. He is a Christian, and, 
 pressing his little daughter to his heart, 
 bays, " Clara, you have saved your fiither
 
 198 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 from ruin !" Saved her father ! She, a 
 little girl of ten ! 
 
 Yes, reader, it is true. The prayers 
 and Christian influence of the little girl 
 had saved her father from a drunkard's 
 ffrave ! Who can doubt it ? And has not 
 Clara good reason to be happy ? 
 
 But the good resulting from the little 
 girl's resolve to pray for the conversion of 
 her father did not stop there. Like every 
 other good in this world, it was progressive. 
 Mr. Winthrope no sooner felt the pardon- 
 ing love of God in his own soul than he 
 began to speak of it to others. It seemed 
 to impel him to labors of mercy ; and the 
 reformed man went out among his former 
 associates in wickedness, and told them 
 what God had done for him. 
 
 Great w^as the commotion occasioned by 
 this unlooked-for event. Some, it is true, 
 ridiculed the idea that such a notorious 
 drunkard as "Dick Winthrope" should 
 become a Christian, all of a sudden. The 
 thought was absurd ! Others were full of 
 doubts. They hoped the reformation would 
 prove genuine, but they liad their fears.
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 199 
 
 If the poor man could stand alone, with- 
 out sympathy, without the aid of friends 
 or the solace of kindly greetings, why, 
 after a while, when he had " proved him- 
 self sincere,'' these very kind individuals 
 would receive him to their confidence ! 
 But now, when he needed their help the 
 most, they had no helping hand to offer. 
 
 But, thank God, there were others who 
 proved the truth of their faith in Christ, 
 by imitating his divine example ! Glad 
 in their hearts that a sinner was struggling 
 to be free, they did not pause to inquire 
 what he had been, but thought only of 
 what he might be. They gathered around 
 the penitent man, and gave him their 
 hands with so much of cordial sympathy, 
 that every doubt of their sincerity was 
 dispelled from his heart. 
 
 There were still others to whom the 
 words and spirit of the reformed man 
 came with power. These were his poor 
 rum-ruined associates. Dick was their 
 best man. His song was the merriest, his 
 joke the keenest, his speeches the funniest, 
 and his company the most welcome of any 
 13
 
 200 VOICES FEOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 who gathered in the old bar-room of the 
 low tavern, on the long winter evenings, 
 and still longer Sabbaths. They could 
 ill afford to lose so valuable a com- 
 panion, and therefore, at their firet meet- 
 ing after his conversion, they devised 
 measures to get him back again to their 
 circle, if possible. 
 
 Eichard Winthrope,. however, remained 
 firm. He viewed his escape as little short 
 of mimculons ; and he knew well that his 
 only hope was in perfect decision, and firm 
 trust in God. "When, therefore, he met 
 his former companions, as he soon did, 
 either casually by the wayside or pur- 
 posely at their homes, they found him 
 firm i^ his purposes, but with a heart tcto 
 full of love to be resisted. His kind 
 words melted away their hardness, and 
 his great happiness made their misery 
 seem all the more dark' and fearful in the 
 contrast. They could not help acknowl- 
 v 'Iging that his way of seeking enjoyment 
 was far jiuperior to theirs ; and in their 
 liearts^hey honored him the more for his 
 manly decision and holy purposes.
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 201 
 
 The news of the dmnkard's convei'sion 
 spread widely, and many were encouraged 
 to pray that it might prove the beginning 
 of a gracious w^ork in that pkice. 
 
 Henry Woodman was liappy. The lit- 
 tle seeds which he was so carefully and 
 prayerfully planting in those young hearts 
 were springing up. Indeed, fruit was ap- 
 pearing. What encouragement to labor ! 
 And as he knelt, with the children again 
 around him, and offered up a fervent 
 prayer to God, and asked for Divine 
 guidance, the precious promise was ap- 
 plied with power to his heart : " Accord- 
 ing to thy faith, be it unto thee ;" and he 
 claimed the promise. 
 
 "Willie, will you read us the subject 
 for conversation to-day?" asked Henry, 
 when they were again seated. 
 
 " ' Give us this day our clayly hread^ " 
 answered Willie, without opening his 
 Bible. 
 
 " Yery well. !N"ow the first thing for 
 us to do is to fix the meaning of these 
 words. Our Saviour has taught us to 
 pray for our dayly bread ; but are there
 
 202 VOICES fro:m the old elm. 
 
 not other blessings equally as necessary as 
 bread?" 
 
 " I should think so," answered JSTathan. 
 
 "Why, then, is the prayer for bread 
 only ?" 
 
 ITone could tell. They thought that 
 drink and raiment, and shelter from the 
 cold and storm, were just as necessary 
 as bread. Strange that they had never 
 thought of this before ! 
 
 " By ' bread,' in this clause of the 
 prayer," continued Mr. Woodman, "I 
 suppose that we are not to undei*stand 
 simply what we need to eat, but all that 
 is necessary to support life, whether it be 
 food or drink, or any other bodily com- 
 fort, without which we should perish. 
 But as food, or bread, is the greatest of 
 these wants, or that which we feel the 
 soonest and most severely, it is here made 
 to include all the rest. When, therefore, 
 we are instructed by Christ to pray for 
 ' dayly bread,' we should understand that 
 the word includes every earthly comfort 
 which our bodies need. Do you under- 
 stand me?"
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 203 
 
 "Yes, sir," was quickly answered. 
 
 "Well, then, if we understand the 
 plain meaning of the words, the next 
 thing to be considered is the form of the 
 petition. Please listen attentively while 
 I repeat these words again ?" 
 
 The children all listened while Mr 
 Woodman repeated, "Give us this day 
 our dayly bread." 
 
 "E'ow, children, what is the first idea 
 which you gain from these words?" 
 
 They thought earnestly for some mo- 
 ments. At length Robert timidly replied : 
 
 " That we are beggars." 
 
 "You mean by that, Robert, I suppose, 
 that we. have nothing with which to pay 
 for what we ask of God," replied Uncle 
 Henry. 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Robert. 
 
 "That is true. Our prayer must be, 
 ' Give us,' not sell to us, nor lend to us, nor 
 distribute to us, anything deserved ; but 
 give us. There is another important 
 thought here. Can you point it out ?" 
 
 No one was able to do so, and Mr. 
 Woodman continued.
 
 204 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "It is tliis: This necessary good for 
 whicli we are taught to pray, must be 
 sought dayly. The prayer is, ' Give us this 
 day our dayly bread.' This means that 
 we must ask God every day for the bless- 
 ings needed for the comfort of that day. 
 It is not, give us so many blessings to-day, 
 that we shall not have occasion to pray 
 for more to-morrow ; but give us dayly. 
 Hence you learn that God intends his 
 creatures should pray to him every day ; 
 that they should never forget him. Can 
 you give me an instance from the Bible 
 where God has taught the same great 
 truth?" 
 
 " God gave the manna fresh every 
 morning," said Charles. 
 
 " But wasn't that because it would not 
 keep but one day?" asked E'athan. 
 "You know that some of the Israelites 
 tried to preserve it until the next day, 
 and it spoiled." 
 
 " How was it on the Sabbath ? did 
 God send any on that day?" asked Mr. 
 Woodman. 
 
 " ]N o, sir ; but he gave a double portion
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 205 
 
 on the sixth day, did he not, uncle?" re- 
 plied Willie. 
 
 " Did that which was given on the 
 sixth day spoil?" 
 
 " JS'o, sir." 
 
 "Why not, Willie?" 
 
 "God kept it from spoiling, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 "Yes, Willie, you are right. And he 
 could have done the same with the man- 
 na which was given on the otlier days; 
 but he seems to have chosen to keep his 
 people in remembrance of their depend- 
 ence upon him. But God had another 
 purpose, it appears, in giving this double 
 portion on the sixth day. Can you tell 
 me what it was, Robert?" 
 
 "He would not have them break the 
 Sabbath by gathering the mamia on that 
 day," replied the boy. 
 
 " Does the Bible say so ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Robert, turning to 
 the sixteenth chapter of Exodus, and 
 reading : 
 
 " ' And it came to pass that on the sixth 
 day they gathered twice as much bread,
 
 206 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 two omers for one man : and all the 
 rulers of the congregation came and told 
 Moses. 
 
 " ' And he said unto them, This is that 
 which the Lord said. To-morrow is the 
 rest of the holy Sabbath unto the Lord: 
 bake that which ye will bake to-day, 
 and seethe that ye will seethe : and that 
 which remaineth over lay up for you to 
 be kept until the morning. 
 
 "'Six days shall ye gather it; but on 
 the seventh day, which is the Sabbath, in 
 it there shall be none.' " 
 
 " But, Robert, did all the children of 
 Israel observe what God* said?" asked 
 Mr. Woodman. 
 
 " They did not. Some of them refused 
 to believe what Moses had told them ; 
 and they, therefore, went out on Sabbath 
 morning, as they had on other mornings, 
 to gather manna." 
 
 " Did they find any ?" 
 
 " jS"©, sir. They were disappointed : 
 and the Lord was displeased with them, 
 and reproved them." 
 
 " A beautiful lesson is here, dear chil-
 
 < '^OUll DAYLY BREAD." 207 
 
 dren ; and one which I hope you will 
 never forget. . It is always safe to per- 
 fectly trust and implicitly obey God. 
 
 " My young friends, there is one thing 
 more in regard to this prayer of which I 
 wish to speak. We have considered its 
 meaning and its force ; let us now con- 
 sider its spirit. 
 
 " Whoever offers this prayer in its true 
 spirit, must acknowledge his dependence 
 on his heavenly Father. He must come 
 in the true spirit of dependence. 
 
