Words of Cheer for the Tempted, the Toiling, and the Sorrowing

jesos - T. S. (Timothy Shay) Arthur

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Publié par	jesos
Publié le	08 décembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	52
Langue	English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Words of Cheer for the Tempted, the
Toiling, and the Sorrowing, by T. S. Arthur
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: Words of Cheer for the Tempted, the Toiling, and the Sorrowing
Author: T. S. Arthur
Posting Date: August 30, 2009 [EBook #4619]
Release Date: November, 2003
First Posted: February 20, 2002
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORDS OF CHEER ***
Produced by Charles Aldarondo. HTML version by Al Haines.
WORDS OF CHEER FOR The
Tempted,
the Toiling, and the Sorrowing.
EDITED BY T. S. ARTHUR.
PHILADELPHIA
1856.
PREFACE.AS we pass on our way through the world, we find our paths now smooth and
flowery, and now rugged and difficult to travel. The sky, bathed in golden sunshine to-
day, is black with storms to-morrow! This is the history of every one. And it is also the
life-experience of all, that when the way is rough and the sky dark, the poor heart sinks
and trembles, and the eye of faith cannot see the bright sun smiling in the heavens
beyond the veil of clouds. But, for all this fear and doubt, the rugged path winds steadily
upwards, and the broad sky is glittering in light.
Let the toiling, the tempted, and the sorrowing ever keep this in mind. Let them have
faith in Him who feedeth the young lions, and clothes the fields with verdure—who
bindeth up the broken heart, and giveth joy to the mourners. There are Words of Cheer
in the air! Listen! and their melody will bring peace to the spirit, and their truths strength
to the heart.
CONTENTS.
AUNT MARY
THE DEAD
DO YOU SUFFER MORE THAN YOUR NEIGHBOUR?
WE ARE LED BY A WAY THAT WE KNOW NOT
THE IVY IN THE DUNGEON
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
HAVE A FLOWER IN YOUR ROOM
WEALTH
HOW TO BE HAPPY
REBECCA
LIFE A TREADMILL
ARTHUR LELAND
THE SCARLET POPPY
NUMBER TWELVE
TO AN ABSENTEE
THE WHITE DOVE
HESTER
THISTLE-DOWN
THE LITTLE CHILDREN
WHAT IS NOBLE?
THE ANEMONE HEPATICA
THE FAMILY OF MICHAEL AROUT
BABY IS DEAD
THE TREASURED RINGLET
HUMAN LONGINGS FOR PEACE AND REST
"BE STRONG"
THE NEGLECTED ONE
THE HOURS OF LIFE
MINISTERING ANGELS
OURS, LOVED, AND "GONE BEFORE"
OUTWARD MINISTERINGS
BODILY DEFORMITY, SPIRITUAL BEAUTY
THE DEAD CHILD
WATER
BEAUTIFUL, HAPPY, AND BELOVED
"EVERY CLOUD HAS A SILVER LINING"AN ANGEL OF PATIENCE
THE GRANDFATHER'S ADVICE
A HYMN OF PRAISE
AN ANGEL IN EVERY HOUSE
ANNIE
MOTHER
GREAT PRINCIPLES AND SMALL DUTIES
"OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN"
THE OLD VILLAGE CHURCH
"THE WORD IS NIGH THEE"
AUNT RACHEL
COMETH A BLESSING DOWN
THE DARKENED PATHWAY
LOOK ON THIS PICTURE
THE POWER OF KINDNESS
SPEAK KINDLY
HAVE PATIENCE
DO THEY MISS ME?
WORDS OF CHEER.
AUNT MARY.
A LADY sat alone in her own apartment one clear evening, when the silver stars
were out, and the moon shone pure as the spirit of peace upon the rebellious earth. How
lovely was every outward thing! How beautiful is God's creation! The window curtains
were drawn close, and the only light in the cheerful room, was given by a night-lamp
that was burning on the mantel-piece. The occupant, who perhaps had numbered about
thirty-five years, was sitting by a small table in the centre of the room, her head leaning
upon one slender hand; the other lay upon the open page of a book in which she had
endeavoured to interest herself. But the effort had been vain; other and stronger feelings
had overpowered her; there was an expression of suffering upon the gentle face, over
which the tears rained heavily. For a brief moment she raised her soft blue eyes upward
with an appealing look, then sunk her head upon the table before her, murmuring,
"Father! forgive me! it is good for me. Give me strength to bear everything. Pour thy
love into my heart, for I am desolate—if I could but be useful to one human being—if I
could make one person happier, I should be content. But no! I am desolate—desolate.
