oie

chetLIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA

 

PRESENTED BY

Thomas Jefferson Memorial

Unitarian ChurchMie GA AND (He Geory
BEYOND. 1hTHE GAGE

AND

Pie GLORY BEYOND Ee

A Gale of ihe Franco-Drussian Whar.

BY 7 Oey X:

** Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for them who
shall be heirs of salvation?” —Hedbrews i. 14.

LONDON :

HODDER AND STOUGHTON,
27, PATERNOSTER ROW.

MDCCCLXXI,a t Acs
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{
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t S>y Fy & 4 ;
Seat La? = Rt f ¥
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Watson & Hazell, Printers, London and Aylesbury.Riis

 

Eoin Ee AC

N sending this little book to float down the tide

of public opinion, the writer solicits the gene-
rous indulgence of its readers. The little narrative
tells its own tale: the dying Frenchman and his
wife and boy, and the good Protestant clergyman,
enter with great fulness on many of the promises
and hopes set forth in the “Gates Ajar,” whilst they
do not enter into all or many of the perhaps over
strained views set forth in some pages of that little
work. Yet, on the other hand, they have a much
brighter conception and a much more vivid reali-
sation of many passages and promises in Scripture
than the aujhor of the “Antidote to the Gates

Ajar” admits as advisable. Without, however,V1 Preface.

 

seeking any controversy, or essaying any argument
on the merits of the two small volumes, I leave
the simple tale I have narrated to do its own
work, knowing that Paul may plant, and Apollos

water, but God only can give the increase.te te

foe GATE AND THE GLORY
BEYOND. ie:

i M OTHER! mother!” said a fine boy, rush-

ing into a large house, or chateau, in the
environs of Paris, “I will not go to church any
more, and I won’t believe what that stupid old
Man Says any more either. I don’t believe a word
of what he said on Sunday, and I shall tell him so :
and I have a great mind to burn that book he gave
me on my birthday! -that I have!”

“Well,” said his mother, looking up inquiringly,
“what is the matter, Frederick? If you are not
sure that Monsieur Rebot preached the truth, I
am very sure of ¢#zs—that my little son is in a

IThe Gate and the

NO

 

passion, which is very wrong. But what is. all this
about?” she added more tenderly; for when she
gazed on the dark blue eyes and wavy Saxon hair
of her boy, and saw his fine face lit up with emotion,
and his cheeks flushed with unwonted excitement,
she laid her work down, and drew him towards
her,

‘What is it about, mamma? why, have you not
heard about dear papa? Why, they have made ©
him become a soldier, and fight against those dread-
ful Prussians and Germans that have nearly starved
us for these months past.”

‘Tt is as I feared, then,” said the lady with a low
sigh ; “God help us and preserve Aim /” she added.
‘ But what has this to do with your being angry with
poor Monsieur Rebot, the good Protestant clergy-
inan, who works so hard and has so little pay, and
has been so good to you ever since he knew you?”

“ A great deal,” said Frederick, proudly. “I re-
member what he said on Sunday, and he shouldn’t

tell stories. Hesaid, ‘The very hairs of your headGlory Beyond 11. 3

 

 

 

are all numbered,’ and that we were of more worth
than many sparrows, and a lot more I cannot re-
member. Now I am sure papa is good, and God
loves him, and he is worth more than all the spar-
rows in Paris and Versailles put together ; and yet
God has let those naughty men take my good papa
to be shot at, and perhaps he will be killed, like
poor Uncle James and Cousin John: and I will
burn the book, ‘this very minute, that Monsieur
Rebot gave me, for I do not want to keep anything
belonging to him.”

Before I go further on with my little tale, I must
give a few particulars concerning the principal
actors in the scene. The lady was the wife of a
noble, good, and generous man, who had, spite of
her entreaties, stayed in ill-fated Paris till there
was no opportunity for escape. Of English extrac-
tion on both sides, he had been so completely
naturalised to France that he had all his dearest
interests wrapt up in that country, till his property

was hopelessly at stake in it; and having married4 The Gate and the

 

a young and beautiful lady, similarly circumstanced
to himself in birth and religion, he had decided to
run the gauntlet, and stay the siege out—trusting
that things might turn out more favourably than
they at one time promised; his wife hoping that
the position he held might secure him immunity
from positive fighting.

However, the gates had been closed but a short
time before she found how vain had been her
hopes on this head. That morning which com-
mences our tale, had brought a summons to her
beloved; but he went forth to head-quarters still

imagining that he should not be obliged to join

 

the troops in action. But Madame C ’s little
son heard the news first, and as we have seen,
brought the intelligence to the sorrowing wife and
mother. She would long ago have fled with her
husband and boy, regardless of all else but her
husband’s safety ; but she found he was so entirely

averse to the idea, that she gave up pleading, and

comforted herself with the hope that her husbandpees ee oN eae ae ee eT ——

Glory Beyond It. 5

 

would not be called upon to fight. He would
gladly have fought, for his country’s weal, but the
thought of his young wife’s agony made him keep
in the back-ground whilst he could ; nevertheless,
when the summons arrived, that he was to buckle
on a sword, it is almost to be questioned whether
he did not experience a sense of relief. _ Be this
as it may, he realised no danger. ‘The little boy,
who is presented to our readers in the first page, 1s
the only son and child of Monsieur and Madame
C
only children are ; and with a head and judgment

fitted for older shoulders.

 

, very young, but very precious, as most

And now, with this short prelude, let us
proceed.

Madame C

 

soon perceived her husband
coming to meet her, but as he advanced he read
in her eyes that she knew all.

© Never fear, dear one,” said he; ““l amin’ the

 

path of duty, and if :

“Qh, do not finish that sentence,” almost6 The Gate and the

 

shrieked his wife ; “I know what you are going to
say, and I cannot bear it.”

“Hush! hush! my dearest, where is your faith,
where is your trust? I am in the path of duty, I
cannot regret the path I have chosen.”

“But I cannot, cannot bear it,” said the lady ;

“you know I have lost two dear ones already in

99

 

those fearful sorties, and now

“Trust in God, dear one, and all will be well!
You know,” said he cheerfully, “you have often
talked with me about those beautiful ministering
spirits, which are sent forth by God to do His
holy will and work in His own way.”

“Ah!” added she, smiling through her.tears, “ J
do not seem as if I could trust you to anybody or
anything ; but,” she added, “I will try and trust
God

At this moment the young hero of our first page
rushed in, tossing up his cap in the air and (for-
getting all about the clergyman, and the sparrows,

and everything else his head had been filled with)Glory Beyond It. Gi

 

he. called out, ‘‘ Three cheers, mamma ! oh, it’s so
glorious! They have routed the old Prussians, and
taken ever so many prisoners, and routed (that’s
the word they told me) all the Germans that were
going to rout us; but they’re disappointed, that they

12

are!” said the boy, throwing up his cap again into

the air, and humming a military tune he had just
heard.

= am glad to see. you have recovered . your
temper and spirits,” replied his mother; ‘‘I hope
you will be civil to Dr. Rebot when he comes. You
have not burned the book yet?” said she, looking
archly at him; ‘have you?”

‘No. mamma: E thought better of it, I didnt
think it would do Dr. Rebot any harm, and it
wouldn’t do me any good, so I thought better of it.
But, hark! the drum is beating again to arms.”

At this moment Monsieur C—— stooped and
kissed his child, and fondly embraced his wife,
and then rushed out to take his appointed place

with his comrades.8 The Gate and the

We pass over a few weeks, and once more pre-
sent the little group we have before introduced to
the reader,

‘Mamma, mamma,” said Frederick, rushing in,
“come and see Sultan with papa mounted on him,
ready to join the regiment. John says he is the
handsomest horse in all the ranks; but, mamma, I
hope he won’t be shot, because I could not bear to
lose him, and papa said I was to ride him when I
grow a big boy.”

“God spare your father!” said Madame C

 

“I have dreaded the onset they are going to make
to-day, more than any that vour father has been in
yet.

“ But, mamma, you always say something about
ministering spirits taking care of us; now why don’t
you get them to take care of papa to-day ?”

“My dear boy,” replied his mother, “I do firmly
believe the words of Holy Writ, and I believe our
every step is watched over and directed ; but whe-

ther God will see fit to let those ministering spiritsGlory Beyond It. iG

 

deliver your. dear father from all danger, or whe-
ther he will only permit them to attend and com-

fort him zz that danger, I cannot tell; one thing I

 

am certain of—whatever bitterness I may have to
bear, the Gate 1s open wide to receive him should
he fall this day. But you are too young, Frederick,
to understand what I have said to you, only it
comforts me to talk to some one,” said she, with a
heavy sigh.

‘¢ Mamma,” said Frederick, very gravely, “John
says I am a great deal too knowing for my years,
and I shall be sure not to live to grow up; please,
mamma, am I old enough to die zow >”

“Ves,” said she; ‘your cousin that died was
three years younger, and he is gone: none are too
young.”

“*T am sorry, mamma, I am old enough to die,
because then if poor papa was shot you would be
left quite alone. But I thought I was, for I went
the other day and measured some of the little

graves in the burying ground near Rue St. H——,IO The Gate and the

 

and I found some graves shorter than me, only I
thought they might be older, only not grown so
fast. There! mamma ; did you hear ?” said the boy
(for a moment looking almost frightened) ; “did you

hear that terrible noise?”

It was the bursting of a shell in the Rue St. J——,
close to the house where they were, and pieces of
wood and iron were carried past the windows with
fearful violence.

Madame €——. drew back. “God help usd;
said she; “your poor father will soon be in the
thickest of the fight, that is only a thousandth
part of the danger he will be in. I must go,” she
added, ‘‘and see the attack in the distance. Are
you afraid, Frederick, to come?”

“Oh no, mamma; I would far rather go than

siay eves? And Madame €

 

, snatching up
a cloak and hood, with which she enveloped her-
self, sallied forth to reach a look-out, where many
other anxious ones had gathered to see the onset.

Madame C

 

had provided herself with a power-Glory, Beyond It. rT

 

ful eye-glass, with which she hoped to be able to
distinguish her husband’s person: and it was not
long before the noble Sultan, mounted by Monsieur
c

eager gaze her eyes were rivetted on the scene be-

 

, came within the focus of her sight ; and with

fore her. It was one of the most tremendous
sorties that had taken place since the siege com-
menced : the loss on both sides was fearful ; many
a brave soldier fell to rise no more, many a brave
charger died by his master’s side. Madame C——
looked on with feelings more easily imagined than
described: she loved her husband with an absorb-
ing affection, they were bound to each other for
heaven as well as for earth ; but, oh! the anguish,
the untold bitterness of those moments when death
seemed battling hand to hand with life, on that
gory field.