 "JSTot a mouthful of food can man 
 cause to grow, to satisfy his oft-recurring 
 hunger. IS'ot a cup of water can he dis- 
 till fi'om the clouds, though he were dying 
 of thirst. All power is with God. What 
 can man do ? His heavenly Father must 
 give him the seed to sow, and the power 
 to sow it. 'Tis he also who distilleth the 
 dews, and sendeth the rain, and givetli 
 the sunshine, and holdeth the winds in 
 his hands. Yes, God alone hath power. 
 He wills, and the frosts of winter are 
 gone, and tlie rills go dancing over the 
 plains; and the flowers spring, and the
 
 208 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 fields are clothed with verdure, and the 
 forests with foliage. He wills, and sum- 
 mer comes, and drinks up the dew, and 
 dries up the dancing streamlet, and 
 scorches and withers the face of nature, as 
 .with the breath of the sirocco. He wills 
 again, and autumn follows, and the latter 
 rain is given, and the harvest is perfected, 
 and man gathers it into barns and store- 
 houses. And then the fire is kindled, and 
 the door of our dwelling is closed, lest stern 
 old winter should enter, and chill us with 
 his icj presence ; for he, too, comes at the 
 bidding of Jehovah. 
 
 "Not one man on all the face of the 
 earth can live a single day unless God gives 
 him his ' day ly bread.' Food and drink, 
 raiment and shelter, health and friends, 
 and whatever is essential to our comfort, is 
 the good gift of the ' Father of mercies.' 
 
 "This petition is also an expression of 
 faith. 
 
 "We must 'draw nigh,' when we oflfer 
 this prayer, ' with true hearts, in full 
 assurance of faith,' for ' without faith it is 
 impossible to please him.'
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 209 
 
 "But faith, in order that it may pre- 
 vail with God, must be active. I mean 
 by this that we must do as well as pray ; 
 we must act as well as desire. Our 
 heavenly Father will never do for us 
 what we can do for ourselves. He has 
 given us powers of mind and body ; we 
 must employ these powers in active labors. 
 The sluggard, who sleeps in the spring, 
 must not expect that God will give him 
 a harvest in the autumn, even should he 
 spend the whole summer in prayer; for 
 God has said, ' He shall beg in harvest, 
 and have nothinor.' The command to all 
 is, ' Go, work !' 
 
 " But when we have done all that is in 
 our power to do, then we may safely trust 
 tlie rest to God. You doubtless rem.ember 
 what David said on this point. Can any 
 one tell me ?" 
 
 " ' I have been young and now am old ; 
 yet have I not seen the righteous foi-saken, 
 nor his seed begging bread,' " replied 
 Willie. 
 
 " Yes, Willie, tliat's the text which was 
 in my mind. But I would not have you
 
 210 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 tliink it the only promise which the right- 
 eous have to cling to, for there are many. 
 Our Father in heaven will no more forget 
 or neglect one of his obedient children 
 than your parents would forget you, or 
 neglect your little brother or sister. Let 
 me relate a few incidents, showing the 
 faithfulness of God in hearing prayer, and 
 providing for the wants of those who trust 
 in him. 
 
 "It was a season of great scarcity on 
 the hill regions of Xew-Hampshire, when 
 a poor woman, who lived in a hut by the 
 W'Oods, had no bread for her little family. 
 She was sick, and without either friends 
 or money. There was no helper but God, 
 and she betook hereelf to prayer. She 
 prayed long and earnestly ; for she be- 
 lieved that He who fed the young ravens 
 w^ould feed her. 
 
 " On rising from her knees one morn- 
 ing, her little barefooted girl opened tlie 
 door to go out. Something shining on 
 the sill stopped her. The child stooped 
 down, and, behold, a silver dollar ! She 
 ran and took it to her mother. It really
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 211 
 
 was a new, round, bright silver dollar. 
 They looked up and down the road ; not 
 a living person was in sight, and neither 
 footstep or wagon wheels were to be 
 heard. 
 
 " Where did the dollar come from ? 
 Did God send it ? Doubtless it was from 
 his hand ; but how did it get there ? Did 
 it rain down? 'No; that could not be. 
 Did an angel fetch it ? No ; God has 
 ways and means for answering prayer 
 without sending special messengers. He 
 touches some little spring, in the great 
 machinery of his providence, without in 
 the least disturbins: its res^nlaritv, and 
 help comes. Sometimes we do not see 
 exactly how, as this poor woman did not ; 
 but it is, nevertheless, true that all bless- 
 ings come from God." 
 
 " But how did the silver dollar get on 
 the door sill, uncle?" asked Jennie, unable 
 longer to restrain her curiosity. 
 
 " It happened in this wise, Jennie. A 
 pious young blacksmith was leaving his 
 home for the sea-board, in quest of busi- 
 ness. It was several miles before he could
 
 212 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 take the stage-coach, so, instead of going 
 in the wagon which carried his chest, he 
 said he would walk. 
 
 " ' Come, ride,' his friends said : ' it will 
 be hot and dusty.' 
 
 " ' No,' answered the young man ; ' I'll 
 walk, and take a short cut through the 
 pines;' and off he started, with a stout 
 walking-stick. 
 
 " As he was jogging on through a piece 
 of woods, he heard a voice from a little, 
 lonely hut, by the road-side. It drew his 
 notice, and he stepped toward it on tip- 
 toe. Then he stopped and listened, and 
 found it was the voice of prayer ; and he 
 gathered from the prayer that she who 
 offered it was poor, sick, and friend- 
 
 " ' "What can I do to help this poor wo- 
 man?' thought the young man. He did 
 not like to go into the hut. He clapped 
 his hand into his pocket, and drew out a 
 dollar. It was the first silver dollar he 
 ever had, and a dollar was a big sum for 
 him to give, for he was not as rich then 
 as he is now. But no matter ; he felt that
 
 THE POOR WOUAN'S UKKNOWN FRIEND.
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 21o 
 
 the poor woman must have it. The dol- 
 lar being silver, and likely to attract 
 notice as soon tis the door was opened, he 
 concluded to lay it on the sill, and go 
 away, but not far. He hid behind a large 
 rock, near the house, to watch what be- 
 came of his money. Soon he had the 
 satisfaction of seeing the little girl come 
 out, and seize the prize, when he went on 
 his way rejoicing. 
 
 " Kow just see how God answered tlie 
 prayer of this poor woman! The silver 
 dollar, doubtless, came into this young 
 man's hand for this very purpose ; for you 
 see a paper dollar might have blown away.- 
 Then, again, he was led to walk, instead 
 of ride — why, he did not exactly know ; 
 but God, who directed his steps, did 
 know. 
 
 "So, children, God plans, and we are 
 the instruments to carry on his plans. 
 Oftentimes we seem to be about our own 
 business, when, in truth, we are about his, 
 answering, it may be, the prayers of his 
 people. 
 
 " Here is another incident which I met
 
 216 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 with in my reading, the other day. I 
 think it is very beautiful and touch- 
 ing. 
 
 " In a miserable cottage, at the bottom 
 of a hill, two children hovered over a 
 smoldering fire. A tempest raged with- 
 out, a fearful tempest, against which man 
 and beast were alike powerless. 
 
 " A poor old miser, much poorer than 
 these shivering children, though he had 
 heaps of money at home, drew his ragged 
 cloak about him, as he crouched down at 
 the threshold of the miserable door. He 
 dared not enter, for fear they would ask 
 pay for shelter, and he could not move 
 for the storm. 
 
 " ^ I am hungry, Nettie,' cried the little 
 boy. 
 
 '"So am I,' replied his sister. Tve 
 hunted for a potato paring, and I can't 
 find any.' 
 
 " ' What an awful storm !' 
 
 " ' Yes ; and the old tree has blown 
 down! I guess God took care that it 
 didn't blow on the house. See, it cer- 
 tainly would have killed us.'
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD/' 217 
 
 " ' If he could do that, couldn't he send 
 us bread, sister V 
 
 " ' I guess so : let's pray '' our Father ;" 
 and, when we come to that point, stop till 
 we get some bread.' 
 
 " So they began ; and the miser, 
 crouching and shiveiing, listened. When 
 they paused, expecting, in their childish 
 faith, to see some miraculous manifesta- 
 tion, a human feeling stole into his heart. 
 God sent some angel to soften it. The 
 old man had bought a loaf at the village, 
 thinking that it would last him a great 
 many days; but the silence of the two 
 little children spoke louder to him tlian 
 the voice of many waters. He opened 
 the door softly, threw in the loaf, and then 
 listened to the wild, eager cry of delight 
 that came from the half-famished little 
 ones. 
 
 " ' It dropped right down from heaven ! 
 didn't it ?' continued the younger. 
 
 " * Yes ; I mean to love God forever, for 
 giving us bread because we asked him,' 
 replied the sister. 
 
 ii t "We']! a,gi^ him every day ; won't wo? 
 u
 
 218 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 Why, I never thought God was so good ! 
 did you V 
 
 . " ' Yes, I always thought so ; but I never 
 quite knew it before.' 
 
 " ' Let's ask him to give father work to 
 do all the time, so we never need be 
 hungry again : he'll do it, I'm sure.' 
 
 " The storm passed away> and the miser 
 went home. A little flower had sprung 
 up in his heart ; it was no longer barren. 
 In a few weeks he died ; but not before 
 he had given the cottage, which was his, 
 to the poor laboring man. 
 
 " I will relate one more^ that I just now 
 think of. . 
 
 "In a village near Cologne, on the 
 River Khine, there lived a widow, with 
 nine children, in extreme poverty. She 
 was a Christian, and had learned to trust 
 in God. 
 
 " When, therefore, her children cried 
 for bread, she usually sought " to pacify 
 them by saying, ' My dear children, j ust 
 have a little patience ; our Father in 
 heaven will soon come, and bring what 
 will supply oiir wants' And that Father,
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 219 
 
 to whom she pointed her little flock, never 
 failed to come to her relief, and to confirm 
 her trust and confidence in his gracious 
 promise, when he styles himself, ' a Father 
 of the fatherless, and a Judge of the 
 widow.' 
 
