GOD; in the room, where angels were waiting for the spirit; where He Who had the keys of death and hell was standing to unlock the door for one more, and then to take him into the long corridor which leads to the eternal world; and having had a short but deep communing, to open the other door-oh, of which? heaven or hell? Thank GOD, no doubt in this case. Oh, what a scene, breathing of And then downstairs, holy things, was that schoolboy's room! those few who talked together as if something was going on, dreading the awe of that upstairs reality. Still under the same roof. And the schoolroom-boys were sitting silently with slates drawing, and two or three more reading, with their damp hands thrust through their hair, nervous and half frightened at what was going on upstairs, keeping the candles snuffed for fear they should be left one moment in the dark, or see a winding-sheet in the wick, and yet keeping the door open to hear what was going on, and starting every now and then at little sounds, as if expecting and dreading the moment at which the soul would go, and there would be a corpse in the house. Some went out into the yard, and stood there listening and gazing upstairs to see the little gleam of light which shot down the passage from Willie's door. A few went out half-inclined to find fault with the solemnity around them, but half impressed by it; and the servants wondered downstairs. "Poor little lamb,' said the cook, crying; 'poor little lamb. Ah, well, he's going to a better place.' "I always did think he wouldn't live, that there orphan; he was so 'cocious and quiet like,' said the housemaid. "There'll not be many as'll miss him he's a horphin, got nothin' aside a sister, poor soul-no one to follow him like, and go into black; very awkerd. I allers did think them horphins hawful things,' said the kitchen-maid, chiming in. "Poor little lamb,' said the cook again; 'well, we must all go.' "It makes one consider one's latter end,' said Mrs. Flarty, who had just joined the gathering, from sheer terror of being alone in her own room. They were there, boys and servants conversing, and terrified. And yet, what was it all about? a spirit was going to JESUS, going home. 666 Oh, dear!' said Willie, turning his head, half asleep; and he started and stared at Ella. "Willie,' said Ella, softly. The voice brought him round, and he smiled. "I thought I was gone,' said he, in a faint whisper; 'I thought I was in heaven: it was so lovely. I'm so faint and cold in the water -do wet my head, please-Dance, don't throw Ella in.' Talbot took a sponge and wetted his forehead. Willie sighed again, and fell asleep. Again he woke, and turned his eye up to Basil, and moved his lips; Come unto-' whispered he. Basil understood him, and took the Bible and read the verse Willie had so often loved in the 11th chapter of S. Matthew. He smiled while he read then came a few sobs of deep agony and hard struggling. Two it; boys glided into the passage frightened, but neither durst tell the others why; and Talbot drew instinctively away, but did not go. "Oh, he's dying,' cried little Ella, burying her face in agony. But it was only a few minutes; one dark storm on the bank of Jordan-that was all; one cold, cold wind blowing up the stream, just as he was putting his foot into it. His to-morrow' had come; he had been sanctified by the LORD' yesterday, and was ready to cross to-day. "Then came a calm so still and quiet; JESUS came, and there was a great calm,' the wind was still. The devil's last power over, he had left the house, and the unseen Figure was now standing by with the key in his hand. "Willie,' said Talbot, bending over the damp white face, which shone with the dew of the agony. "Willie smiled. "When thou passest through the valley of the shadow of death, am with thee.' "Open the window-I want to see the moon.' "It is open, Willie; I will push the curtain aside.' 666 Ah, there! I'm coming, mamma, I'm coming; don't call so often. It'll be so happy, so blessed, to be with you. Oh, I'm so tired-lift up my head-I can't see anything. Why is it so dark?' "It isn't dark, Willie.' "I'm under water.' "The Jordan, WiHie, the narrow stream, the dark short riverit will soon be over now.' "Oh, yes-I'm so cold-JESUS, JESUS, pardon me!' and there was one long moment, very long, and only breathing hard. 666 'Dark, dark, all dark, all dark,' and he turned his head on the pillow towards Ella, but did not seem to see her; 'I wish I was on the other side.' 466 You will be there presently, Willie; He passed that flood before you it is your last sorrow, your last pain,' said Basil. "Dear Basil,' said he, turning his sightless eyes towards where the voice came from. "All the clothes were off his breast, and his neck was bare to let him get breath. "It'll soon be over,' said Willie. "Parting soul! the flood awaits thee, And the billows round thee roar; Yet look on the crystal city "There are thrones and crowns of glory, He Who passed that flood before thee, "Blessed JESUS-my own mamma-coming, coming-so beautiful-so beautiful-all light-and joy-and peace—' "There was a long pause, and no one moved; no breath was heard. One hand lay on his shirt-collar, and the other in Ella's; the lips were open, and the white teeth shone through; the eyes were looking up, and a smile was on the face; the hair lay wet and dank upon the pillow. It was only a cage, the wires of an empty cage: the bird had flown, gone up to its own bright home. "But there was more than a long five minutes before they knew it. They still gazed and waited for the last breath. They waitedTalbot by his side, with his eye fixed on his face, and his hand under his chin; Ella on the bed, with her eyes fixed on his, and holding in hers the chilling hand; Basil behind his head, looking down; the boys at the door, looking at each other, frightened-frightened at the stillness. None of them seemed to know the cage was empty, the bird flown. None of them had seen death before. A cloud had been before the moon, and it suddenly moved away, and the beautiful light shone out and fell on the smiling face; and the light evening wind