“‘ He has fallen!” she shrieked rather than cried
to her son: “Sultan is shot under him, and I saw
them both fall. Oh, God! be merciful: oh, my

child !” and then snatching up the glass which hadV2 The Gate and the

 

dropped from her nerveless grasp, she exclaimed,
‘he may yet rise, and only be wounded.” For
‘some moments poor Frederick watched her in
speechless grief. He dared not ask a question ; and
her eye ranged in vain amongst the scattered ranks
to recognise her lost one. ‘‘ God be praised ! he
lives! he lives!” she cried; ‘‘ he has mounted an-
other horse, and is cutting his way through the
enemy.”

Poor Frederick, however, could not resist a little
cry of “Oh, mamma, I am so glad. But shall I
never ride Sultan ? and is he quite dead?”

But Madame C

her child. Her whole soul was wrapped up in the

neither heard nor heeded

 

safety of her loved one. He was saved; he was
now at the head of one of the battalions returning
to the city gates, hotly pursued; but considerably
in advance of the foe. And now without other aid
the naked. eye could discern the combatants, and
recognise the prominent figures; and Frederick

clapped his hands, and said—Glory Beyond It. 13

 

‘“ Mamma, ministering spirits have taken care of
papa, and he will come home once more. Mamma,
mamma,” he cried, “see, see, they are just upon
him, but he is a/most through the gate! almost, but

not quite.”

 

As Monsieur C ’s gallant charger had headed
all pursuers, he stumbled against a bayonet fallen
from the hands of one of the slain. He tried to
recover himself; but as he rose a hostile hand
struck at the noble animal, dashed a bayonet into

his flank, which, with with a death-throe, fell back-

 

wards, throwing off Monsieur C amongst the

stain and the dying. A wild shriek from Madame
©

seen the catastrophe. Madame C

and Frederick announced that they had

 

 

saw no
more; and Frederick, who saw her swoon, called
Out,—

“Mamma, do not die, do not die, and leave
poor Frederick all alone !” ;
Pass we on a few hours, and let us enter a dark-

ened room in the RueSt. J-——. Tread softly, forIA The Gate and the

 

life is hanging on so feeble a thread that it may
snap at any moment. A feeble groan directs us to
where the sufferer lies; and we perceive Monsieur

C

of strength, and youth, and happiness. Alas! he

 

, who a few hours before was in all the pride

is only one of thousands in like circumstances.
Madame C

tudes whose loved ones are stricken down by the

is only one of the surging multi-

 

besom of destruction, War To return for afew
moments to the scene where Monsieur’s horse fell.
Its master was severely wounded in the back, and
incapable of moving. Some of his brave men,
seeing their captain’s charger, fought round him
nobly ; put to flight those who were about to cap-
ture him ; and, being close to the gates, bore him
as tenderly as they could on their crossed bayonets
to an ambulance, from whence he was speedily
carried home by those who knew and recognised
him. ‘True, one third of his elegant residence had
been shattered to pieces by two of the shells that

had fallen during the scene of carnage on thatGlory Beyond It. 15

 

direful day; but part of the house was left un-
injured, and to one of these apartments he was
carefully conveyed, though at one time life was

thought to be extinct. Madame C

 

had speedily
recovered from her swoon ; and ascertaining that
her husband was still alive, rushed to lend any aid
possible to the sufferer.

‘“‘Ts he alive? is there hope?” said she eagerly,
as the doctor came forward with a grave counten-
ance, from the bed-side of his patient. He was
used to so many such scenes every hour, that they
had become almost habitual to his eyes the last
two months or more.

With a profound bow, which no Englishman
need endeavour to imitate (because it is unattain-
able by any but a Frenchman), he stroked his
pointed moustache, tapped his gold-headed cane,
and then said in broken English, ‘‘ Madame must
not distress herself too much, it would fret her, and
injure her constitution ; it would make de heart go

too fast, but she must wait a little minute before16 The Gate and the

athe

he could say anything for reality. De pulse was
very faint, no much life; he was wounded very
much; but tousands were de same, and worse, for
all de body was cut up, and Monsieur was only
wounded in de back, and de head.”

“Tell, tell me, oh, tell me!” said the agonised
wife ; ‘will he live?”

“A little minute, or a little time, I should say,”
said the doctor ; “but dere is little hope !”

The young wife approached the bedside, drew
the curtains back, and gazed on the countenance
of him whom she believed would never more look
upon her. Frederick had crept up beside his
mother, catching hold of her train, and seeking if
possible to gain one glimpse of the father he loved
so well. After remaining in silence for a short
time, and almost doubting whether the spirit had
not already taken its everlasting flight, a slight
movement was perceived : the patient’s eyes slowly
opened, and catching sight of the watcher by the

bedside, fixed on her a look of unutterable ten-Glory Beyond It 17

 

 

 

 

derness. A cry of joy passed the lips of Madame
Cc

sufferer’s face, she heard a faint Whisper of “ My

3; and, bending down her head close to the

 

poor Therese! my poor boy!” Tenderly she wiped
the drops of perspiration which bedewed his fine
_ brow, and pushed aside the dark curls that clustered
round his forehead.

“Oh, it is so hard, so bitter!” she murmured ;
“has my God left me?”

A shadow flitted over his countenance 7 then 4
smile lighted it up as radiantly as the most glorious
sunset illumines mountain top and forest glen, and
then sparkling on the dancing wave gives life to all
around. Unable fora moment to speak, he faintly
beckoned Madame C
then whispered with great difficulty—

“ Dearest, the Gate is so wide open, I seem to

see the Glory beyond it. Oh! I long to enter sok

 

to come still closer, and

was not suffered to die from home, the ministering
spirits have been sent forth to minister as it is pro-
mised to the heirs of salvation. I know in Whom I

218 The Gate and the

 

have believed.” And here his voice failed utterly ;
and, closing his eyes, all thought that the last ray
of life’s lamp had flickered in its socket, and gone
out for ever on earth. Poor Frederick had caught
some of the words ; and, unable to restrain his grief
any longer, called out—

“Mamma, let me go with him through the
bright Gate; lef me go, let me go, papa shall not
travel alone.”

This was too much for the poor wife and mother;
and, sinking down into a chair by the bedside,
she buried her face in her hands, and wept with
the bitterness known only to those who have had
to weep under like circumstances.

Frederick, seeing he had done wrong, and yet
scarcely conscious where his mistake had arisen,
strove to rectify it by saying, ‘“‘ Dear mamma, don’t
cry, we won't leave you alone, we will all go ¢ogether.
Papa will show us the way—he sees the bright Gate
so plain, he will take us safely; and, if he gets

through, they won’t send you and me back, willGlory Beyond It. 19

 

 

they, mamma? For I have heard heaven is the
other side of the Gate; and you have told me that
it is a beautiful place for good people ; and you are
good, mamma, and though I’m not always good,
you said little children were never sent away, if
they wished to see Jesus.”

‘“ My poor, poor boy,” said his weeping mother,
“you must pass through the valley of the shadow,
to reach the Gate with its Glory ; but, hark! oh, it
is dreadful! another shell has burst close to us.
God preserve us from further harm! if another
_ falls on this house it will be utterly destroyed.”
And the deafening noise of distant artillery, the
roar Of the nearer cannon, the bursting of shells,
the shouts of the soldiers, and the cries of the
people, seemed to form the death-dirge of poor
Monsieur C——.

“Ts all over?” said a gentle voice of inquiry, a
few hours after; “could I'be of any assistance, or
should I be intruding on so much sorrow?”

It was the good Dr. Rebot, whom poor Fred-AN
ao

 

 

 

 

|

te

t 7
RUT 1 Wc ne ath

 

 

 

20 The Gate and the

 

 

erick had condemned so vehemently in our first
pages.

“Monsieur is wonderfully revived,” answered
the nurse, to whom the inquiry was addressed,
“and has rallied more than the doctor thought
possible ; I will tell Madame you are here.

Dr. Rebot was soon ushered into the sick-room,
and seated by the bedside of the sufferer, who
was considerably revived, though still only linger-
ing on the confines of eternity.

““T should have been here long before,” said the
good man, “but I was all yesterday with the
wounded and the dying; and I never recatied
your message till early this morning. Itis sad work,
after all, this carnage ; it harrows one’s very soul.
What is to become of us, I know not. Is my dear
friend Monsieur C-—— severely wounded?” added
the doctor, in an undertone.

“Mortally, I fear,” said his wife. ‘I would gladly
have died for him ; ah! ten thousand times rather,

were it possible,” added the weeping woman.Glory Beyond It. 21

 

The sufferer beckoned Dr. Rebot nearer; anc
then said, “I never thought to see you again in
this life ; but I do not think I shall see many more
suns rise and set. I am sinking fast ; whatever the
medical man may say, my sun is setting.”

““My dear friend, do not discourage yourself too
much ; you have not put off preparation to the last
hour, that I can testify to. But God may, in His
infinite mercy and wisdom, have much work yet for
you to do, and your life may yet be spared to those
who can so ill afford to let you go.”

‘Tt is no use deceiving myself and others,” said
Monsieur C ——. faintly, ‘‘I am very near the dark
river ; but then !——Oh, the Gate appears so wide
open to me, the other side seems so glorious, I fancy
I can almost catch a glimpse of the King in His
beauty ; but it is hard to part with my loved ones.”

At this moment the door opened, and Master
Frederick entered and stole up to the bed, without
at first seeing the good doctor, who was somewhat

concealed behind the curtain: the boy started, and22 | Lhe Gate and the

 

coloured, and looked at his mother, and then at the
doctor, and then at his poor father, and said not a
word. |

“Come hither, my young friend,” said the
doctor gently. “I am sorely grieved you are all in
such trouble, but God will help you, and will never
forsake those who trust in Him.” Frederick did
not put out his little hand, as he generally did ; but
drew back, and looked so different to what the
good man had seen him look before, that he ques-
tioned him as to the cause. Frederick’s mother
remembered about the sparrows, and about the
book ; but thought it best for Frederick to speak
for himself. So she said nothing. After waiting a
minute or two, Frederick seemed to gain courage ;
and, looking up, said, rather bluntly we must
confess-— |

‘“‘T shan’t believe you any more, Dr. Rebot, and I
don’t care for you; you said on Sunday my papa
should be taken care of ; and God has not taken

care of him; and I can’t believe you any more.’Glory Beyond It. 2

 

‘What does he mean?” said the Doctor, looking
interrogatively at Madame C——-; “what does the
child allude to? I cannot imagine.”