 " On one occasion, during the winter 
 season, her heart was ready to burst on 
 finding she neither had food to set before 
 her hungry children, nor even a copper 
 with which to purchase fuel to keep them 
 from perishing. Hungry and cold, the 
 poor children clustered round the fire- 
 place, crying bitterly. But the trusting 
 mother did not despair: 'Children, only 
 have patience ; our Father will surely 
 come, and help us,' were still her 
 words. 
 
 '' While she was crying from her in- 
 most soul to the Saviour for relief, one of 
 the children, while stirring about the cold 
 peat ashes with the hearth-tongs, found a 
 coin therein, which he took to be a far- 
 thing. 
 
 " ' A farthing ! a farthing, mother !' 
 cried the child, in a transport of joy.
 
 220 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 ' Let me go and buy peat with it, and 
 then we'll get a warm room.' 
 
 " The mother, on examining the sup- 
 posed farthing more closely, while rub- 
 bing it with her apron, discovered that it 
 became more and more yellow. She 
 hastily ran to a jeweler, to show him the 
 coin, and to learn its value, when, lo, it 
 was discovered to be a guinea ! On hear- 
 ing that it was worth about five dollars, 
 she lost no time in buying food for her 
 hungry little ones, and fuel to keep then! 
 warm. 
 
 " I could relate many such incidents as 
 these, showing how truly God hears his 
 children when they cry unto him. The 
 Christian has ever found the promise 
 true : ' Trust in the Lord, and do good ; 
 so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily 
 thou shalt be fed.' 
 
 " Let us endeavor, dear cliildren, to be 
 * co-workers together with God,' in blessing 
 the world. It is our duty to minister to 
 the poor and the needy around us. They 
 are, perhaps, praying, ' Give us this day 
 our dayly bread;' and the Father, to
 
 "OUR DAYLY BREAD." 221 
 
 whom they pray, may be whispering to 
 your hearts, ' Go, and carry them food ; 
 go, and bless them.' This is the way in 
 which he designs to answer their prayers. 
 Do not refuse to obey God ; rather ask, 
 with Paul, 'What wilt thou have me to 
 do?' 
 
 " There are many other things which I 
 would like to say to you, from these words, 
 but we have not the time. It is already 
 growing late, and you must return to your 
 ♦homes; and, as you go, 'ponder tliese 
 things in your hearts.' Try to reduce to 
 practice what you learn, just as Clara has 
 done, and I am sure God will as truly 
 hear you as he did her." 
 
 A prayer was offered, a hymn was sung, 
 and, with new resolves to live for God. and 
 to labor to be useful, the children breathed 
 their "good-night," and parted; loving 
 " their minister," as they called Mr. Wood- 
 man, and loving God and each other, bet- 
 ter than ever.
 
 222 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 NED WILDER. 
 
 One clay, during the following week, 
 Sarah, Clara, and Robert were ont in the 
 pasture, picking berries. They had been 
 enjoying themselves finely for some two 
 hours, when whom should they see coming 
 over the hill but Xed Wilder ! He came 
 sauntering along, stooping now and ther> 
 to pick the delicious strawberries which 
 grew there so plentifully, and evidently 
 did not see Robert and the girls for some 
 moments after he was discovered by them. 
 
 " Halloo, there !" said ]^ed, when he 
 saw the children. ''Got many berries?" 
 he continued, approaching the company. 
 
 " Considerable many," answered Rob- 
 ert, as he turned away to another "thick 
 spot." 
 
 " Let me see," and ]S"ed snatched Clara's 
 basket away from her, and plunged his 
 great, dirty hand into it, clutching a large
 
 NED WILDER. 223 
 
 handful of tlie beautiful berries, and spoil- 
 ing many of those remaining. 
 
 " O, don't, Ned !" cried the gi^l, in be- 
 seeching terms. " I'll give you some if 
 you won't do so." 
 
 The only answer to this appeal was a 
 loud laugh from the boy, as he threw the 
 basket upon the ground, and turned 
 away. 
 
 Robert turned quickly, as he heard the 
 exclamation of Clara ; and, when he saw 
 the boy's wanton act, he advanced a few 
 €teps toward hiin, crying, 
 
 ''That's downright mean, Ked Wilder! 
 A boy that will do that ought to be horse- 
 whipped." 
 
 " Better try to do it. Bob," answered 
 the boy, with a laugh of defiance. 
 
 " Well, sir, I will do it if you don't let 
 the girls alone. They didn't trouble you, 
 I'm sure," replied Hobert, his flashing eye 
 and pale cheek telling of the roused spirit 
 within. 
 
 "Will, hey?" replied the bad boy, 
 snatching Clara's bonnet from her head, 
 as slie stooped to pick up her scattered
 
 224 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 berries, and threw it up into an old scraggy 
 apple-tree. 
 
 Quick as thought Eobert sprung ^upon 
 the wicked boy, and dealt him a blow 
 upon his temple which sent him stagger- 
 ing backward. With a growl of rage and 
 pain, he recovered himself, and rushed 
 upon his assailant, who, with clinched 
 fists, and firmly compressed lips, stood 
 bravely awaiting his onset. 
 
 Sarah and Clara screamed as they saw 
 the fierce boy rushing upon Eobert, for 
 they believed that he would certainly kill 
 him. But with their brave defender there 
 was no sign of fear. His slight figure, 
 with the auburn curls shook back from 
 his high, noble brow, and the bright 
 blue eyes, usually so soft and mild, now 
 flashing a strange light, presented a truly 
 spirited picture. 
 
 Edward was a year older, and much 
 heavier than Eobert, and he did not doubt 
 his ability to conquer him. He was fully 
 determined to give him a dreadful beat- 
 ing. He hated the boy because others 
 loved him ; and he had tried often before
 
 NED WILDER. 226 
 
 to draw him into a quarrel, that he miglit 
 have an opportunity to vent his hatred, 
 by giving him a good flogging. But al- 
 ways before this, Eobert had turned away 
 whenever Edward insulted him, takins" 
 no notice of his vile words and jeering 
 laugh. But to see the wicked boy's 
 cruel treatment of the kind and loviner 
 Clara Winthrope was more than he 
 could endure in silence. Hence the 
 present fight. 
 
 Ned hesitated as he was about to strike 
 with his uplifted fist, for he saw Robert's 
 steady, determined look, and Ned Wilder 
 was a perfect coward, notwithstanding his 
 courageous boasting. He stooped to pick 
 up a stone to hurl at the boy whom he 
 dared not otherwise attack. Robert saw 
 the motion, and before his cowardly foe 
 could -accomplish his base design, he 
 sprang forward and dealt him a second 
 blow in tlie face, which sent the idle cow- 
 ard rolling over upon the ground. 
 
 Just then a man in a carriage came rid- 
 ing along, and seeing the trouble, he stop- 
 ped his horse, alighted from his carriage,
 
 226 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 and walked over toward the company of 
 children. 
 
 Kobert had receded a few steps, after 
 striking Edward ,the second time, and 
 stood in much the same attitude as be- 
 fore. The girls ran toward the man, 
 screaming with terror, while poor Ed- 
 wai-d sat upon the grass, with the blood 
 streaming from his nose, and crj^ing like 
 a great baby. He was badly frightened. 
 
 '''What's the matter here?" asked the 
 man as he came up to the little- group. 
 
 "He's a'most killed me!" whimpered 
 Edward, as he held his head witli one 
 hand, and pointed with his other to 
 Robert. 
 
 The man smiled as he turned from the 
 great two-fisted boy upon the grass, and 
 looked at the slight figure of Robert ; but 
 when he marked the determination of his 
 firm lip, and the fire that burned in his 
 eye, he did not wonder at the result of the 
 battle. 
 
 "Why, Robert!" continued the man, 
 who, being a teacher in the Sabbath 
 school, knew all the cliildren well ; " how
 
 NED WIJ.DEK. 227 
 
 did this happen ? I did not think that 
 you were a fighting boy." 
 
 " I'm hot a fighting boy, sir ; I was only 
 protecting these girls from Ned," replied 
 llobert. " He's a mean, ugly boy, indeed 
 he is!" 
 
 " I'm afraid that is all true, Robert, but 
 what did he do to make it necessary for 
 you to strike him?" again asked the 
 man. 
 
 "Ask the girls, sir; I had rather they 
 would tell you," replied Robert. 
 
 The man turned to the girls, and learn- 
 ed from them all the particulars in the 
 case. Sarah told him just how Ned had 
 snatched Clara's basket, and spilled and 
 destroyed her berries, and thrown her 
 sun-bonnet up into a tree, and then 
 dared Robert to interfere. When the 
 gentleman had heard all about the 
 matter, he turned to Robert and said 
 kindlj : 
 
 "I hardly know how to blame you, 
 my brave boy, for the part you have 
 acted, because you had honorable mo- 
 tives. But still you were doubtless
 
 228 VOICES FKOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 wrong. It would have been better to 
 have borne still more than you did 
 before resorting to force. But I con- 
 fess you had much to excite you. Is 
 this the first time that Edward has troub- 
 led you?" 
 
 "No, sir; he has tried to make me 
 angry, and to get me to fight him ever so 
 many times. He's real ugly, sir !" replied 
 Eobert. 
 
 " Did you ever fight him before ?" 
 
 "No, sir; and I wouldn't now, only I 
 couldn't stand still and see him so ugly to 
 Clara." 
 
 " Why did you never fight him before ? 
 "Were you afraid to?" again asked the 
 man. 
 