came in with it, and waved a few of the dark hairs, and they seemed to tell the story: they spoke; Willie is dead. Willie is up here with us, past the wind and past the moon.' "Talbot saw it first; he took his hand from his face, and closing his eyelids, said, 'So He giveth His beloved sleep.' "Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee,' said Basil, as he took Talbot's hand and pressed it in his own. Schoolboy friendship! Oh, that night! how deep, how true, how pure! 66 "He's dead,' whispered one of the boys at the door, and turned away his face, but had not the courage to go out. "Is he dead?' said another, turning his head timidly to look at the bed. It's very long before Willie, dear; do wake Wake him-won't you?' "Ella looked anxiously from face to face. he breathes, isn't it?' said she, hurriedly. and speak to your own pretty little Ella. said she hurriedly to Basil; 'do, do wake him; I want to say something to him.' "Willie has gone to heaven, dear Ella,' said Talbot, with a choking voice. Oh, call him back, call him back one minute-one, one little minute, just to say one dear little word-please do.' "You would not wish him back from heaven, Ella, would you?' "But the little girl had sunk on her brother's smiling face with one loud cry of exceeding bitter grief. "But never mind; Heaviness may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning." "--pp. 99-104. Not a few will feel interested in the character of Alley: and the fortunes of Basil, and his school-boy friend, Talbot; nor will they be surprised to learn that the former felt for Ella a deep affection which ripened into love. When Basil was no longer the unknown, but the acknowledged heir of Arundel, and became possessed of large wealth, he took Ella to be the charm of his "ain fireside," and companion for life. Here is the conclusion: : "My dearest mother, did Ella ever look so lovely as she does today?' said Basil, as he seized Mrs. Talbot's hand (for now he used to call her mother) while standing by the window of that cheerful little drawing room, in the house which Mrs. Talbot had made her home, close to Basil's park at Arundel, and Ella was sitting at the table at the end of the room writing, and Talbot standing by her side was tying flowers, while he talked to Willie's sister of days gone by. "She does, Basil, look lovely; and well she bears her sudden change of station. GOD loves to exalt the humble, and to give us the very blessing we shrink from asking or seeking. She does look lovely, and a good wife, dear Basil, I think and believe she will make you.' "Oh, it seems as if life were too bright, too happy,' said Basil, gazing from the window at his own beautiful domain, which slept beneath the moonlight. "Get rid of that feeling,' said Mrs. Talbot; or rather let it be very, very real. We must not let any thing be too bright here, GoD will not have it. And there is the reason of half life's sorrows for the good; they will think they may make this world half a home, if not wholly, and shut their eyes while they let their hand fasten the cable to the rock which is to anchor them here, as if the moral guilt were gone if we do the act with averted eye.' "Dear Mrs. Talbot, GOD teach me that lesson, and keep me every day very, very humble.' "If, Basil, you can make that your sincere prayer each day, all will be well. We must be on the pavement if we would take a bold flight heavenward; there is no bold flight for him who starts halfway the bird which flies highest is the lark, which nestles lowest in the grass." "And the words of that evening were the text of Basil's after life. "Next morning the bells broke out as I have described above, and an hour before noon, through teeming crowds of villagers and fishermen, past withered hands outstretched to bless, and aged heads bending low, up to the old grey church amid the graves of ages bygone, with the sea heaving far away, Basil led Ella to the church of Arundel. "Mrs. Talbot leaned on Edward Talbot's arm, and several of Basil's friends of schoolboy-days and the neighbourhood were there. Old Mr. Dobson had slept the night before at Arundel castle, and Pulteney performed the service. Talbot brought one friend,—it was Brooke, who had scarcely left him since the night of the shipwreck, a changed and altered character. "The service was calm and deep, and holy Communion closed it. Arundel never saw a brighter day: all were full of praise of Basil's noble bearing, and Ella's sweet and humble form, as she leaned half trembling upon her husband's arm. "On that bright day those were not forgotten who had filled up the group of life in life's young morning; God rest them now! Poor Mary, Basil's mother, at peace now: Willie, dear Willie! long gone to rest alone and Alley, noble, glorious Alley, with the figure looming out between sky and wave: and Edith, how dear to all who were gathered there! "Often in after days, Talbot, when at home from the calls of his regiment, stayed with his mother in Arundel, and they would all sit together and talk of dear old days, and humbly wait and pray for the blessed time, when in another world the scattered sheaves would be bound up again into one shock, the severed bond united, and the household of earth become once more a household in heaven."pp. 268, 269. This book will find more admirers than "Walter the Schoolmaster," for it must command the attention of many a circle of youthful readers, and we hope make its way into some of our public schools. Reviewers are generally supposed to be so ready at their art, that a free use of the paper knife, an examination of the type, and the reading of a page or two, are generally thought enough to enable them to decide upon the merits of the works they mention. Whatever may be the case in general, (for ourselves we deny the soft imputation,) we can say, we have read every page of this book, and were sorry when it was ended. Reader of mature age, do the same, and you will have the same feeling; let your children read it, and you will not regret it, for it is a book calculated to make them think. THE WARNING VOICE. CHILD of sorrow, child of sin, |