“IT do not know that I can explain,” said Ma-
dame C-——~- ;” but I remember before this dreadful
accident, that he came and told me that you said
in your sermon that we were of more worth than
many sparrows ; and that ‘the very hairs of our
heads were all numbered,’ and he thought as his
father was made to go and fight, and was in so
much danger, that, as he was of more worth than all
the sparrows in Paris, your words were not,.true. He
was very angry ; and, I am sorry to say, threatened
to burn the book you so kindly gave him ; but 1
hope you will excuse him, and forgive him; he
does not mean to be rude.”

‘What are you saying?” said the sick man, who
caught a few of the words as they fell. “ Raise me
with my pillows, let me look upon earth once more,
but I want to know of what you are speaking ?”

Having propped up the sufferer tenderly, the24 The Gate and the

 

window was thrown open, that for a few moments
he might taste the delicious breeze that floated
around. The window looked on to a lovely garden
which sloped down to the river’s bank; the scene
was very beautiful, and for a few hours there
seemed a comparative lull in those terrific sounds
which had rent the air the day before. A solitary
bomb now and then disturbed the apparent peace-
fulness of the scene: buta short armistice had taken

thanked heaven that

 

place, and Madame C
there was a short pause; for, though in the back of
the chateau, so furious was the noise the day before
in all the surrounding parts that stillness seemed a
thing forgotten !

‘T shall never walk in that loved parterre again,”
said Monsieur C——; “TI shall never be able to.
wander on the banks of that flowing river as I
loved to do once; but were it not for these dear
ones,” (looking on his wife and boy), ‘“ though life
has so much brightness, so much sweetness, I

could almost long to depart. I beheld such GloryGlory Beyond It. 25

 

last night, that, when I awoke from the sort of
lethargy in which I lay, I could have uttered a cry
at finding I was still on this side Jordan! But what
were you talking about, Frederick? come hither, my
loved one, and tell thy dying father what troubles
thee, little one.”

But the boy burst out sobbing as he gazed on

the stricken face of his noble father, and saw death

 

written on his brow; poor Madame C was
little better, and good Dr. Rebot took in hand to
answer.

‘My dear friend, your little son heard me preach
one Sunday about the sparrows, and the hairs of
our heads being numbered, and that we were of
more worth than many sparrows; and he was very
wroth when you were obliged to go to battle, and
got wounded, because he said you were of more
worth than all the sparrows in Paris or Versailles ;
and I believe he thinks I told a story. Do you not,

my son?” affectionately placing his hands on the

boy's head, ‘Is it not sor”26 The Gate and the

 

“Ves,” sobbed out Frederick ; “ there is a lot—
a lot of little sparrows hopping about this morning
that have not been killed; and (sobbing) my poor
papa is just killed, and—and they are taken care
of; and—and—Great God did not take care of
good papa. And you @d—you did tell a story, Dr.
Rebot! and, oh, I cannot—will not lose my dear
good papa!” And in an outburst of grief he threw
himself on his father’s neck.

They were going to remove him, fearing he would
distress Monsieur C——-; but he motioned them
away, and said, ‘‘ Let him alone; my hours are num-
bered. Let the boy weep out his tears on his father’s
breast—he will not long have that breast to weep
upon; he will soon be fatherless. Now, Doctor,
I am very weak; explain to Frederick what he
does not understand: tell him God 1s all love.”

“But why does God kill my papa?” burst out
Frederick. ‘I wouldn’t care if everything else was
killed, if he and mamma were saved: I would die

myself, that I would!” cried the little fellow.Glory Beyond It. 27

 

“Do take me, papa, if you must go; take poor
Frederick.”

For a few moments none could speak, and then
Dr. Rebot gently said: “ My boy, it 1s very, very
hard at thy tender age to understand these things,
but I will try and teach thee. God 1s too wise, too
good to be unkind: it was He who gave Frederick
the dear father that I fear is now going to be taken
away from him. But God wants him up in heaven ;
he will wait there for Frederick, and meet him when
God calls him to go through the golden Gate of
Glory. But God does care very much for dear papa ;
-he will live again in heaven above, and become
one of the blessed ministering spirits sent to min-
‘ster for them that are heirs of salvation ; and if you
love Jesus you will be an heir of salvation, and go
to Heaven too! But the little sparrows, though
God cares for them on earth, die, and are put in the
ground and there is an end of them, and they have
no beautiful place to go to.”

“Ah,” said Monsieur C , “you must learn to28 The Gate and the

 

trust God, my boy, where you cannot see or under-
stand Him. You know you often want things
which mamma will not give you—not because she
does not love you, but because she loves you so
much that she would rather vex you than give you
anything to do you harm, even if you cried passion-
ately for it; and so it is with God. He will not
give His children what will harm them, He loves
them too much ; and when He sees they have been
long enough in this sinful world, then He calls them
to be with Him for ever, and serve Him day and
night.”

“Yes, papa,” said Frederick ;. “only. I would a
great deal rather that you should live on earth,
even if it is sinful, and take care of me and mam-
ma, than that God should take you to be with the
angels, if it is ever so bright ; and I wish God would
not want you, because there are, I am sure, plenty
of angels without you, papa.”

. ait: 1s hard-to

 

“ Doctor,” said Monsieur C

part with these dear ones ; but I must rest on theGlory Beyond It. 29

 

promise, ‘ Leave thy fatherless children, I will pre-
serve them alive; and let thy widows trust in Me.’”

And then he sank back quite exhausted on his
pillows, and seemed for a time unconscious of aught
passing around him, A spoonful of wine having been
dropped into his lips, he again revived ; and, fixing
his gaze on the Doctor, who still stood by the bed-
side, he beckoned him nearer, and said, “cls there
not, in your opinion, my dear friend, a literal
meaning to those beautiful words, ‘I believe in the
Communion of Saints?’ and is not that beautiful
verse in the ninety-first Psalm, as well as many others,
applicable for us to take hold of for comfort and
edification, —‘ He shall give His angels charge over
thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.’ I think with
much satisfaction on those words in Matthew xvii.
_‘Take heed that ye despise not one of these
little ones ; for I say unto you, that in heaven their
angels do always behold the face of My Father
which is in heaven!’ And when I couple these

with my dear wife’s favourite text, ° Are they not30 The Gate and the

 

all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for them
who shall be heirs of salvation,’ then I believe, when
I am in heaven I shall have the delight, perchance,
of being one amongst that band of ministering spirits
sent forth to watch the steps of my loved ones.”
“IT most heartily, most fully concur with you in
this soothing thought and belief,” said Dr. Rebot ;
“and it is part of the believer’s birthright and
inheritance to be able to claim the fulfilment of
these precious promises. No one more than my-
self stands in awe of putting aught in the place
of Christ Himself. And I have been too many
years a Protestant minister amongst a Roman Ca-
tholic population not to avoid sedulously the put-
ting saints and angels in a place never intended for
them by God. But, on the other hand, the beauty
of the plan of salvation is not fully realized if we
wilfully reject any of its appendix blessings ; and
this I consider we do, if we lose sight of the care
and ministration vested in the hands of the

Heavenly Host. It is their work to do God’s will;Glory Beyond It. 31

~ eer

 

and God’s will is zo¢f that these ministering spirits
should be worshipped-——not that they should be
exalted above Him—but that they should do to
suffering saints what they did to Christ, when He,
as man upon earth, craved sympathy ; and craving
it, angels obeyed His Father’s behest, and came
and ministered unto Him after those hours of weary
conflict, described in Matthew iv. I fear you
are, dear friend, not far from the valley which
even the sweet Psalmist of Israel calls dark. You
are, in the morning of your life, leaving all behind
you love; and you have a right to claim all the
light, all the brightness that you can gather together,
to cheer the gloom of the curse. And with all the
full hold on the. promise made to believers, we can
not only see the Gaze ajar, but we can with the eye
of faith gaze on it as wide open, and almost enter
into the Glories on the other side; which, though eye
hath not seen, nor ear heard, yet can be as fully,
and more fully realized by the believer, than any

traveller who, by reading the most glowing accounts32 The Gate and the

 

of lands he has never seen, still by powerful descrip-
tion comprehends beauties and glories beheld by
others, and portrayed for his edification.”

“Now Lam happy,” said the, dying man. ‘TI
had no fear, no doubt, I humbly trusted in nothing
but the redemption purchased for me by a Saviour’s
blood ; but I longed to know from some one, upon
whose judgment I could confide, that I was not
visionary in my idea that part of the work of those
in heaven is to minister to those left on earth.”

Next morning, the sun rose as brightly as if it
were to shine on nothing but gladness and mirth;
instead of shedding his rays on scenes of sorrow,
bloodshed, and death. The environs of ill-fated
Paris were covered with the slain and wounded;
the widows and orphans raising their streaming
eyes to heaven, and calling out, “Is itnot enough?”
One of the most fatal onsets had been made this
day, both by the invaded and the invaders. Sword
in hand, the Parisians had done their best, and

many a veteran lay in the cold embrace of death,Glory Beyond It. 23

 

and many a newly-made soldier, wearing his trap-
pings in all their freshness, lay by his side, for the
first and last time having wielded his sword. The
ambulances were filled with the wounded to over-
flowing ; for fearful had been the struggle of that day.
The rider and his steed lay dead together. In
all directions were to be seen the dead and dying.
Even those who were used to these scenes of terror
and carnage, turned affrighted from so much dis-
tress and suffering. Frederick wanted to go forth,

and, if possible procure some delicacies for his dying

 

father, for poor Monsieur C was rapidly sink-
ing : the sands of. life were nearly run. But so
dangerous was the state of everything around, that
no entreaties could induce the French doze, who
waited on Frederick, to let her young master set his
feet outside the house.

“But the cannon won't kill me, nor the shells
either,” stoutly argued Frederick ; ‘I’m not fighting,
so they wont hurt me.”