 "I am not afraid of him, sir, and never 
 was ;" and the boy drew himself up to his 
 full height, and cast a look full of scorn 
 upon the still blubbering Edward ; " but 
 it's mean and wicked to be always fight- 
 ing, and so I go away and leave boys 
 when they want to fight." ^ 
 
 " What, when they call you a coward, 
 and laugh at you?"
 
 N NED WILDER. 229 
 
 "Yes, sir; I hope I am not afraid to Le 
 called a coward, when I know I am not 
 one. And as for their laugh, what hurt 
 will that do me?" 
 
 "jS^one whatever, my noble lad. Al- 
 ways stick to that, Robert, and you will 
 indeed prove that you are no coward. I 
 ^1* sorry that this affair has happened. 
 And now, Edward," tlie man contin- 
 ued, turning to the boy, who still sat 
 upon the grass, "you see what comes 
 of being wicked and unkind. What 
 did Clara do to you, that you should 
 treat her as you did ?" 
 
 " Nothing," sobbed the boy in reply. 
 
 "Why, then, did you treat her un- 
 kindly?" 
 
 Edward was silent, for he had nothing 
 to answer. He knew he had done wrons:, 
 and also tliat he had no reason for doing 
 as he did. 
 
 "Well, Edward," continued the man, 
 ^* you must change this course. It is not 
 onjy very wicked, and therefore ruinous to 
 yourself, but it is wronging others also. 
 Why should you be permitted to go about
 
 230 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 troubling every civil boy or girl whom 
 yon chance to meet? It cannot be per- 
 mitted any longer, and will not be. Just 
 remember what I say. If you will be- 
 have yourself decently, and be kind, and 
 obliging, and civil, like other boys, very 
 well. But if I hear of any more of your 
 wicked, actions, I will see that you aie 
 taken care of. You might make a good 
 boy ; and if you will reform, and come to 
 the Sabbath school, and also go to the 
 day school, I will do all I can to aid you. 
 And I do not doubt but even Robert and 
 the girls here will forgive you, and do 
 what they can to help you likewise, and 
 make you happy." 
 
 " Yes, indeed we will !" answered Rob- 
 ert, with his noble, generous feelings 
 again springing up in his heart. 
 
 Edward got up and walked slowly away 
 toward a brook, without answering a word. 
 Here he stopped and washed the blood 
 fi-om his face and hands, and then, turn- 
 ing into a little path which led into a 
 grove of young trees, was soon lost to 
 view.
 
 NED WILDER. 231 
 
 The man, also, after giving a few more 
 words of counsel and advice to tlie chil- 
 dren, proceeded on his way, leaving llob- 
 ert and the girls to finish filling their 
 baskets. This was soon done, and they 
 started for home. 
 
 But why did Edward Wilder do as he 
 did? I will tell you. First, he was a 
 vicious boy, and took pleasure in making 
 othei*s unhappy. This was what lie called 
 fun ! " A strange kind of fun," every 
 good child will exclaim. But we must 
 remember that our tastes are almost 
 wholly owing to our culture ; and by 
 tliis I mean the way in which we have 
 been educated or brought up. Edward's 
 pai^nts were wicked. His father wae an 
 intemperate, swearing, fighting man, and 
 had taught his boy to walk in his own 
 steps. His mother, too, was a poor, 
 miserable woman. Ever^^body knew 
 she would lie, and many believed she 
 would steal. Sucb was Edward's home. 
 Can we wonder, then, that he was a 
 vicious boy, and took pleasure in vex- 
 ing others?
 
 232 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 Edwaixi, also, as we have already said, 
 hated Robert because others loved hira. 
 This he could not patiently endure, and he 
 took every opportunity possible to show his 
 hatred. He not only had such feelings 
 toward Eobert, but he felt the same 
 toward all others of his young acquaint- 
 ances, who would not join him in his 
 wicked ways. 
 
 Then, again, he hated Clara in particu- 
 lar, because Mr. Winthrope had reformed, 
 and would no longer associate with his 
 poor, drunken father. This vexed him, 
 and he said he would "let them know 
 that his lather was as good as old Dick 
 Winthrope, if he had become pious!" 
 This accounts for his treatment of the 
 little girl. 
 
 But his evil inclinations led him into 
 sad trouble. He had been whipjDed by 
 a boy smaller than himself; had been 
 disgraced and humbled in the eyes of his 
 wicked associates, for he did not doubt 
 they would soon hear of the occurrence; 
 and, finally, he had been threatened with 
 punishment if he did not mend his ways
 
 NED WILDER. 233 
 
 speedily. Truly, "the way of the trans- 
 gressor is hard." Poor Edward! how 
 much happier he would have been, had 
 he mended his evil ways and become a 
 good and useful man. 
 15
 
 234 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 "FORGIVE US OUR DEBTS, AS WE FORGIVE 
 OUR DEBTORS." 
 
 The event related in the last chapter 
 became ^^enerally known before the next 
 meeting at Rose Cottage. Many and 
 various were the comments made upon 
 it by different persons. Some highly 
 applauded the act, calHng it manly, and 
 Robert a noble little fellow, while others 
 as highly blamed him. 
 
 Robert was naturally a noble-spirited 
 and kind-hearted lad. It was the first 
 " fight" he had ever been engaged in, for 
 usually he was a peace-maker. He re- 
 gretted it deeply, and yet he could not, 
 even upon cool reflection, see how he 
 could have acted much diflferent from 
 what he did, and still have discharged 
 his duty to his little friends. He was re- 
 solved, however, to ask Mr. Worxlman 
 about the matter, and if he had really
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 235 
 
 'done wrong, he felt desirous of making 
 all suitable reparation. 
 
 Mr. Woodman had been informed of 
 the affair, and in his preparation for the 
 next meeting with the children, had en- 
 deavored to arrange his thoughts so as to 
 meet the difficulties of the case. 
 
 Saturday afternoon found them all in 
 their accustomed place, and after the 
 usual opening exercises, Mr. Woodman 
 called for the subject upon which they 
 were to converse. Jennie opened her 
 little Testament and read : 
 
 '« 'Forgive us our debts, as we forgive 
 our debtors.' " 
 
 "A very solemn subject," continued 
 Henry, "and one in which we are all 
 interested. Every person who is old 
 enough to sin, lieeds forgiveness, and 
 without it he w^ill be forever lost. If, 
 then, God will forgive his sins only on 
 certain conditions, it is very important 
 for him to know clearly what those con- 
 ditions are. But tell me what is meant 
 here by dehtsr 
 
 " Sins," replied the children.
 
 236 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "Why so?" asked Mr. Woodman. 
 
 "They are called sins in Luke's Gos- 
 pel," answered Charles. 
 
 " True," replied Henry ; " and sin is 
 often represented in Scripture under the 
 idea of a debt. Every time we sin against 
 God we become more and more indebted 
 to his justice; and when payment is ex- 
 acted, alas, we have nothing wherewith 
 to pay the debt !" 
 
 " But there is still another term by 
 which this debt is described. Can you 
 tell me what it is ?" 
 
 " Trespass," was the reply. 
 
 " Yes ; and surely it is very justly so 
 called. By sinning we trespass upon the 
 just laws of God; we trample upon his 
 rights, and are worthy of condemnation. 
 
 " ' Sin,' says Paul, ' is the transgression 
 of the law ;' and the law of God is his ex- 
 pressed will. Whatever God has revealed 
 as his will concerning us, is his law. It is 
 his will that we should hallow his name in 
 our thoughts, words, and deeds ; and, con- 
 sequently, it is his law that we should do 
 80. We are to be ' heavenly minded,' to
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 237 
 
 Hove our neighbor as ourselves,' to 'set 
 our affections on things above,' and, 
 * whether we eat or drink, or wfetever 
 we do, to do it unto the Lord,' with a 
 desire to glorify him. If we fail to do 
 this, we sin against him, we break his 
 law. 
 
 "And have we not all failed in this? 
 Have we not each, in thought, word, and 
 deed, trespassed against our heavenl)^ Fa- 
 ther? ' If so, we need forgiveness. 
 
 " But we have also sinned against each 
 other. Some persons have done us wrong, 
 and we have been equally unkind and un- 
 faithful toward them. Children are very 
 apt to get angry, and speak unkind words, 
 and perhaps raise their hands to strike 
 each other. They forget what the great 
 Teacher has said about loving one another, 
 and, led on by their wicked passions, they 
 break the Divine law, and, unless forgiven, 
 must suffer its dreadful penalty. 
 
 " The question, then, which we shouhl 
 ask ourselves is this: Upon what condi- 
 tion will the offended Deity forgive our 
 sins, and 'restore us to his divine favor?
 
 238 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 Our Saviour has clearly answered this 
 question : ' If je forgive men their tres- 
 passes, your heavenly Father will also for- 
 give you ; but if ye forgive not men their 
 trespasses, neither will your Father forgive 
 your trespasses.' 
 
 " Here, then, dear children, is the rule. 
 Our heavenly Father will ' forgive us our 
 sins,' as we ' forgive those who have tres- 
 passed against us.' Let us examine this 
 text a little closer, and endeavor to under- 
 stand just what it means. We slmll, per- 
 haps, understand the matter better if we 
 ask another question. It is this : How do 
 we wish to have God forgive us our sins ? 
 The answer to this question will include 
 several points. Let me enumerate them ; 
 and I will try also to" illustrate each point. 
 
 " 1. We desire to be forgiven fully. We 
 go to our heavenly Father, and pray, 
 ' Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, 
 and cleanse me from my sin ;' and, with 
 David, if we are really sincere, we con- 
 tinue to cry, 'Blot out all my iniquities. 
 Create in me a clean heart, O God ! and 
 renew a right spirit within me.'
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 239 
 
 "Thus do we desire to be forgiven. 
 We ask for a complete work. So also 
 must we fully forgive those ' who trespass 
 against us.' We must say to them, and 
 say truly, 'I forgive all. You shall stand 
 in my esteem as though you had never 
 sought to injure me, or in any way "tres- 
 passed against me." ' And this we must 
 do, not simply once or twice, but until 
 'seventy times seven.' 
 