Whose heart clings to mine with the strong tendrils of affection? Who ever turns to me
for a smile? Oh! this world is so cold—so cold!"
And that sensitive being wept passionately, and pressed her hand upon her bosom as
if to still its own yearnings.
Mary Clinton had met with many sorrows; she was the youngest of a large family;
she had been the caressed darling in her early days, for her sweetness won every heart to
love. She had dwelt in the warm breath of affection, it was her usual sunshine, and she
gave it no thought while it blessed her; a cold word or look was an unfamiliar thing. A
most glad-hearted being she was once! But death came in a terrible form, folded herloved ones in his icy arms and bore them to another world. A kind father, a tender
mother, a brother and sister, were laid in the grave, in one short month, by the cholera.
One brother was yet left, and she was taken to his home, for he was a wealthy merchant.
But there seemed a coldness in his splendid house, a coldness in his wife's heart. Sick in
body and in mind, the bereft one resolved to travel South, and visit among her relations,
hoping to awaken her interest in life, which had lain dormant through grief. She went to
that sunny region, and while there, became acquainted with a man of fine intellect and
fascinating manners, who won her affections, and afterwards proved unworthy of her.
Again the beauty of her life was darkened, and with a weary heart she wore out the
tedious years of her joyless existence. She was an angel of charity to the poor and
suffering. She grew lovelier through sorrow. A desire to see her brother, her nearest and
dearest relative, called her North again, and when our story opens she was in the bosom
of his home, a member of his family. He loved her deeply, yet she felt like an alien—his
wife had not welcomed her as a sister should. Mary Clinton's heart went out toward's
Alice, her eldest niece, a beautiful and loving creature just springing into womanhood.
But the fair girl was gay and thoughtless, flattered and caressed by everybody. She knew
sadness only by the name. She had no dream that she could impart a deep joy, by giving
forth her young heart's love to the desolate stranger.
The hour had grown late, very late, and Mary Clinton still leaned her head upon the
table buried in thoughts, when the bounding step of Alice outside the door aroused her
from her revery. She listened, almost hoping to see her friendly face peeping in, but
wearied with the enjoyment of the evening, the fair young belle hastened on to her
chamber, and her aunt heard the door close. Rising from her seat at the table, Miss
Clinton approached a window, and threw back the curtains that the midnight air might
steal coolingly over her brow. Her eye fell upon the rich bracelet that clasped her arm, a
gift of her brother, and then with a sad smile, she surveyed the pure dress of delicate
white she wore. "Ah!" she sighed, "I am robed for a scene of gayety, but how sad the
heart that beats beneath this boddice! How glad I was to escape from the company;
loneliness in the crowd is so sad a feeling." At that moment the door of her room
opened, and Alice came laughing in, her glowing face all bright and careless.
"Oh! Aunt Mary," she exclaimed, "do help me! I cannot unclasp my necklace, and
my patience has all oozed out at the tips of my fingers. There! you have unfastened it
already. Well! I believe I never will be good for anything!" And Alice laughed as
heartily, as if the idea was charming. "When did you leave the parlours, Aunt Mary? I
never missed you at all. Father said you left early, when I met him just now on the
stairs."
"I did leave early," replied Miss Clinton. "I chanced to feel like being entirely alone,
so I sought my own apartment."
"Have you been reading, aunt? I should think you would feel lonely!"
"I read very little," was the reply, in a sad tone. No remark was made on her
loneliness.
"It seems so strange to me, Aunt Mary, that you are so fond of being alone. I like
company so much," said Alice, looking in her quiet face. "But I must go," she added;
she paused a moment, then pressed an affectionate kiss upon her aunt's cheek, and
whispered a soft "good night." Miss Clinton cast both arms around her, and drew her to
her heart, with an eagerness that surprised Alice. Twice she kissed her, then hastily
released her as if her feeling had gone forth before she was aware of it. Alice stood still
before her a moment, and her careless eyes took a deeply searching expression as they
dwelt upon the countenance before her. Something like sadness passed over her face,
and her voice was deeper in its tone, as she repeated, "Good night, dear Aunt Mary!"
With a slow step she left the apartment, mentally contrasting her own position with thatof her aunt. Circumstances around her and the society with which she mingled, tended to
drow