“But,” added his nurse, smiling, ‘neither cannon

334 The Gate and the

nor shell will ask your leave about killing you, be-
cause you are not fighting. Why, your head may be
taken off, as likely as not, and go rolling down
the street. Lots of poor children and women,
and all sorts of people, are killed every hour.
The children’s donne next door was shot through
the heart yesterday, whilst carrying the baby,
poor little thing! and, as she fell, it just tumbled
out of her arms as she died; and some one who
knew the poor girl picked up the baby and
carried it to its mother. And a little boy and
girl were shattered all to pieces this morning, and
lots of other people, in the Rue St. H——, where
you are wanting to go; and you shall not set
a foot out, Master Frederick !”

‘Oh, I wish this nasty war was over—I am so
tired of it!” said the little boy ; ‘and then I could
run and bowl my hoop as I used to do in the
Place du P——, and poor papa would never have
been wounded—and, oh, it is so bad !”

“Do you know, Master Frederick, you will never: Glory Beyond It. 35

 

see your beautiful Leo again, that used to run and
jump with you when you took a walk ? They’ve sent
this morning for the poor dog, and for St. Bernard,
who is chained in the yard ; and I believe the poor
fellows knew they were going to be made into
mince-meat, for they would not move an inch,
though they lashed them.”

“Tl kill those men,” said Frederick; “that I will!
Let me out, I say! let me out ! Cut up my beautiful,
faithful Leo ! and St. Bernard, that papa gave ninety
francs for, into mince-meat! I’ll have the men put
into the pies instead, that I will! and you shan’t
keep me from going after them !”

“It's of no use, Master Frederick ; they’ve been
dead this three hours; so you must not fret about
it any more, you can’t bring them to life again.”

‘‘ Pll starve myself to death,” said Frederick ; “I
won't eat another mouthful of food in this horrid
Paris. Why, they’ll be cutting us up next, and
making pies of us. I will go up directly and tell

mamma about it, and have those men shot.” And36 The Gate and the .

 

up marched the young hero, almost forgetful for the
moment of his sick father, and his situation, till he
reached the door and had his hand on the latch.
He then opened it as noiselessly as he could, and
glided up to his mother’s side, who was watching
his father’s last hours in speechless agony. Her
sorrow and her loveliness struck her own child as
he approached her: she had thrown herself on her
knees by the bed, and lifted up her fair face to
heaven with streaming eyes. Her long auburn hair
had escaped from the band that confined it; her
beautiful lips moved in prayer whilst her hands
were clasped together in supplicating attitude.
The child drew back reverently, and gazed silently;
and forgetting all about poor Leo and St. Bernard,
fixed his eyes on his mother, and then on his
almost: lifeless father. Perchance, it was a scene
that the Recording Angel took notice of, and bore
to heaven the tidings of that sorrowing little band.
Roused by the entrance of her child, she rose,

and fondly gazed on him, and then on his father,Seance a

Glory Beyond It. a7

 

who had opened his eyes, and looked on them
both.

‘Send for Dr. Rebot,” he faintly said; “if it be
possible, bring him.” And at the risk of nis life,
amidst shell and shot, a servant reached the good
man’s house; but he was away, waiting on the

wounded and dying, but after some time he returned

 

and reached Monsieur C ’s chateau in safety.
“Earth is fast receding,” said the dying man,
“heaven is advancing: before the sun rises to-
morrow I shall be where suns never rise or set :
where the Sun of Righteousness shall shine on me
with healing on His wings ; where I shall see the
King in His beauty ; where all tears shall be wiped
from all faces. Yes, my beloved Therese, dry those
burning tears ; I but go to await thee in glory!- I
shall welcome thee soon—it is only a little while
that we shall be separated : then, how glorious our
meeting, though our parting is so sorrowful! Dr.
Rebot, I implore you, if there is any possibility, aid

my Therese and her boy to escape after my death :38 The Gate and the

 

there is no safety for them but in flight, when I am
gone. ‘Things will be much worse, before they are
better, and Paris divided against itself, will be her
own murderess: mark my words. She has more
to fear from her own divisions, than from all the
armies of the confederates put together: no one
will be safe: brother will be against brother, father
against son, children against parents : it will be no
nlace for my Therese to remain in safety. ‘There
is a boatman to whom J have rendered great ser-
vice, whose name is Pierre, and who would die for
me: if any one can effect the escape of my wife
and child, he can; and God preserve them. And
now I have done with earth.” The sufferer then
sank back exhausted with the exertion he had
made.

Dr. Rebot approached the bedside, and taking
Monsieur’s hand in his own he pressed it long and
tenderly, and said, “‘ My friend, you may die happy;
your wife and child shall be placed in safety if I

live ; and I will not rest till I know your desiresGlory Beyond It. 39

 

are fulfilled. I will find out Pierre, and convey to
him your wishes, and see them carried out.

“What time is it?” said Monsieur C———> ““is it
not near sunset? ’’ Being answered in the affirma-
tive, the dying man raised himself slightly, and
asked for the blind to be drawn up. “The sun is
setting—so am I: the sun shall rise in his glory,
and soshallI; the valley may be dark and gloomy,
buf, oh, the “Glory beyond the Gate!” I almost
see the golden city, I almost hear the seraphs’ song,
even now. He who has redeemed me, He who
suffered for me, lived and died for me, is waiting
at the portal to welcome me. Ah! glory seems
begun on earth. Time’s waves are dashing already
on the shores of eternity—they have nearly launched
me there; but all is so bight! Doctor, men may
argue, divines may write, sceptics may sneer, but it
is true; I fee/ that ministering spirits are comforting
me, waiting for me; aye, waiting to bear me to the
‘Glory beyond the Gate.’ You are not near the

valley ; your vision is not yet quickened to see what40 The Gate and the

 

you will behold when your hours, ah, your minutes,
are numbered. Earth is receding, Heaven is ad-

vancineg :

g; and my work will be a glorious one.

Yes; I shall soon be one of the ministering spirits,
‘sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs
of salvation.’ There are no idle ones in heaven ;
speaking of the angels, it says, ‘Are they not a//
ministering spirits?’ It is a joyful, comforting
thought, is it not, Therese?” And seeing his wife
weeping bitterly, he called her to him, and said, “I
am only going a little before thee to await thee, to
welcome thee; our spirits shall meet at the throne,
and in the ‘Glory beyond the Gate’ will our future
be spent together doing God’s work. And now, my
boy, my only one, my cherished child, come to thy
father’s arms once more; rest thy head on his
breast, and receive his blessing.”” Poor Frederick,
with sobbing heart and streaming eyes, drew near.
His fair locks rested on his father’s bosom, and he
folded his hands over his boy in prayer; but after a

mor ~..t’s silence, he cried out, ‘They are calling me,Glory Beyond It. 4t

 

they are waiting for me, ‘I come! I come!’ What
is earth, what are its riches, its honours, to the
‘Glory beyond the Gate ?’ Ah, it is opening wide !
they beckon me. Farewell!’’ And the eyes that
closed on earth opened in heaven ; and the voice
that was silenced here, joined in the glorious strain,
Flallelujah ! for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.

Poor Frederick was unconscious that his father’s
last look of love had rested on him, and that he
was alone. But his mother, seeing all was over,
uttered a piercing cry ; and, throwing herself upon
the dead body of her husband, gave vent to her
pent-up grief, whilst poor Frederick, between his
sobs, called out, ‘‘ Mamma, why did papa leave us?
why did he not take us to the ‘Gate of Glory’
that he talked so much about ? why did not he let
us go with him?”

His mother replied, ‘‘So live, my dear boy, that
you shall meet him who is gone before you. You
and I, my child, have to tread this cold world alone;

but we shall soon be with him we love, in theSS

 

 

 

 

42 The Gate and the

 

‘Glory beyond the Gate’ that he spoke to you
of.”

And amidst the din of distant firing, and the
thundering of the enemy’s shells, and the shouts

of the troops as they marched by, Madame C

 

and her little son, and the good old clergyman,
knelt at the foot of the death-bed, and commended
themselves to the care of the Great Shepherd of
Israel who never slumbers nor sleeps. ‘Turning to
Dr. Rebot, the lady said,—

‘This is bitterness ! this is drinking the dregs of
affliction. Oh! it is hard to believe that He who
wounds can heal.”

“True,” said the old man. “I have already num-
bered far more than three-score years and ten ; and
can fully aver to the truth of the words that, if by
reason of strength it be four-score, yet 1s their strength
labour and sorrow. You are very young, and have -
a long life before you; but then there is a vigour and
a freshness in youth, which there is not in old age :

‘God, tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,’ and HeGlory Beyond ‘[t. 43

 

will temper this terrible blast to you! But it is
bitter, very bitter! It is the terrible sting left by
the curse, and we aré meant to feel it; or God
would not have sent death as a punishment to
Adam and his posterity. But I can feel for and
with you, dear Madame: the wife of my youth,
and two eldest children, were all swept from me
in One day by the vessel foundering in which we
sailed. I escaped with my remaining child, and
daughter : she lived to be the light and joy of my
eyes, and then she was smitten down by fever, and
one short week saw me childless; and I have spent
all these weary years since, alone. But God, my
God, hath not forgotten me; and, in the depths
of despair, He hath placed His everlasting arms
underneath me so that I did not utterly fail. And
when poor Monsieur asked me if I could believe in
the truth of ministering spirits, I could indeed say
Amen and Amen ; for in my darkest, my loneliest
hours of anguish, when flesh and heart seemed as

if they would fail, insensibly I have been cheered,a a

 

A4 Ft he Gate and the

ae

 

not only by reading God’s promises and dwelling
on them, but I have felt assured that ministering
spirits were doing their appointed work—that they
were ministering to ME as an heir of salvation ; and
my loved ones might be some of those ministering.
I did not feel separated from them, except in
body; I felt that there were four more links
between me and heaven, to draw me nearer my
Saviour and my God. To the eye of faith, the
‘Glory beyond the Gate’ becomes visible; we
catch a bright glimpse of that which is to be ours
when the conflict is over, and the sword shall be
exchanged for a crown.”

‘Where shall we lay him?” exclaimed the poor
young widow, looking up in her tears. ‘Where
shall we lay him ? for in all this carnage, this fight-
ing, this uncertainty, nothing is safe. In a short time
no spot may be deemed sacred against profanation,

not a place seems tranquil; all alike seem within

‘the sound of the bomb of the cannon, and the

tramp of armed men; and if I am to leaveGlory Beyond It. 45

 

France, who will see that his last resting-place is
undisturbed ?”