 " A visitor in a Sunday school, at B., 
 noticed a boy and girl on one seat, who 
 were brother and sister. In a moment of 
 passion, the little boy struck his sister. 
 The girl was provoked, and raised her 
 hand to return the blow. Her teacher 
 caught her eye, and said, ^ Stop, my dear ; 
 you had much better kiss your brother 
 than strike him.' The look and the word 
 reached her heart. Her hand dropped : 
 she threw her arms around his neck, and 
 kissed him. 
 
 " The boy was moved. He could have 
 stood against a blow, but he could not 
 withstand a sisters kiss. He compared 
 his wicked act with her loving return, and
 
 240 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 the tears rolled down his cheeks. His 
 little sister took her handkerchief, and 
 wiped away his tears. This made him 
 cry the more, until, finally, he was fully 
 subdued. But why did the little girl do 
 as she did ?" 
 
 " Because she fully forgave her brother," 
 was replied. 
 
 " Yery true. If she had retained any 
 unkind feeling in her heart, though it had 
 been but a very little, she would not have 
 sealed her forgiveness with a kiss, and 
 then so lovingly wiped away his tears. 
 This is just as our heavenly Father does 
 by us. Hear what he says to penitent 
 sinners : ' I will be merciful to their un- 
 righteousness, and their sins and . their 
 iniquities will I remember no more.' 
 That is, those whom God forgives shall 
 be to him as though they had not sin- 
 ned. 
 
 " 2. We desire to be forgiven speedily. 
 Thus the psalmist prayed : ' Make haste 
 to help me, O Lord, my salvation !' 'Be 
 pleased, O Lord, to deliver me ! O Lord, 
 make haste to help me !' ' I am poor and
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 241 
 
 needy : make haste unto me, O God : thou 
 art my help and my deliverer; O Lord, 
 make no tarrying!' 'Bow down thine 
 ear to me; deliver me speedily.' 'Hide 
 not thy face from me in the day when I 
 am in trouble ; incline thine ear unto me : 
 in the day when I call, answer me 
 speedily.' 
 
 "And we must forgive even as God 
 forgives. "W"e should forgive just as soon 
 as we are sinned against ; and then seek 
 the very fii^t opportunity to tell the per- 
 son how fully we forgive him. 
 
 " Petei^ was a good little boy, about 
 twelve years old. One day, at school, 
 Jarrtes was at the head of his class, while 
 Peter stood next to him. James was a 
 wicked, selfish boy, who had never been 
 taught at home the law of kindness and 
 Christian love. When, therefore, he miss- 
 ed in his lesson, and Peter got above him, 
 and, consequently, bore off the medal, 
 which but for that one mishap would have 
 been his o\jj'n, he was very angry. He 
 said, 'it was not fair,' that 'Peter had 
 cheated,' and many other things that were
 
 242 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 both unkind and nntrue, and he declared 
 he would be revenged. 
 
 " Peter was sitting up in his little 
 chamber one Saturday afternoon, studying 
 his Sunday-school lesson, when, happen- 
 ing to cast his eyes out of the window, he 
 saw James coming down by the little 
 brook, that ran leaping and singing from 
 the hill-side at a little distance from the 
 house. 
 
 " About half way up the hill Peter had 
 made a little mill. He built his darm with 
 stone and turf; made his little gate, and 
 constructed his flume ; and then he car- 
 ried out his mill, with its beautiful wheel, 
 and saw, and nice machiner}^, which his 
 uncle had presented to him, and when it 
 was all properly adjusted it worked ad- 
 mirably. 
 
 "When James came to this mill, he stood 
 looking upon it for a few moments, and 
 then, hastily glancing around him, he 
 stepped down, and hit the wheel with his 
 foot, knocking it into many» pieces, and 
 then he ran swiftly away. 
 
 " So quickly was it all done, that Peter
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 243 
 
 had barely time to utter a single exclama- 
 tian of indignant surprise, before the boy 
 had disappeared around the corner of the 
 grove. 
 
 "Peter went out to his mill, and lo, 
 what a sight ! It was a complete wreck ! 
 At first he wanted to sit down and cry, 
 for he had taken much pleasure in run- 
 ning his mill. Then his heart began to 
 swell with anger against James for his 
 vicious act. Then the passage came to 
 his miitd, 'If ye forgive not men their 
 trespasses, neither will your heavenly 
 Father forgive you;' and the angry feel- 
 ing began to leave his lieart, and pity for 
 James, and a love for his soul to take its 
 place. 
 
 " Slowly and sadly he went back to his 
 little room, and kneeling down by his 
 bed, he prayed to God for the wicked 
 boy who had endeavored to injure him. 
 And while he asked God to forgive him 
 for his own angry feeling, he asked also 
 for grace that he might fully forgive 
 James for all he had done. 
 
 "Peter arose from his knees, with a
 
 244 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 new purpose in his heart. He went to 
 his little writing-desk, and taking out his 
 writing materials, wrote the following note : 
 
 - ' ' Dear James, — I saw you when yon 
 broke my saw-mill this afternoon. I was 
 sitting at my chamber window and could 
 observe all that you did, although you did 
 not see me. I forgive you for the wicked 
 act, and have prayed to God that he would 
 forgive you also. 
 
 "'Dear James, why did you do it? 
 What have I done to displease you ? If I 
 have been guilty of anything, I hope you 
 will forgive me. 
 
 " ' I wish, James, you would go to the 
 Sabbath school with me. I think you 
 would then learn to be kind, and to love 
 to pray to God, your heavenly Father. 
 Do not think I shall lay up any hardness 
 against you for what you have done, for I 
 shall not do so." I fully and freely forgive 
 yon, even as I hope my heavenly Father 
 will forgive me when I do wrong. 
 
 " From your still loving friend, 
 
 " ' Peter.'
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 245 
 
 " He sealed and directed this note, and 
 then gave it to his little sister to cany to 
 James. 
 
 " The kind note broke the hard heart of 
 the wicked boy, and from that time he and 
 Peter became fast friends. How true it 
 is, ' A soft answer turneth away wratli.' 
 
 "But we must forgive not only, fully 
 and speedily, but also, 
 
 " 3. Condescendingly. If God should 
 wait for the sinner to come to him, before 
 he exercised kind feeling toward the sinning 
 one, there would never be forgiveness, 
 for the sinner would never come. Hence 
 we read, 'While we were yet sinners, he 
 loved us,' and manifested that love by 
 giving his Son to die for us, and his Holy 
 Spirit to invite us to come to him. And 
 when, softened by the influence of the 
 Spirit, we turn away from our sins, and 
 ask him to forgive and save us, he does 
 not wait for us to raise ourselves to his 
 high presence, but he stooped to our in- 
 firmities. God condescends to pardon. 
 
 "So, too, we must condescend to for- 
 give. However much we may have to
 
 246 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 humble ourselves, we should not hesitate 
 a moment. Do not wait for your enemy 
 to come to you, but go to him. Tell him 
 how fully you forgive him, and ask him to 
 forgive you, for seldom does any one do 
 us an injur}^, but we do some kind of an 
 injury in return. Even if we do nothing, 
 we may answer unkindly, or our thoughts 
 may be evil. It is always safe to ask for 
 pardon. 
 
 " But there is one other thing that you 
 must always remember, and that is, 
 
 " 4. We must forgive affectionately. 
 Willie, will you turn to the eighteenth 
 chapter of Matthew, and read the last two 
 verses ?" 
 
 Willie turned, as requested, to the place, 
 and read: "'And his lord was wroth, and 
 delivered him to the tormentors till he 
 should pay all that was due unto him. So 
 likewise shall my heavenly Father do also 
 unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive 
 not every one his brother their tres- 
 passes.' " 
 
 "Yes, children, it must all \>q from the 
 heart! Nothing else will be acceptable
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 247 
 
 to God. We must ^love our enemies.'* 
 Simply to desire to do them no injury is 
 not enough ; we must love them. 
 
 "I have a story with which I will finish 
 all that I shall have time to sa}' upon this 
 subject to-day. I i-ead it lately in your 
 • Sunday-School Advocate.' 
 
 '"Pliilip Sydney had constructed a 
 beautiful model of a ship. He had 
 carved her hull with great skill. Her 
 masts were tall, tapering, and smooth. 
 Her rigging and sails, too, were fixed 
 with such nice care that even a sailor 
 could not have refused to admire the 
 boy's work. 
 
 " ' " Isn't she beautiful, Ben?" asked he 
 of a boy who joined him as lie sat on a 
 rock with his vessel at his i^Qt. 
 
 "'"Beautiful? Pooh! I don't see any 
 beauty in her," replied the boy in a spite- 
 ful tone of voice. He then stepped to the 
 spot where Philip's model was lying, and 
 planting his feet upon it, made it a com- 
 plete wreck. 
 
 " 'This spiteful act was more than Phil- 
 ip's heart could endure. He grew very
 
 248 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 angry. Leaping to his feet, he struck 
 Ben a severe blow in the face. Ben 
 stnick back. A regular flght ensued, in 
 which they bruised each other badly ; but 
 Ben, being the stronger of the two, gave 
 Philip the worst beating. Finding him- 
 self worsted, Philip ran off, saying as he 
 went, 
 
 u i u jq]^ have my revenge yet ; Pll make 
 him repent of it." 
 
 " ' In this spirit the angry boy went to 
 his grandfather, and repeated the history 
 of his griefs. That good old man, after 
 listening patiently to his story, replied in 
 a very quiet manner : 
 
 "'"Come into the house, Philip, and 
 let me examine your wounds." 
 
