Hers is a case requiring little medicine. Her sufferings are comparatively slight, except from exhausting fits of coughing. She appears to be passing gently away. The bright color which burned in her cheek had now faded, leaving her face perfectly colorless. The only relief to the marble whiteness was the long black lashes which lay upon her cheek when she closed her eyes. Propped up in her bed by pillows, she looked with her whole soul at the Doctor, who sat at her side, speaking to her of God's rich mercy. She assented to what he said by a slight inclination of the head, and sometimes repeated after him part of the verse of Scripture, he quoted, as if to impress it upon her own mind. But I could see plainly that she was under restraint by the presence of a stranger.
When he arose, she held out her hand and whispered, "will you please to pray with me?" Frank immediately reseated himself; and taking a little pocket Bible from his coat, read a few verses from the fourteenth chapter of John; and then prayed. I felt borne on wings of faith to heaven as my dear husband praised God for the love which had sent the Saviour into the world, that we might have pardon and eternal life; that we might be elevated to seats at his right hand in heaven, and be joint heirs with Christ to immortal glory and honor. He besought Jesus to bless and comfort with his Divine presence, the dear child who was approaching the dark valley; to give her the victory over sin, and death, and to receive her through faith in him into the kingdom of heaven, where her eternity might be spent in singing "Worthy the Lamb that was slain."
As I approached the bed to bid her farewell, I was struck dumb, with the heavenly smile of peace and joy which shone in every feature. Surely, thought I, she has the seal upon her forehead; she already breathes the air of heaven. I lifted her thin white hand to my lips, and bowed my head in silence; I dared not trust my voice to speak.
The Doctor called Mrs. Leighton aside and gave her a few simple directions before we left. He conducted me silently to the carriage, turned the horse down a shady lane toward the water, and drew me to him until I could lay my head upon his shoulder, when my excited feelings found relief in tears.
When I had become more composed, Frank asked, "Is she not to be envied?"
"Oh, yes! yes!" I replied, "Would, I could feel the assurance of faith and love, which lit up her face like that of an angel!"
He then, at my request, told me something of her history. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Leighton, are respectable, pious people, who have been deeply afflicted by the loss of two daughters and one son by the same disease which is now wasting the frame of their only surviving child. Naturally amiable and intelligent she has been too much indulged by her fond parents, who cling to her as their last and best beloved.
So insidious was her disease, that, when summoned to her sick bed, Frank found no skill could save her. He therefore endeavored to direct her to the great Physician, to cure the disease of her soul.
"What was the state of her mind at that time?" I asked.
"Very rebellious. She was unwilling to hear a word of discouragement, and talked constantly of pleasures and parties, in which her mother had allowed her to mingle. She was a very handsome girl, lively and agreeable in conversation, and had excited unusual attention for one so young."
"How soon did she become reconciled to death? She seems now to look forward to it, as the consummation of her hopes and joys."
"Not for many months; but she will give you an account of the change in her feelings. I hope you will soon see her again; she has not long to stay with us."
As we passed the house on our return, we noticed Mrs. Leighton at the door watching for us. Frank, thinking she wished to call him, sprang from the carriage. But she only put into his hand a little bouquet, saying in a suppressed voice, "Caroline," at the same time waving her hand that it was intended for me. I was very much affected at the simple gift, and sent my thanks to the sweet girl. There was exquisite taste in the selection—a moss rose bud—a white rose half blown, with dark green myrtle leaves,—and a sprig of mignonette.
"It must have been hard for her," I said, "to give up this beautiful earth, she is so fond of flowers and everything tasteful."
"Ah! but she gains heaven," was Frank's reply. This suggested to me the following lines from a favorite poet, which I repeated to my husband.
"Once when I look'd along the laughing earth,
Up the blue heavens, and through the middle air,
Joyfully ringing with the sky-lark's song,
I wept, and thought how sad for one so young,
To bid farewell to so much happiness.
But Christ doth call me from this lower world;
Delightful though it be."
We next stopped at a house of moderate size, in which the Doctor told me, four families found their home. Having tied the horse by the little gate, we entered a room on the right, where a poor man lay on a bench, or, as I afterwards saw, a long chest, upon which some quilts had been spread to make it soft. The chest was pushed to the corner of the room, so that, with pillows behind him, the invalid could sit almost upright.
Watching by his side was a very pretty woman, who, from her dialect, I perceived was Welsh. Near her was a small boy of about three years of age, sitting on a low cricket; while in a shed, opening directly out of the room, there stood a young girl of eleven, washing.
After putting two chairs near her husband, Mrs. Lewis resumed her seat and her sewing, as it was only by her industry, the family were supported.
Frank inquired particularly about the symptoms of his patient, and prescribed for his relief. He then said, "I have brought my wife, as I promised to introduce her to you." Here Mr. Lewis put out his emaciated hand, and expressed pleasure at seeing me. Frank continued, "Mrs. Lenox will come and read to you, if you wish, while your wife is busy."
The sick man regarded me with a look of gratitude, while his wife replied, "I am sure t'would be a great comfort to us both, to hear a bit of the Word. My man," she continued, "is not able to read; it makes his eyes ache badly. I have so little time, I can only repeat a verse now and then, to give us something to think of."
The Doctor asked Mr. Lewis if he had enjoyed more peace of mind since his last visit.
"Sometimes," he replied in a whisper, "I can feel willing to trust myself in the hands of God; but again all is dark, and I can't come nigh to him. He appears a great way off, and I seem to be praying into the air." As he closed, his breast heaved a deep sigh.
I became so much interested in him; and he so exactly described my own feelings, at times, that I forgot any one else was present, and said, "Oh, sir! I have often felt so; and the only way I can do, is to keep praying, until God reveals himself to me. He does hear, and he will answer if we keep asking, and if he sees we are in earnest."
I stopped suddenly, in great embarrassment, when Frank immediately added, "This is the case with most Christians. Sometimes while we are yet speaking God hears, and grants an answer of peace. Again he delays, to try our faith and patience."
"But the prayers of the wicked are an abomination," said Mr. Lewis feebly. "I can't feel sure that he has accepted me."
"Has his promise ever failed?" inquired the Doctor. "He says, 'call upon me and I will answer; knock and it shall be opened.'"
The poor man put his hand to his breast, as if in great pain. Frank feared lest we were prolonging the interview beyond his strength, and rose to leave.
"Surely you won't go without praying for me," said Mr. Lewis.
"If you feel able to attend, I will do so with pleasure," replied the Doctor. I was very much affected to see the sick man rise feebly, and kneel during prayer. He wept much, and when we arose he was so exhausted by his emotion, the Doctor and his wife were obliged to raise him to his feet. But when he had taken some drink, he became more composed, and said, "Thank you." "Come soon," he said to me, with a smile.
Mrs.