‘““Dear Madame, we, alas! can only do our best,
and leave the rest to God. I do not think under
any circumstances the grave-yards will be disturbed
or desecrated ; still, in the fate of war nothing is
sure. I know a very small burying-ground in a
remote spot in the environs of Paris; perhaps I
can arrange to take the remains of your beloved
husband to this resting-place when there is a lull
for a few hours ; as we should have to pass close
under some of the heaviest firing.”

“JT will go with him, and see him to the last
moment,” said the devoted woman ; “ nothing shall
prevent me being his chief mourner. All his rela-
tives are far away in the provinces, or abroad ; his
brother was killed, and his cousin a few weeks ago,
and he shall not pass alone to the grave, even if it
cost me my life.”’

‘‘T will make all preparations for you,” said the

Doctor ; ‘‘and perhaps after a few days of this terrible46 : The Gate and the

 

fighting there may be an armistice for a short time,
when you might venture out. For the present,
farewell! Till I see you again, the God of the
widow and orphan bless, preserve, and comfort
you !”

The moon had just risen over the Seine, and cast
her silver light on its dancing waters, when a boat
silently and speedily shot into one of the numer-
ous little bays, adjacent to a small clump of under-
wood, that extended along the banks for a short
distance. The boat, being moored, a man jumped
on shore in the garb of a fisherman, and looking
cautiously round uttered a very low whistle. Im-
mediately the branches of the underwood began to
heave, and another figure presented itself, in the
person of the good old pastor, Dr. Rebot.

‘Thou art true to time,” said he, “as the needle
to the pole. I would have met thee nearer, but we
are both known as the friends of the departed
Monsieur C—— ; and, as his party is not in the

ascendancy, it is well not to excite suspicion of anyGlory Beyond It. 47

plans being made which might be thwarted. Iloved
him as my own son; and I have promised that his
widow, if possible, shall be conveyed to a place of
safety ; but there is so much difficulty about it at
the present juncture, that I had well nigh given up
the hope of fulfilling Monsieur’s wishes as regard-
ing her escape. But you will probably not be sus-
pected if Iam not seen with you, and perchance
you may be able to carry out his behest.”

‘And that I will,” said honest Pierre, “if it cost
me my neck. Monsieur C—— was my foster-bro-
ther ; he never forgot me, nor my poor old mother,
and I will not be the one to forget him when he is
gone! Never lived a nobler or better man; pray
the saints I may follow him, and though I am not
of the same religion, I believe his soul is safe,” said
he, crossing himself, “though may be, I shouldn’t
say so; and I will say Ave Marias and Paternosters
for his soul every day whilst life lasts in me.”

“I believe you are true in your attachment to

my departed friend, or I would never trust you with48 The Gate and the

 

our secret,” said Dr. Rebot. “I have, through
powerful interest, got some of Madame’s property
safely away ; and if you can manage, by any means,
under cover of night, to escape with them whilst

you have apparently gone out fishing, I think the

 

thing may be done. Madame C can adopt
your wife’s dress, and her little boy is about the age
of yours, and can wear the same peasant’s clothes ;
and by this means, I think, they will elude pursuit.

To-morrow evening, at sunset, we commit to the

 

erave the last remains of poor Monsieur C , and
on the following one I think the flight might be
carried out with your aid.”

“Vou shall not find me wanting, Doctor ; and if I
do not land them in a place of safety—why, my
name isn’t Pierre, that’s all, and I don’t know
myself.”

The clocks of the city had just tolled the hour
of seven when a hearse and a carriage were seen

slowly advancing to the quiet grave-yard of F——. |

It was hoped by the good Doctor that the fearfulGlory Beyond It. 49

 

sorties would have been over, and that the terrible
firing would have somewhat abated ; but instead of
that, the number of shells thrown into Paris ex-
ceeded any during the last few days; and as the
grave-yard lay in the most dangerous vicinity for
these fearful missiles, Dr. Rebot entreated Madame
C

grave. But she was resolute, and took poor

 

to desist from following her husband to the

Frederick with her. Just, however, as they were
nearing the spot, a tremendous shell burst. Fortu-
nately, only the skirts of its fury swept near them;

"S

 

but it killed both the horses in Madame C
coach, and wounded the driver, who fell down from
his seat. Fortunately, poor old Dr. Rebot was
with them, and assisted them out of the vehicle.
There was no help for it; and in sadness and sor-
row they followed the hearse on foot the remainder
of the distance, and there they laid him in the quiet
corner, with the beautiful cypress trees and lauris-
tinus waving over him ; and there he was to remain
till the last trump shall summon quick and dead to

450 The Gate and the

 

their account. There he sleeps, amid the boom of
the cannon, and the roat of the distant battle—but
it disturbs him not, nor awakens him from his
heavy sleep: the lauristinus shall.continue to bloom
over his grave, and the tall cypress to wave with
the gentle westerly breeze, and stand like some
funeral mute watching the dead! The coffin
having been lowered, and the funeral service read

in all its solemnity and beauty, the sorrowing

 

mourners approached to take a last look at all that
remained of what they had so fondly loved. Poor
Frederick ! his little heart was bursting.

‘“Mother, mother,” he cried, “I cannot leave my
father here all alone, let me die with him. Mother,
mother, [ cannot go.”

“Oh, add not to my anguish, dear: child,” said
his weeping parent; “my heart is riven, you are
my only comfort, my only earthly joy; do not further
embitter my hours.” And throwing the wreaths
of ¢mmortelles they had brought upon the coffin,
Madame C

 

turned, her last look upon theGlory Beyond It. 51

 

lid, and departed, leading her child math her.
Poor Dr. Rebot! it was hard for him to bear it :
it was bitterness to him to witness such deep grief.
He knew it was in vain to strive to soothe it at
present; the pent-up sorrow must find its outlet, or
it would burst the heart in which it was confined.
After proceeding a short distance on the road, Dr.
Rebot found a conveyance for the desolate widow
and her child ; and, promising to meet them again
that evening, he left them to return homewards te
a dismantled house.

We pass on twenty-four hours. The moon has
risen, but is hidden in dark clouds, and the night
looks ominous and lowering as if some storm was
coming in the distance, and would soon rouse the
earth with its fury.

A small fishing-boat might, by very keen eyes,
‘be perceived silently stealing up to the banks of
the river, where beautiful gardens and sloping lawns
stretched down to the water’s edge; and ever and

anon, as the moon’s veil of clouds was partiallya

52 The Gate and the

 

removed, two figures might be noticed stealthily
making their way towards the boat. And if we
approach a little nearer we shall find it is our old

friend Madame C

 

and her little son Frederick.
She had assumed the disguise of a common fisher-
woman, and Frederick that of a fisherman’s boy ;
and with feverish anxiety they were making their
way to meet Pierre at the appointed hour—to
flee, probably for ever, from all they loved, all they
cared for; all that had been and was dearest to
them! Poor Madame could scarcely pick her way
with her blinding tears, and her boy’s sobs broke
painfully upon the silence.

‘‘Mamma, what will become of us this dreadful
night? hark! the thunder is beginning to roll already.
Look how the lightning is flashing! and I know
there will be a dreadful storm, and we shall all be
lost: we had better be sleeping with poor papa in
that quiet churchyard,” said Frederick.

“Hush!” said Madame C——; “you must be

silent, or we may be heard and intercepted, andGlory Beyond It. 53

 

then all will be over with us, and our escape.- As
your poor father wished it so, we must try and
please him—I think I hear Pierre’s low whistle:
yes, he is there ; I can just distinguish the mast
of the boat.’ However, at this moment, footsteps
were heard approaching from an opposite direction ;
and they hastily hid themselves in the thick olive
trees which they were then passing. It was a night
patrol changing watch, and which, had they met,
all would have been lost. Fortunately, the men,
who were engaged in full talk, did not notice
through the glimmering light either the mast of
the little boat, or the forms of those concealed
amongst the trees. However, after these men had
passed, they then knew for a short time they would
be free from further molestation, and should have
time to embark. Meantime, the thunder rolled
and the lightning began to flash much more fre-
quently and vividly, and the storm to approach
much nearer.

“Mother,” said the frightened child, “do you54 The Gate and the

 

think the ministering spirits will be sent to watch
over us to-night, and do you think papa is amongst
them? If heis, I could be quite happy and feel
quite safe; but I do not like this.black stormy night,
and then when Pierre gets out to sea, it will bea
great deal rougher than in the river.”

‘““My darling,” said his mother, “we must trust
to Him who is the Head and Disposer of the
Angelic Host, He alone can aid us in our dire
need. But I do believe that those ministering
spirits, that your dear father and I so loved to
think of, are very near us, are sent to watch over
us, and have already prevented our falling into the
hands of those who just now might have frustrated
our escape, had they discovered us. Now let us
hasten on, or Pierre will be gone.”

The moment they appeared, Pierre stepped for-
ward, and silently handed the fugitives on board
his little craft. He dared take no one into his
confidence, but brought one of his own sons, old

enough to steer; and that was all the assistanceGlory Beyond It. 55

 

he would have, in crossing the open sea, no matter
what weather they encountered. But inquiry was
rife concerning Madame C——, and had she re-
mained another day, her escape would probably
have been intercepted. Weary and worn, she sank
down in the bottom of the boat, overcome by con-
flicting feelings. Good Dr. Rebot had been with
them to the last, endeavouring to comfort them
before their departure ; but he did not dare to be
seen with them, lest it might lead to suspicions being
raised of her intended flight. Pierre, uneasy at
being so near land, was anxious to put out into the
middle of the river before he was observed. He
had not hitherto spoken to Madame C—— or her
son; and, with genuine native politeness and feel-
ing, avoided intruding himself (during the first
painful moments) on her attention. Presently,
however, after hoisting his sail, he approached,
hat in hand, to the disguised lady, and said—

“Tt is my sorrow, Madame, that I can offer you

no better accommodation in your flight, than this56 The Gate and the

 

poor craft. I fear it’s a stormy night we’re going
to have; and you will feel it terribly, as them
is but little shelter in my tiny hold; it will not
keep us sailors dry, much less a tender lady
and her child. May the saints preserve us> this
night! for we shall want help. I fear we shall
have to encounter a terrible night, for if I do not
get out to sea before daylight, my craft will be
instantly marked as out of her usual beat, and a

dozen bullets will be through us before we can

 

Speak. “Avast there, Jim! or well be on the
rocks in that cove.- Now, Master Frederick, take
this boat-cloak, and roll yourself right up in it; it’s
better than all them other wrappings.”