 " ' Philip obeyed. His head was soon 
 bound up, and then the old man said : 
 
 " ' " Your face is not much hurt, my 
 boy; but you have a wound which is 
 very serious." 
 
 " ' " What do you mean, grandfather ?" 
 asked Philip, looking in wonder. 
 
 " ' " I mean that you have a dangerous 
 wound in your heart. You have not the
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 249 
 
 spirit of Christ, for his spirit is love, meek- 
 ness, gentleness, and peace. Tours is a 
 spirit of anger, strife, and revenge. If 
 you do not get rid of it, my dear boy, it 
 will ruin you both in this world and in 
 the world to come." 
 
 " ' " But, grandfather, onght I to bear 
 such treatment from Ben, without resent- 
 ing it?" 
 
 "^"You ought to be ready to treat 
 him, Philip, as you wish your Father in 
 heaven to treat you. You know the 
 words of your Saviour : ' If ye forgive not 
 men their trespasses, neither will your 
 Father forgive your trespasses.' " 
 
 *'* Philip's grandfather said many other 
 things to the agitated boy, and then left 
 him to his own thoughts. When alone, 
 the lad reflected much on what had been 
 said to him, and on his own anger and 
 purposes-of revenge. This serious think- 
 ing brought his better feelings into activ- 
 ity, and before he slept that night, he 
 kneeled down, told all his sorrows to God, 
 asked forgiveness, and laid his head upon 
 his pillow with a quiet spirit. 
 16
 
 250 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 '' ' A few days after his battle with 
 Ben, Philip heard that a merchant in 
 the neighborhood wanted an errand-boy. 
 "Xow," thought he, "I'll have my re- 
 venose on Ben." 
 
 " ' He knew Ben wanted a place very 
 much, so he went in search of him. 
 Meeting him after a long walk, he said : 
 
 " ' " Ben, IVe g^ot something good to 
 tell you V 
 
 "'Ben was ugly, and did not believe 
 that Philip meant what he said; so hie 
 laughed sneeringly at him, and replied : 
 
 " ' " Got over the thrashing I gave you 
 the other day? Ready for more of the 
 same sort, eh V^ 
 
 "'The wicked taunt roused the evil*** 
 spirit in Philip's heart ; but he offered a 
 silent prayer and kept it under. Clothing 
 his face with a smile, he told Ben the 
 reason why he had come in search of 
 him. 
 
 "'Ben put on a look of surprise and 
 suspicion at first, but seeing that Philip 
 was in earnest, and perceiving that his 
 information was likely to be of great value
 
 OF FORGIVENESS. 251 
 
 to him, his feelings changed. A bhish of 
 shame came over his cheeks, and, holding 
 out his hand, he said : 
 
 ^""Philip, I treated you badly the 
 other day. You said you would have 
 your revenge, and you have it. You said 
 I should repent of it, and I do. Forgive 
 me, and let us be friends." 
 
 " ' When Philip told his grandfather 
 what he had done, and how Ben got the 
 place, the good old man was delighted. 
 Placing his hand on Philip's head, while 
 a most heavenl}^ smile played over his 
 venerable features, he said : 
 
 ^' ' " God bless you, my dear bo3^ You 
 have now acted in the spirit of Christ, 
 *Who, when he was reviled, reviled not 
 again ; when he suffered, he threatened 
 not.' " ' 
 
 "And now, my dear children, let us 
 always endeavor to return 'good for evil,' 
 'blessing for cursing,' and kindly deeds 
 for wanton and cruel acts. ' Be not over 
 come of evil, but overcome, evil witl 
 good.' " 
 
 When Kobert lay his head upon Lis
 
 252 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 pillow that night, it was with a resolution 
 firmly fixed, the very thought of which 
 brought glad sunshine to his young heart. 
 He resolved to see Ned Wilder, and try 
 what love could do toward making him a 
 good boy.
 
 TEMPTATION. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 "LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION, BUT 
 DELIVER US FROM EVIL." 
 
 Richard Winthrope still maintained his 
 integrity. On the Sabbath he was seated 
 in the house of God with his daugliter by 
 liis side, and no more attentive listener 
 gazed npon the impassioned speaker tlian 
 the reformed inebriate. He seemed fairly 
 to devour the words as they fell from tlie 
 lips of the preaclier, and his strength was 
 renewed for still greater struggles, and 
 more energetic efforts in his Master's 
 cause. His was no half-way change, but 
 a "new birth" indeed; "old things had 
 passed away, and all things become new/' 
 
 Every moment which the young cou- 
 vert could spare from his dayly toils, were 
 spent in efforts to gain spiritual knowl- 
 edge, or to lead othei*s to the Saviour. 
 He went out among his old associates, 
 and preached Christ to them. When
 
 254 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 they jeered, he wept; when they reviled, 
 he " reviled not again ;" and when they 
 would listen, he told them of his great 
 peace. And God blessed the efforts of 
 the earnest man, and quite a number 
 signed the pledge which he had drawn 
 Tip, heading it with his own name. 
 
 But he did not leave them here. He 
 knew full well that reformation from some 
 forms of vice, without the regeneration of 
 the heart, the real conversion of the soul 
 to God, will seldom keep the poor man 
 from relapsing into sin. Temptation will 
 conquer, and habit re-enslave him. He, 
 therefore, urged upon them the necessity 
 of religion, of faith in Christ, and depend- 
 ence upon the Holy Spirit alone for 
 success. 
 
 Some were convicted, and after days 
 of struggling were enabled to cast them- 
 selves upon the merits of Christ, and to 
 believe. They were saved. 
 
 These encouraging signs filled the hearts 
 of true Christians with joy ; and many com- 
 menced in good earnest to pray and labor 
 for a revival. The children, too, caught
 
 TEMPTATION. 255 
 
 the spirit of their sires, and formed plans 
 for doing good. 
 
 Robert soon found an opportunity to 
 tell Edward Wilder how sorry he was for 
 what he had done. At first Edward was 
 sullen, and repelled the kindness of the 
 Christian boy ; but, by degrees, his heart 
 was softened, and the tears began to flow, 
 and then the fountain of sorrow was broken 
 up, and he sobbed aloud. 
 
 Robert put his loving arms around the 
 now subdued boy, and drew him kindly 
 to a seat upon the grass, by his side. 
 Tlien he told him about Jesus, and how 
 kind and merciful he was; how he had 
 died to save sinners, and was now waiting 
 to be gracious. 
 
 Then Edward told Robert how deeply 
 the words of the man who had reproved 
 him, out in the pasture, upon the day 
 when he acted so wickedly toward little 
 CLira Winthrope, had sunk into his heart. 
 He knew then that he had been doing 
 very wrong ; and when the man spoke as 
 lie. did, and Robert so readily consented 
 to forgive him, his heart was touched.
 
 256 VOICES FKO^I THE OLD ELM. 
 
 He tried to drive away the feeling, and 
 had partly succeeded, but this new token 
 of love, upon the part of Robert, again 
 subdued him. 
 
 Much more was said by the two boys, 
 as they sat there upon the grass ; and the 
 result of the conversation was that Edward 
 promised to pray every day, to keep away 
 from his former wicked associates, and, 
 upon the next Saturda}^, to accompany 
 Robert to the meeting in the Old Elm. 
 
 Yery much astonished, and as highly 
 pleased, was Uncle Henry, and those of the 
 children who had not been informed of 
 Edward's effort ■ at reform, when they 
 SB,w him, in company with Sarah, Clara, 
 and Robert, enter the yard. Robert in- 
 troduced him to Mr. Woodman, who 
 kindly shook him by the hand, expressing 
 his pleasure at seeing him there. The 
 children also gathered round him, with 
 such happy faces, and so niany earnest 
 words of welcome, that he could not pre- 
 vent the tears springing to his e3^es ; but 
 they were tears of grateful joy. True, his 
 clothes were soiled and ragged ; but he
 
 TEMPTATION. 257 
 
 forgot all about this in the new pleasure 
 of loving and being loved in return. 
 
 Wlien Mr. Woodman bowed in prayer, 
 Edward knelt with the other children. 
 IIr»w strange it seemed, and yet how 
 pleasant! It was the first time in his life 
 that any one had ever seen him kneeling 
 in prayer, except Robert ; and when Uncle 
 Henr}^ prayed that the heart of the peni- 
 tent boy might be cleansed, and his soul 
 converted, how earnestly did he lift his 
 own desires to God that it might be even so. 
 
 " Children," said Henry, when they 
 were again seated, " God works by means. 
 He has chosen men as one class of instru- 
 ments with which to bring about his wise* 
 purposes. If he discovers in us the spirit 
 of obedience, and finds us ready to work, 
 he will not leave ns in idk-ness ; he will 
 give us work to do. Little Clara had this 
 spirit, and God made her the instrument 
 of her father's conversion. Robert opened 
 his heart to this influence, and it led him 
 to go to Edward ; and I trust he will from 
 this time be a reformed and Christian boy. 
 Let us never forget that if we are willing
 
 258 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 to labor, work will be given us to do. Let 
 us now turn to our lesson for the day. 
 Robert, will you read the text ?" 
 
 Eobert opened his Bible, and read : 
 
 " ' Lead its not into tem])tation^ hut de- 
 liver us from eviV " 
 
 " Children, does God ever lead us into 
 temptation V' asked Mr. Woodman. 
 
 " I think not," answered Kathan. 
 
 "What reason have jou for thinking 
 that, Robert ?" 
 
 " The Bible says so, or something very 
 nearly like it," answered the boy. 
 
 " Please turn to it," replied Henry. 
 
 Robert turned to the Epistle of James 
 i, 13, and read : 
 
 •' ' Let no man say when he is tempted, 
 I am tempted of God : for God cannot be 
 tempted with evil, neither tempteth he 
 any man.' " 
 
 " Yery well, Robert. I think you have 
 .proved your point. We must, then, look 
 for a different meaning in the words, 
 ' Lead us not into temptation,' from what 
 the translators have given in our English 
 Bible. In the Scriptures God is fre-
 
 TEMPTATION. 269 
 
 quentlj spoken of as doing a thing, when 
 he ^\mi^\y permits it to be done. Thus it 
 is said, God ' hardened Pharaoh's heart,' 
 when we are doubtless to understand that 
 he permitted Pharaoh to liarden his own 
 heart. So, too, here we are to understand 
 tlie w^ords, * Lead us not,' as meaning, per- 
 mit us not to be led ; and the remaining 
 words, ' deliver us from evil,' favor this 
 interpretation of the text. 
 
 " We are surrounded by temptations, 
 and are in constant danger of falling into 
 them, or, which signifies the same, of being 
 led awa_y captive by them. Hence we 
 are taught to pray to our heavenly Father 
 to deliver us ; for he alone can do this. 
 The strongest men will fall without liis 
 aid ; and the weakest may stand firm 
 while trusting in Divine grace. 
 
 " I want to tell you, in the first place, 
 something about the sources of tempta- 
 tion. Tliere are three sources from which 
 all our temptations proceed, namely, Sa- 
 tan, the world, and the flesh. 
 
 " Satan was the first tempter. He en- 
 tered into the serpent, and, through him,
 
 260 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 tempted Eve to pluck the forbidden fruit. 
 And still he is in the earth, walking ' to 
 and fro, seeking whom he may ' lead into 
 sin. He would deceive, if it were possi- 
 ble, the very elect; and to accomplish 
 this, the apostle says, he ' is transformed 
 into an angel of light.' He will appear to 
 man as very good, deceiving him with 
 fair speeches and false promises; just as 
 wicked persons in these days often deceive 
 the good. We must ' resist the devil, and 
 he will flee from us.' 
 
 "The next source of temptation is tlie 
 vjorld. While we are in life we are sur- 
 rounded by worldly solicitations to sin. 
 Men are tempted to seek riches by unlaw- 
 ful means, forgetful that God has said, 
 ' He that maketh haste to be rich shall not 
 be innocent.' Tliey seek also for worldly 
 honor. To be called Rabbi of men, is es- 
 teemed as greater honor than to be reck- 
 oned a child of God. Pleasure, too, cliarms 
 them from the paths of virtue ; and they 
 follow her fair, deceiving form down the 
 flowery descent until, too oft, they are lost 
 in the darkness of the vale below.
 
 TEMPTATION. 261 
 
 " Yes, dear children, this world is full 
 of temptations, and we cannot live long in 
 it without feeling as did the poet when 
 he sung, 
 
 ' We should suspect some danger nigb, 
 When we possess delight.' 
 
 " Let us, therefore, ' Be not conformed 
 to this world ; but be transformed by the 
 renewing of our minds, that we may prove 
 what is that good, and acceptable, and 
 perfect will of God.' 
 
 " Another source of temptation is the 
 flesh. By this we mean the lusts or pas- 
 sions of our sinful natures for unlawful 
 gratification. Gluttony, drunkenness, and 
 whatever else that arises from our de- 
 praved passions, may be considered as 
 among the sins of the flesh. The tempta- 
 tions to these originate in ourselves. We 
 cannot be tempted to eat when we are 
 sick, because we lack the appetite. So, too, 
 the passion or appetite must exist in us, or 
 we shall not feel the force of temptation : 
 in other words, we cannot be tempted. 
 
 It is important, also, that we understand
 
 262 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 what is the usual course of temptation. If, 
 dear children, we look carefully into our 
 own minds, and consider why we do things 
 that we know are wrong, we shall discover 
 a gradual process in the progress of the 
 soul toward evil. Let me suppose a case 
 as an illustration. 
 
 " Little Harry Hapgood was sitting on 
 his father's doorstep one bright, sunny 
 morning in September. Looking over 
 into the garden he saw a pear-tree filled 
 with fruit; but they were 'late pears,' and 
 consequently were now hard and bitter. 
 
 " ' I wish I had some ripe pears,' said 
 Harry to himself. And just then he 
 thought of the dish of beautiful ripe 'Bart- 
 letts ' which he saw his mother put in the 
 parlor cupboard the day before. 
 
 " ' I wish I had one of them^' again 
 thought the boy. 
 
 '' ' But they are not yours, and you 
 ought not to wish for them,' answered 
 conscience. 
 
 "Harry sat a few moments, thinking of 
 the rich, mellow fruit, until his imagina- 
 tion brought it right before him.
 
 TEMPTATION. 263 
 
 "^How good they did look!' again 
 thought Harry ; and he smacked his lips 
 as though he were really tasting a ripe, 
 juicy pear. 
 
 '"Take care!' said conscience; 'you 
 must not covet what is not yours.' 
 
 " ' I wonder if mother would know it, if 
 I should take just one,' continued appe- 
 tite, without heeding conscience in the 
 least; 'it would be so good! I declare I 
 don't believe she would! I must have 
 one.' 
 
 "'What, would you steal?' asked his 
 conscience in a voice so quick and loud, 
 that the boy fairly started. 
 
 "'I don't believe it would be stealing,' 
 again pleaded appetite. 'Isn't she your 
 mother, I should like to know V 
 
 " ' Certainly ; but she never gave you 
 liberty to take those pears, and you know 
 it, Harry Hapgood. If you do so, without 
 her consent, I will call you a thief,' re- 
 monstrated conscience. 
 
 " ' Well, I don't care ; I will have one 
 of those pears any way ! I wonder what 
 great harm there can be in just taking a
 
 264 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 pear out of a dish when there are lots left. 
 And then, I want one.' 
 
 "And so Harry crept cautiously into 
 the parlor, having first made sure that his 
 mother was busy away out in the kitchen, 
 and he opened the closet, and there stood 
 the dish of pears right before him ! How 
 nice they looked ! He hastily took one 
 from the dish, and hid it in his pocket, 
 glancing timidly over his shoulder at the 
 door. 
 
 " ' Thief P cried conscience again, so 
 distinctly that poor Harry trembled, and 
 ran out of the room. 
 
 "Now let us trace the process by which 
 little Harry Hapgood was made a thief. 
 
 " First. He thought he should like some 
 of those nice pears which his mother had 
 set away for another purpose. This thought 
 he kept in his mind, when he ought to 
 have driven it away at once. Had he 
 done this, it would not have injured him 
 at all. But the thought waked up imag- 
 hiation, and imagination brought the fruit 
 right before him, so that he could see it 
 as plainly as you can see your homes and-
 
 TEMPTATION. 266 
 
 your parents simply by thinkini^ about 
 them. Can you not see how your home 
 looks, just as well as though you were 
 right there ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the chil- 
 dren. 
 
 " Well ; this is what we call imagina- 
 tion. You certainly do not see these 
 things with your eyes, but your mind, 
 or your imagination rather, pictures 
 them. 
 
 "This, then, was the second step in 
 Harry's evil progress. But he did not stop 
 here. The thought which he continued 
 to keep in his mind crept softly down, and 
 opened the door of the heart, and imme- 
 diately Harry felt a strong desire spring- 
 ing up. He looked upon the beautiful 
 pears which imagination pictured to his 
 mind with great delight. This was the 
 third step. Harry took delight in viewing 
 the forbidden object. 
 
 *' Then the thought went up to the will, 
 and having now the heart to second its 
 efforts, it soon gained the will's consent 
 to the act, and thus Harry became a thief.
 
 266 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 1. He had an evil thought. 2. He .et his 
 imagination dwell upon the object. 3. He 
 took delight in viewing it. And, 4. The 
 will consented to perform it. 
 
 " How important, therefore, that we 
 drive away all sinful thoughts ! We should 
 not parley with them a single moment, 
 but immediately and resolutely cry, 
 'Away, away!' 
 
 " But sometimes actual sight takes the 
 place of imagination. Such was the case 
 with Achan, mentioned in the seventh 
 chapter of Joshua. When Jericho was 
 taken by Joshua and his men, they were 
 commanded by God either to destroy 
 whatever they found in the city, or to de- 
 vote it to the Lord, that is, put it into the 
 treasury of the Lord's house. But Achan 
 disobeyed this commandment of the Lord, 
 and stole 'a Babylonish garment, and two 
 hundred shekels of silver, and a wedge of 
 gold,' and hid them in his tent for his own 
 private use. 
 
 '' This act displeased God, and by his 
 providence he pointed out the theft to the 
 people, and the thief was stoned. But
 
 TEMPTATION. 267 
 
 how came Achan to take these things? 
 Let his own words answer. 
 
 " ' When I saw among the spoils a 
 goodly Babylonish garment, and two hun- 
 dred shekels of silver, and a wedge of 
 gold of fifty shekels weight, then I coveted 
 them and took them ; and behold, they 
 are hid in the earth in the midst of my 
 tent, and the silver under it.' 
 
 " Mark the process in this case. * When 
 1 saw,'' then 'I coveted,^ and ''took^ and 
 *'hid? The temptation entered hy the eye. 
 Here it should have been immediately 
 resisted. But instead of thus resisting, 
 Achan continued to look; and soon the 
 temptation entered his heart. Then he 
 coveted. Then he said, 'I must have these 
 things,' and his will consented. And 
 being tlrus prepared for action, he says, ' I 
 took^ But though he had obtained the 
 prize, he was not at rest. He knew he 
 had done wrong, and he feared that he 
 should be detected in his wicked act. 
 Then he said to himself, *I will hide these 
 things, so that none can find them.' He 
 forgot that God saw him, for it is the ten-
 
 268 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 denc}^ of sin, dear children, to make us 
 forget God. 
 