The small craft soon made her way down the
river, and ‘before long was out at sea; but, alas!
the winds and waves appeared set against the poor
wanderers, and all seemed very dark.

“OQ mamma, what a dreadful clap of thunder !”
said poor little Frederick. ‘‘ Mamma, I think that

the world must be coming to an end ;—oh, what aGlory Beyond It. 57

 

terrible flash of lightning! it looked as if it would
snap the mast in two. Mamma, is God watching
OVEr us’?!

“Ves, my darling, He is! I feel assured that He
is very near us—His rod and His staff they comfort
me; I can commit myself and my fatherless child
to my heavenly Father in the full assurance that
He doeth all things well. My boy, perhaps this
night we may meet your father; and, oh, how
glorious will that meeting be!”

Just at that moment the vessel gave a tre-
mendous lurch—one of the waves broke over the

concluded

 

stern of the vessel. Madame C
the vessel would never right again, and gave up all
for lost ; but, wonderful to relate, the craft nghted,
though severely damaged on her broadside.

"oh think,’ said, Pierre, “ that the vessel may still
live through the storm.” But as he spoke a sudden
shock from a tremendous wave bore away the mast,
and other parts of the vessel, and left them drift-

ing without rudder or sail; and with a tremendous58 The Gate and the

 

lurch the fisherman’s boat was carried on the sands
over which the breakers were wildly dashing! Poor
Pierre! he seemed to forget himself, his loss, and
his danger. Every feeling was sacrificed in the
one desire to save his precious freight, and fulfil

had

swooned, poor Frederick was crying bitterly; but

 

his promise to Dr. Rebot. Madame C

though there was great danger, Pierre thought he

and

 

might succeed in dragging Madame C
her boy to land, as the small wreck would be
dashed to pieces almost immediately. He de-
termined on making a tremendous effort. He
pulled off his heavy pea jacket, and calling to his
boy to follow his example, he plunged into the
waves, placing his arm round Madame C——,
and telling Jim to do the same with Frederick,
—father and son being excellent swimmers. ‘The
distance from the sands to the shore was very short,
but so fearful was the fury of the breakers that
it seemed doubtful whether all would not be lost

together. The glimmer of a light in a fisherman’sGlory Beyond It. 59

 

cottage on thé rocks cheered the hearts of poor
Pierre and his son, and nerved them to fresh effort.
As they were almost despairing, a tremendous
wave bore them with great force completely on to
the shore. Father and son had gallantly clung
to their precious freight; but so entirely had
Madame C

all his efforts were useless, and that he had only

swooned away that Pierre feared

 

succeeded in bearing her to the shore to bury her.
Poor Frederick, benumbed and dripping, stood
over her with a bursting heart, the faint glimmer ot
morning light revealing his mother’s wan features.
Ten years seemed to have passed over her lovely
countenance since the death-warrant had been sealed
on her husband’s brow. |

‘‘Mamma, dearest mamma, do not leave me!”
sobbed poor little Frederick ; “ oh, do not leave me
alone—I cannot bear it!” and the little fellow’s
tears fell fast on his mother’s face.

‘¢We must hasten to rouse some of the cottage

folks,’ said Pierre ; ‘“‘and convey her to some place60 The Gate and the

 

of shelter, and if possible restore animation.” Leav-
and Frederick,

Pierre hastily scrambled over the rough rocks in

 

ing Jim to watch Madame C

quest of the cottage he had-seen with the light
burning ; and having gained the summit of the hill,
he knocked loudly at the door, and demanded
assistance for the love of the Virgin Mary and all
the saints. ‘The honest people, greatly surprised
at this early visitant, in so lonely a spot, quickly
opened the door; and seeing the dripping fisherman
quickly surmised the truth that he was wrecked.
At his request, they prepared a humble couch for
the sufferer, Madame C—— ; and, having hastily
contrived a stretcher, they prepared to follow and
assist in conveying her up the precipitous ascent.
Tenderly they conveyed the lady to the fisherman’s
cottage; and the man, with great kindness and
readiness, set out on foot to fetch the nearest doc-
tor, though he lived at a considerable distance.
For hours Madame C—— evinced no signs of life,

beyond the faintest breathing; and Pierre beganGlory Beyond It. 61

 

to think that, before the doctor arrived, all would
be over. The exposure and shock had been too
great for one already greatly debilitated by watch-
ing and sorrow. The doctor at last arrived, and,
to Frederick’s great joy, he was an Englishman,
who, like poor Frederick’s father, had become
naturalized to France, and had all his interests and
associations in that country. It was a touching
spectacle ; and so the doctor thought as he gazed
upon it. ‘There, ona hard pallet of straw in the
rough habiliments belonging to a fisherman’s wife,
lay one as fair and as gentle as eye need wish to
rest upon; only just past the early spring-time of
youth, and yet with sorrow, engraved as with a
ploughshare, on her brow.

‘¢ Will she live?” whispered Pierre in French ; “is
there any hope—tell me ?”

Poor Frederick looked up, and said, ‘‘ Oh, good
doctor, save my poor mamma; the cruel Prussians
and Germans killed my poor papa, and I have no

one left to love now; oh, do save her, please do!”62 | The Gate and the

 

i “My poor boy,” said the doctor, ‘‘ you are in-
| deed to be pitied ; but there are, alas, hundreds and
| hundreds of orphans like you. But it is sad, very
i sad, to see one of such gentle birth exposed to such
| misery and danger.”

| : ‘¢We did it for the best,” said Pierre ; ‘‘I have
| | lost my all in saving her: but it was the dying
2 prayer of her husband, my foster-brother, that, if

possible, she should escape, and I know many of

 

 

the reasons that urged him to desire this. There
was no getting out of Paris for love or money, save
by stratagem. And we braved all, and escaped;-but
now I’m wishing I had had no hand init,” said the
poor fellow, drawing his shirt-sleeve across his eyes.
“T wish I had not lent a hand in it, that I do; but
it was for the best.”
After an hour’s friction, and the application of
hot remedies, external and internal—to the inex-
| pressible joy of those around, Madame C—— once
| more opened her eyes, gazed on the doctor’s, and

then on Pierre’s face, and faintly said,—

SS SE SE TR SESE

 

e ; ,
iwc kaGlory Beyond It. 63

 

‘“¢ Where am I Pp—oh, I am come back!” she said
mournfully. ‘ All was so bnght ; I met him at the
portal who is taken from me, and he said, ‘I have
been waiting for thee, and looking for thee; and
now together we will do God’s holy work as His
ministering spirits ; together we will watch over the
child thou hast still left behind thee: together we
shall realize the matchless, the untold, the incon-
ceivable ‘Glory beyond the Gate.’ And now,”
added she, ‘“‘I find I am still here on this side of
it ; and it seems such a disappointment—save when
I look upon thee, my cherished one.”

Frederick threw himself upon her bosom ; and,
throwing his arms around her, called out, “ Dearest
mamma, if you had gone to papa, surely you would
have taken your Frederick with you, and not left
him all alone ?”

‘Ah, my child: thou art right ; God is very good
to me, to have saved me for a while for thy sake.
I must not be rebellious; I must be thankful for all

my untold mercies; I must seek to guide thy young64 The Gate and the

 

footsteps into the path that leads to Eternal life.”
But she said, “How is it I am here instead of in
the boat ?” and she added, looking at the doctor,
‘who is that good gentleman P ”.

“The same,” said he, with a kind look, “who
has brought you back again, under God’s blessing,
to smile once more on your orphan boy—he indeed
needs your care ; and I am thankful to heaven I
came here. And now, Madame, compose yourself,
—you are amongst friends. J am a countryman of
yours, though in this land ; and, strange to say, I be-
lieve from Pierre’s account that 1 knew your husband
well before he married. Think not that you are
amongst strangers; my wife will welcome you as a
friend ; and we should only thank God to be per-
mitted to show hospitality to the widow and the
fatherless of Monsieur C——. It is a privilege
which we avail ourselves of with delight.” And,
turning to Pierre, he asked how long the husband of

Madame C

 

had been dead, and to’what place

he was steering for when they were shipwrecked.Glory Beyond It. 65

 

Returning to the room, the doctor told Madame

C

for her on the next day; trusting she would be

 

he would go home and send a conveyance

strong enough to take the short journey to his
house. 7
On the following morning she was somewhat re-
vived ; and having remunerated the honest people
at the cottage for their kindness, Madame C——
and her little son set out for the doctor’s in an easy
conveyance, Pierre and his son following on foot.
Arrived at the pretty cottage that belonged to the
doctor, a bright, ‘kindly woman appeared at the
door to welcome the wanderers, who were still very
weak. She superintended, with the doctor, the
careful transmission of the invalid to the house
without much exertion. The snow-white entrance,
the cheap, though pretty carpet, the fresh nosegay
of flowers, and the soft easy-chair with its pillows
ready for the wanderer, looked so inviting, that
they spoke volumes to the heart of the poor way-

worn Therese. She could not speak, but she

566 The Gate and the

 

pressed the hand of the doctor’s wife, and looked
gratefully into her face; and the good lady turned
aside to wipe away an unbidden tear that would
leave its tiny cell and trickle down her cheek. —
Strange to say, that, hke many of the remarkable
incidents and melodramas of life, the doctor who
had by a singular coincidence been called to the
poor wanderer, was the intimate friend of the
husband of Madame C-——— before his marriage,
and deeply attached to him. ‘They were both men
who in early life had chosen the strait and narrow
path that leadeth unto life, and this had bound them
together in a peculiarly strong manner; but great
distanee and absorbing employment in their pro-
fessions had (as it does in many cases) gradually
caused to cease the correspondence which they at
first kept up on their separation. All the doctor
knew of his former friend was this—that he had
married a lovely Protestant lady of high birth, and
that it was a most happy union ; but little did he

dream when first summoned to the bedside ofGlory Beyond It. 67

 

Madame C—— that he was attending the widow
of his dear and early friend.