 '' We must not permit ourselves either 
 to think about or to look upon anything 
 that will be liable to tempt us. ' Go not 
 in the way of evil. Avoid it ; pass not by 
 it ; turn from it, and pass away.' 
 
 "This passage brings to my mind a 
 beautiful incident, in which it was em- 
 ployed by a noble little fellow, to resist 
 the temptations to evil, presented by his 
 wicked companions. I will relate it. 
 
 " '" Come, what shall we do this after- 
 noon, John ?" said two boys, stopping be- 
 fore the front yard of a neighbor's house, 
 where one of their school-mates was stand- 
 ing. It was Wednesday afternoon. To 
 go a fishing, or raspberrying, or up to the 
 mills, or over to Back Cove, they could 
 decide which of all these would be, upon 
 the whole, the pleasantest. At last it was 
 agreed to go over to Back Cove, which 
 was a strip of land running out into the 
 sea, where there were trees and rocks, and 
 a few miserable dwellings. 
 
 " ' Off the boys started with no clear
 
 TEMPTATION. 269 
 
 notions of what they meant to do, only it 
 was Wednesday afternoon, and they meant 
 to make the most of it. After reachinir 
 the cove, they amused themselves skip- 
 ping stones on the water, carving their 
 names on the trees, and looking about 
 here and there, until they came in sight 
 of the bowling-alley, a noted gambling- 
 house, where a great deal of wickedness 
 was carried on. There were several car- 
 riages here, and men and boys around, 
 smoking and lounging, while the alley 
 was full of customers. 
 
 "'"Let's go into the alley," cried one 
 of the boys ; " it^s real fun, Ned Careless 
 says, to see them roll." 
 
 "'"Good," cried another. 
 
 "'"I don't know as father would like 
 to have me go, but I suppose he never 
 need know it ; I'll go at any rate," answer- 
 ed a third. 
 
 " ' " Spoken like a man, Dick. Come, 
 John ; come, Frank." 
 
 "'"No," answered John, "I'm not 
 going ; I'll have nothing to do with any 
 such placesl"
 
 270 VOICES FPvOM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 "^"That's great," cried the boy who 
 first proposed going ; " why, you are not 
 so easily hurt as all that comes to, are 
 you ! That's all nonsense. Come, boys ; 
 come, John," and the boys started, say- 
 ing, "It can't do any harm only to look 
 on." 
 
 " ' John stopped. The others looked 
 behind, and saw he was not following. 
 
 •■' ' " Come," they shouted. " Don't be 
 womanish." 
 
 " ' " Can't," shouted John back again ; 
 " can't break orders." 
 
 " ' " What special orders have you got?" 
 they asked, coming back to where John 
 w^as standing. 
 
 " ' " Guess aunty has told him to stay 
 ' to home,' " said one mockingly. The 
 boys laughed. 
 
 u c u ^^1]^ jQu iiiay laugh as much as 
 you please, boys, but I have got orders 
 not to go there ; orders that I dare not 
 disobey." 
 
 " ' " It's all nonsense,'^ said the boys. 
 " You need not try to make us believe 
 that anybody has been giving you orders
 
 TEMPTATION. 271 
 
 not to go to the alley. Come, show 'em 
 to us, if you can ; show us your orders." 
 
 " ' John took a wallet from his pocket, 
 which he opened, and pulled out a neatly 
 folded paper.' 
 
 " ' " Here it is ;" and he unfolded the 
 paper and handed it to Frank. The boy 
 took the paper and read aloud : 
 
 "'"Enter not into the path of the 
 wicked, and go not in the way of evil 
 men ; avoid it ; pass not by it ; turn from 
 it, and pass away." 
 
 " ' " Why, it's nothing but Scripture," 
 Frank cried. 
 
 " ' "Yes," said John, " it is nothing more 
 or less than the word of God; it is his 
 order. This was almost the first verse I 
 ever learned, and I do not know how 
 many times my mother used to repeat it 
 to me before she died. And when I have 
 a pen in my hand, and am going to write 
 without thinking, this verse always comes 
 uppermost. So I always keep it with me, 
 and I've always minded it; I minded it 
 when I was a very little boy, and I mean 
 to now I am older. And so, boys, when
 
 272 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 anybody asks me to go to bad or doubtful 
 places, as I suspect this to be, I've got an 
 answer for them — my orders forbid it. 
 ' Go not in the way of evil men ; avoid it ; 
 pass not by it ; turn from it.' There's no 
 mistake, you see ; so if you go to the 
 alley, I go home." ' 
 
 " Don't you think that John's motto was 
 a good one, children ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," they all answered. 
 
 " I hope, then, you will make it your 
 own. Never be ashamed to do right. 
 
 ''There are four things, children, in 
 temptation, which we shall do well to 
 consider. The first is deception. Tempt- 
 ation always commences by deceiving. 
 The enemy endeavoi's to blind us to the 
 real nature and sad i-esults of the sin 
 which he presents. He says, ']S"obody 
 will know it;' 'it won't do you any harm ;' 
 ' it isn't very bad ;' and all this is to de- 
 ceive us, and lead us to take the first step. 
 
 "Then comes infection. By looking 
 at sin we become sinful. If we associate 
 with evil companions we shall soon begin 
 to be like them. 'Evil communications
 
 TEMPTATION. 273 
 
 corrupt good manners,' the Bible says ; 
 and tliis is true. If you choose to go with 
 the sinful and vile, you will soon be ready 
 for the third step, which is seduction. 
 And by this I mean being enticed or se- 
 duced from what we know to be right, to 
 do what we know to be wrong. Then, 
 sooner or later, the poor victim will take 
 the fourth step, which is perdition, or 
 ultimate ruin. 
 
 " Sin, my young friends, as surely leads 
 to ruin as poison leads to death. The 
 only safety is in turning away from it. 
 'If sinners entice thee, consent thou not.' 
 Watch carefully the beginnings of evil. 
 Don't stop to sjoealc with the tempter, but 
 say with all your might, *Get thee be- 
 hind me!' 
 
 "I have spoken of the nature and the 
 various sources of temptation, and our 
 prayer should ever be, 'Lead us not into 
 temptation ;' or, as you must understand 
 the words, permit us not to he led into sin. 
 God alone can save us from the power of 
 evil influences to which we are constantly 
 exposed. Let us trust in him, and yield
 
 274 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 ourselves to be led by his Spirit into all 
 truth. 
 
 "But we are not only to pray to be 
 kept from evil, but also to be delivered, 
 when we are actually overtaken. And 
 we need to offer this petition every day, 
 just as really as that other, 'Give us our 
 dayly bread ;' for, alas ! we have all been 
 overtaken of evil, and need deliverance. 
 Passion has tarnished and polluted our 
 souls. Evil habits are holding us in slav- 
 ery. Sin has wounded our hearts, and 
 left them torn and bleeding. Too often 
 are we the servants of Satan. We need 
 deliverance. 
 
 "We should always do all that we pos- 
 sibly can for ourselves, and then trust the 
 result with the Lord. He can deliver us, 
 and he will do so. 
 
 " He will deliver us from sin. ' I, even 
 I, am he that blotteth out thy transgres- 
 sions.' 'Let the wicked forsake his way 
 and the unrighteous man his thoughts, 
 and let him return unto the Lord, and he 
 will have mercy upon him ; and to our 
 God, for he will abundantly pardon.' Let
 
 TEMPTATION. 276 
 
 US never forget that God ' forgiveth iniq- 
 uity, transgression, and sin.' 
 
 "God alone can deliver us from the 
 evils of this life. Think of Daniel in the 
 den with the hungry lions. See how they 
 rush upon liim with open jaws and terrific 
 roar. Will they • not certainly devour 
 him ? Look again. See the bright-robed 
 form approach. He enters even through 
 the sealed door of the den. The lions feel 
 his power ; and, as he lays his hand upon 
 their shaggy heads, the fierce gleam of 
 rage goes out in their eyes, and harmless 
 they lie at the old prophet's feet. 
 
 "See, too, the three worthies in the 
 heated furnace. How the flames hiss 
 out with their fiery tongues, slaying with 
 a breath the men who dare to approach 
 near enough to cast the bound captives 
 into the midst of their ragings. How 
 soon the poor, bound men will die ! But, 
 no ! See ! they walk in the midst of the 
 flames ! And one, like unto the Son of 
 man, is witli them. God has delivered 
 them. 
 
 " Yes, children, it is always safe to trust
 
 276 VOICES FROM THE OLD ELM. 
 
 in God. He may not always save our 
 bodies as he did Daniel and the Hebrew 
 children, but he will save our souls. 
 These bodies must die some time. God 
 w^ill choose the best time and the best 
 way. Let us leave it all to him. 
 
 " I love you, children, very much. God 
 has kindly permitted us to meet here from 
 week to week, until we have conversed 
 upon all the principal parts of this beau- 
 tiful prayer. I want you to remember 
 what I have said to you ; and I hope you 
 will dayly pray to your ' Father in heaven,' 
 to grant you all needed grace, that you 
 may be able to walk in the way of truth 
 all the days of your life. If we lack wis- 
 dom, we should remember that God has 
 said, ' If any of you lack wisdom, let him 
 ask of God, who giveth to all men liber- 
 ally, and upbraideth not ; and it shall be 
 given him;' for truly 'Wisdom is the 
 principal thing ; therefore get wisdom : 
 and with all your gettings, get under- 
 standing.' " 
 
 Thus ended the meetings in the Old 
 Elm. Shortly afterward Mr. Woodman
 
 TEMPTATION. 277 
 
 entered on the duties of the active min- 
 istry. But he had made his mark on the 
 children, who never forgot his words of 
 wisdom and of love. 
 
 t^^y/^ 
 
 THE END.
 
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