After two or three days’ rest, Pierre was anxious
to know what were the plans of Madame C——.
The good doctor and his wife had become deeply
interested in their visitor, and greatly attached tothe
little boy, as they had no children of theirown. The
doctor greatly feared that consumption had set its
seal on Madame Therese; and believed her wholly
incapable of a long and arduous journey, even if
she could accomplish it in the frightfully unsettled
state of the provinces. He and his wife strongly
urged that the poor lady should fora time, at least,
take up her residence with them. There. was
a link between them and her departed husband ;
her little boy, too, seemed bright and happy, and a
weakness had stolen over her which appeared to
make exertion a weariness. She therefore con-
sented with gratitude for a time to make this quiet
spot her home, and acceded to the wishes of her

new-found friends and Frederick. Poor Pierre! he68 The Gate and the

 

was inconsolable ; he considered his mission had
been most ineffectually performed, and he felt
ashamed, he said, to meet the good Dr. Rebot. But
Madame Therese told him that he had sacrificed
everything for her benefit, and the want of success
was not in any way attributable to any want of care
on his part. “Nay,” she added, kindly, “‘ you have
placed me amongst better friends than I might
have found whither I was going; so now, good Pierre,
rest tranquil, and do not distress yourself. You
must take this letter to Dr. Rebot, that contains
the truth, and instructs him to make good your
loss out of property he holds for me.”

“Tf it were not for my family and that lama
poor man,” said Pierre, “ I would not take a franc ;
but as my boat was my livelihood, I fear I must
accept it, and I thank you forit. All the saints and
the Virgin Mary befriend you! and I will say an
Ave Maria three times a day for your happiness
and safety—night and morning I will ever look to

beholding you and Master Frederick once more.[We - os
et

 

Glory Beyond It. 69

 

Farewell, madam,’ and poor Pierre reverently
kissed the hand that Madame Therese held out to

him.

It was a lovely morning; all Nature seemed
dressed in brightest array, as if she had donned
her best habiliments to make a glad holiday. The
day was so warm that the windows into the garden
were open, and the bright beautiful flowers looked
up and smiled—‘“ remnants of Eden,” pencilled
by the hand of their Creator as no human hand
could have imitated. No word had passed from
the doctor’s lips to Madame Therese concerning
his fears on her behalf; and she had apparently
very much regained strength. He was greatly sur- *
prised, therefore, when on the morning in question
his visitor turned abruptly from gazing on the
garden, and said, “ Doctor, I shall never see those
lovely flowers bloom again. I am looking on them
for the last time.” |

“My dear Madame,” said he, hoping to pass

off her melancholy forebodings, “I trust you will70 The Gate and the

 

not so soon be tired of us and our poor cottage
garden. Ours will be the loss, at all events; and
I think Master Frederick will hardly agree to the
arrangement of your leaving.”

“Ah, doctor, you are very kind and very good,
and so is your gentle wife; but you know I am

going—yes, going fast—to a bourne from which I

 

shall never return ; and you cannot deceive me.”

The doctor again tried to turn the subject, but
Madame Therese was determined not to be baffled,
and to ascertain what was the doctor’s candid
opinion. ‘ You know,” she said, “that as far as
your foresight goes, you have no idea I shall be
‘long before I join those who have gone before me,
and are waiting for me.”

The doctor could not stand the searching gaze
of her eyes, fixed on him with such a look of in-
quiry ; and he replied, “‘ Dear Madame, all things
are possible with God ; and you may yet live to see
your dear boy grow up, and be able to train him

in his dear father’s steps.”Glory Beyond It. 71

 

“Yes, it 1s possible, but not probable; and you
know it, doctor. I shall not long be separated from
him whom I so loved; but I am not rebellious.
I would rather have waited to have reared my
boy ; but it is God’s will, and I know and feel
my days are numbered, But it is so beautiful to
rest in God: to pillow our faith on the promises,
to rely on the assurance that, as God’s children,
we shall not have one sorrow fall on our heads
without His permission. I seem the last few weeks
as if I had had a bright glimpse of the ‘ Glory
beyond the Gate ;’ it seems to open to me so
brightly that I cannot believe that it is so difficult
to realize the joys of heaven. I sometimes can-
not persuade myself I am on earth or in the body,
such bright visions present themselves before me.
God’s Word seems as if it had such truth, such ful-
ness in it, that it appears an untold mine of wealth,
only to be fully realized by him who digs deeply

for its treasures. I rest on the promises of my

God.”7D The Gate and the

 

A few days after this, the evening sun was set-
ting more gloriously than usual, the clouds seeming
as if on fire with brilliancy. Whilst sitting watch-
ing it, little Frederick rushed in.out of breath, and
said, ‘‘ Mamma! mamma, look there, look there !”’

“Well, my darling,” said his mother, “ what is
ie’

“Why, mamma, look at those beautiful clouds
and all the golden streaks. Is not that the Gate of
Glory poor papa used to talk so much about to
Monsieur Rebot? Don’t you see it, mamma?
look, I can fancy itopens. I wonder if papa is there,
and whether he sees us? Shall we go in at that
Gate, Mamma, and see all those bright things papa
did?”

‘““My dear boy,” said Madame Therese, “‘it is
very beautiful, and I do not wonder it makes you
think of heaven and your poor father: but we can-
not see that glorious Gate he spoke of: it is not
visible to our human eyes; it 1s far, faraway. But

you and I, Frederick, shall be able to see it, andGlory Beyond It. 73

 

pass through it, if we love God and seek to follow
Him, as I have often told you; and then we shall
both see dear papa.”

‘Oh, Iam so sorry!” said Frederick; “I thought
that was the beautiful Gate, and that I could fly up
to it with lovely wings like the angels ; I am afraid ,
I shall never get there.”

“My child, God will lead and keep thee if thou
look to Him, young as thou art. ‘Suffer the little
children,’ Jesus said, ‘to come unto Me, and forbid
them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’”

The doctor’s wife had proved a true and devoted
friend to Madame Therese and her boy, and to her
had the desolate young widow confided her tale of
sorrow, namely, that she expected in a very short
time to be again a mother: the bitterness of this
anticipation being greatly increased by the certainty
which she felt that she should never live to bring
her child up. Consumption had set its deadly seal
upon her: the terrible scenes in Paris, the agony

she endured during the period her husband was in74 The Gate and the

 

active service, and the shock of his death, had all
done their work too surely: and then that fearful
night had completed the evil, and had evidently
brought on a most rapid decline. Three months
only had she been at the doctor’s; but her thin
, transparent hands, sunken eyes, short cough, and
hectic flush, told a tale so striking that no one
could be deceived. She loved life, and valued it ;
bitter as was her grief, she would have roused her-

self for the sake of her child, and for the sake of

 

 

carrying out her expected duties; but the fiat had
gone forth. The sweet face got thinner every day,
the eyes more glassy, the cheek more hectic, the
step weaker, the voice more feeble: all told that
she was fast approaching the valley of the shadow
of death. And yet, with all this in her eyes, with
the knowledge of her husband’s opinion of the
poor sufferer, the doctor’s gentle tender wife never-
theless formed all kinds of airy visions of bright
happy days for the young mother, who, with a new-

born interest, should trace in the new-born strangerGlory Beyond It. aS

 

a resemblance to its father’s features; should, with
fresh motives for life, gather fresh strength and live
to teach the tiny feet their first step ; and teach the
little stranger, with its first lisp, to prattle the name
of a father it had never seen and would never know.
And with her busy fingers intent on minute caps,
and tiny garments, and long robes, the kindly dame
lost sight of the truth in the dreams of the future.

But it came ; and the poor dame had unwillingly
to open her eyes to the hopelessness of her visions.
A few weeks passed on; and, on a bright sunny
morn, a new-born babe was laid in its mother’s
arms to receive her first kiss.

“My precious, my fatherless one!” said Madame
Therese ; “God help thee, thou wilt soon be
motherless also. My tears have baptized thy en-
trance into this stormy world, and thou art launched
at once on a sea so rough and stormy, I fear thy
little bark will be wrecked, thy little lamp of

life extinguished ; but,’ added she, “wherefore

should I fear? God, my God, will not forget me;ee

 

76 The Gate and the

X,

I can testify to the truth of the promises—I feel, I
know ; they are sure as adamant—oh, ‘the Glory
beyond the Gate!’ I feel it, I realize it: men may
argue, may deny it, may smile at it as fanatical ba
am assured of it, oh, all seems so peaceful, so
bright! My baby, my fatherless baby, I can lay
thee at the foot of the cross, cradled in the promises
made to the orphan and the widow. ‘Thou art safe,
my precious one; defenceless as thou art, I fear not

for thee.”

 

 

The poor doctor's wife stood weeping by the

bedside—who could help it? Certainly not a

| tender woman like her ; and she besought Madame
Therese to look at the babe’s lovely eyes, and tiny

fingers, and not to dwell on sorrowful thoughts

either past or future. A few hours after this, poor

Frederick was entreating to see his new baby-sister,

and his wish was not denied. Painters might have

vied with each other in obtaining a glimpse of

this scene for their pencils ;—surely, had the paint-

brush done it justice, then the fortunate artist wouldGlory Beyond It. 77

 

have been forthwith certain of the first place for
his picture, in any exhibition in the world! There
lay the fair young mother, her long hair unconfined
waving around her! Encircled in her arms lay her
new treasure, on which she was fondly gazing.
Frederick was standing with eyes rivetted on his
mother and his new-born sister; in his hand was a
bunch of lilies of the valley and pink rosebuds ;
but he was so perfectly absorbed in the picture be-
fore him that the gift he had brought remained in
his hand unbestowed. The good doctor’s wife
stood looking on the group with silent admiration ;
and, at the moment, the sun, which had been ob-
scured all day, suddenly burst forth, and some of
its rays illumined the little group, and, glancing
on the fair-haired boy, lit up all around for a few
moments with life and glory.

“Mamma dear, I have brought you and my
pretty sister some such lovely lihes, Monsieur, the
doctor, says they are the most beautiful he ever

saw. Cannot baby smell them ?” added he, presen-78 Lhe Gate and the

 

ting the bunch to the tiny morsel of flesh lying
in his mother’s arms. He little thought those very
flowers would be laid in their coffin as his last gift,
and that he had brought this offering as it were for
their tomb; but so it was. Two or three weeks
passed on, and even the good doctor began to

hope that the fiat was withdrawn for a time, and

that the young mother would be permitted to cherish

her little one, and live to launch it into the world
with a parent’s love. But it was not to be; and
towards the end of the fourth week, instead of
gaining strength, she seemed to lose all she had
gained. They had moved her into a cheerful room,
where she could lie and look upon a wide expanse
of hill and dale, and forest glade. She had sat
up for some hours most days, but now she was too
weak to leave her bed.

“It 1s hard to leave thee, my darling,” said
Madame Therese, gazing on her infant; “would
that I could bear thee in my arms to thy father; I

do not like to leave thee this side the Gate, but IGlory Beyond It. 79

 

will trust and not be afraid; and my poor Frederick,
he is better fitted to battle with the world, but he
is In more danger from it; I must place him in
the hands of Him who gave him to me, and will
He not do better for him than I can do with my
tenderest love?”

And the sweet flower faded day by day, and the
little bud that lay beside it withered too, and all
the loving care of tlie doctor’s gentle wife, and all
his skill, could not save them!

Dr. Rebot, by some extraordinary interest, had
managed to get out of Paris, and travel to see the
dying woman. He had been left in charge of
her property by the last wish of her husband, and
guardian to her little boy. It was a sorrowful
meeting ; the dear old man could hardly trace in
the faded figure before him the once splendid
Madame C

was brightness within. The beauty of the casket

 

; but he found all was peace, all

had indeed passed away, but the jewel it contained

shone more brightly than ever; and the rays it80 The Gate and the

 

emitted proved that it would soon be amongst the
Lord’s most precious jewels spoken of in the third
chapter of Malachi.

Dr. Rebot in vain strove to hide his feelings ;
and as he placed the tiny stranger in his arms, and
reverently received it into the Church by the holy
rite of baptism, two tears fell on the baby’s face
as he stooped down, and gazed on it; and those
tears were noticed and recorded above. It was a
touching scene, such as angels love to look upon ;
aye, ministering spirits were sent forth to minister
for that dying mother, and whisper to her “to lean
upon the promises of her God.” Ministering spirits
were around her, and who shall say that her be-
loved one was not of the band who were sent to
solace her in that hour of need, and to watch the
moment when her spirit should be borne to the
“Glory beyond the Gate?” And as Madame
Therese gazed on the good old clergyman, then
on her babe, then on her boy, she raised her hands

to heaven, and exclaimed, “ Now lettest thou thyGlory Beyond It. SI

 

servant depart in peace.” It was evident to all
around that her hours were numbered, and poor
Frederick, catching the infection of gloom that
surrounded him, threw his arms around his mother,
and said—

“Mamma, do not leave me as poor papa did;
if you are going through the bright Gate to see him,
take me and little sister with you also ; but he won’t
know her, mamma, dear ; he hasn’t seen her before.
So you must show her to him, mamma; she has such
a pretty name too, Marie Therese; papa will know
mea long way off, will he not? For he has not been
away a great while, so as to forget me, and I have
not grown much, mamma; for I can wear the same
things I did before poor papa died ;” and thus the
child prattled on, unconscious of the gulf which
would soon be between him and both his parents,
and his baby-sister. —

The baby had been christened Marie Therese,
and once more laid by the side of its mother ; and

Dr. Rebot, and the physician and his wife, and
682 The Gate and the

Frederick, were standing round the bedside of the
gentle sufferer, when she suddenly said, in a much
stronger tone than usual, “‘Raise me up.” They did
so; and then, to their astonishment, she spoke out
so clearly that all her weakness seemed to have
disappeared. But, alas! it was just as with the
lamp on going out, at that moment suddenly flicker-
ing the most brightly in its socket. “Listen,”
said the dying woman; “my feet are already
touching the waters of Jordan; already do I
feel that the hand of death is upon me. But
all is joy, and peace, and brightness; I hear
the waves dashing on the shore of eternity
without fear ; nothing in myself, I am everything
in Him who has redeemed, justified, and glorified
me: I can say with the inspired writer of old, ‘I
know in whom I have believed.’ There is no un-
certainty, no doubt.. There is a fulness of joy in
my heart I cannot explain, but which is founded
on no visionary basis ; it is anchored sure and firm

on the Rock of Ages. The waves of unbelief mayRRR msi mse wn

Glory Beyond /t. 83

 

beat against this Rock; but it is steadfast, immove-
able. I can commit my fatherless children, without
fear, to the care of Him who lent me these pre-
cious treasures; and, oh!” added she (clasping
her hands and raising her eyes to heaven), “I
shall soon be amongst the ministering spirits sent
forth to minister for them who are heirs of salva-
tion.” And turning to those around her, she said:
“When you come to die, you will know and feel
as I do now ;—that ministering spirits are sent to
comfort you—that you are sensible of their pre-
sence—that they are sent by a Father’s loving hand
to conduct you to glory ; messengers to bear you
to the presence of Him in whom there 1s fulness
of joy, and at whose right hand there are pleasures
for evermore. Yes, on this side the gate I am per-
mitted to taste some of the glories that are beyond
it. Hark! they are calling me—I come! I come!
They are beckoning me—oh, keep me not! my
beloved ones are waiting to bear me into the pre-

sence of my Lord and my God!” And with one sigh84 The Gate and the

 

the birth-pangs of entering another life were over,
and she lay at rest. She had been welcomed by
the Angelic Host; and now with him who had gone
before her, and was awaiting her, she sang her
praises.

Frederick, with straining heart and weeping eyes,
understood that she had followed his father, but
could not understand why she had left him behind ;
and, in the bitterness of his grief, he called out,—
‘Mamma has left me here, and I shall never know
my way to the glorious Gate, and perhaps if I found
the path the Gate would not be open; and I shan’t
be tall enough to lift the knocker, because mamma
used to say, ‘ Knock, and it shall be opened,’ and
oh! they won’t hear me crying outside, and I shall
never get in, and I shall never see papa and
Mamma any more.” And, overcome with grief, he
threw himself on his mother’s inanimate form, and
wildly clung to it.

But Monsieur Rebot gently drew him away, and,

folding him in his arms, said: “ My boy, there is~~

=

Glory Beyond It. 85

 

One who will knock for thee, go to the Gate when
thou mayest; and if thou dost love thy Saviour
here, He will Himself open wide the portal and
receive thee joyfully. Fear not, thou art one of His
lambs, and He will carry thee gently in His bosom,
for thou canst not carry thyself, or find thine own
way; but fear not, little one, safe in the Saviour’s
arms, alt shall be well; only keep chere, and all is
well. Thou shall not want for an earthly father,
for to my life’s end thou shall be my son ;? but my
race will soon be over, my hour-glass is nearly run,
and then I must trust thee to the good Lord’s hand
to guide thee to Glory. And I and thy mother and
thy father shall be among those sent forth to min-
‘ster for the heirs of salvation ; and, perchance, we
shall be sent to thee, to comfort thee on thy road
to Glory.” And then the good physician stroked
the fair curls on the boy’s head, and said, “* Thou
shalt never want a friend whilst I live ; but fear not,
were it that thou wast quite alone, God would help

thee, and the faintest knock at the door of mercy,86 The Gate and the

 

or at the gate of heaven, shall be heard, and it
shall be opened unto thee. Never fear, little one,
‘for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’” And
poor Frederick with these assurances sobbed him-
self to sleep ; and Heaven had mercy on that tiny
babe, and sent a ministering spirit, perchance its
mother—to beckon and carry it to Glory. For it
pined away, and died three days after its young
mother was called away; and they laid this fragile
bud in the gentle parent’s arms, and placed them
together in one coffin to await the resurrection
morn. Andon the breast of the mother they placed
the faded bunch of lilies and rosebuds which
Frederick had brought as a first offering to his little
sister, and which the doctors wife (good soul)
had taken care of, and pressed carefully, saying,
“it was the first offering to Zfe, and it should be
the last offering to death.” And then they left
mother and child to sleep together under the
coffin-lid they placed over them, and laid them

n a lovely spot, where the fresh spring flowersGlory Beyond It. 87

 

bloom, and the beautiful weeping-willow covers
the grave with its light foliage, and waters it with
the early dew of morn, and they have met the
lovely sleeper and her babe, and the husband who
had gone before, and who awaited her. They
have learnt the song of the ransomed; they are
before the throne of God, and “shall go no more
out for ever ;” and father and mother are waiting
for the one left upon earth, the little Frederick.
How long or how short the time before he reaches
the Gate, none can tell; he has yet to prove himself
whether he be a good soldier of the cross, whether
he be a true disciple. But good old Dr. Rebot
says that he feels assured “that the child of
so many prayers can never be lost;” and that
one day, he and Frederick, and the father and
mother gone before, shall all be amongst the
ministering spirits that they loved to think of on
earth; and that already his very soul seems to
have a foretaste of the glories of the celestial city,

whilst with the eye of faith he now beholds the88 The Gate and the

A

Gate, and catches a vision of the ‘Glory beyond

it!” And poor Frederick sits and listens to all
that Dr. Rebot has to tell him about those he loves
so much ; and the old man and his young charge
may be seen wandering in the quiet eventide,
or at least when the noise and din of fighting is
somewhat silenced by the approach of night, in
the churchyard where they laid poor Monsieur
C———. ‘They wander to the spot where’ he rests.;
and Frederick strews the grave with flowers and
zmmortelles which he strings into wreaths; and then,
if, under the cover of night, they can venture so
far, they love to find out old Pierre, and sit and
talk with him of past days and loved memories,
and of those who are now no longer battlmg with
life and its sorrows, but who, having fought the
good fight, have entered the Gate, and are now in
the full enjoyment and realisation of the Glory
beyond it. And Frederick says that when he is
naughty, and forgets his prayers, and forgets what

his mother taught him, that ever and anon he isGlory Beyond It. | 89

 

sure her spirit hovers over him, and incites him to
follow her as she followed Christ, and that he can-
not feel happy till he has said his prayers, and
asked God to forgive him.

Gentle child, be thy mother near thee or not, if
the thought of thy mother as a ministering spirit
urges thy steps onward and upward, it will lead
thee to thy Saviour and thy God; and there we
leave thee also, trusting that thy young steps may
be guided aright, and that thou, thy baby-sister,
thy father, and thy mother,.may all meet in the

“Glory beyond the Gate.”

Te END:

 

Watson & Hazell, Printers, London and Aylesbury.PLEASE RETURN TO
ALDERMAN LIBRARY

 

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