She was thinking of many things, but her thoughts were pleasant; perhaps she did not know enough of life to have them otherwise. This green grave-yard had a great attraction for her; it was full of meaning--the quaint devices, the crumbling stones, the simple monuments, the quiet beds of children, the kindly shade of aged trees; all spoke of things that had been, and that would be again; whilst the old church was to her only that part of her home, in which she had heard and learned to love those truths, now treasured in her heart, giving her present peace. oppressed with the unspeakable grief of childhood; still undesirous, also, of any foreign sympathy. Agatha began to be almost disheartened; all attempts to please her, or to win her confidence, seemed useless. With a feeling of discouragement she turned away, and at the same time, from a natural impulse, to cheer her own heart, and to fright away this unwelcome sadness, she commenced singing. Her voice was rich, full of music, and penetrating sweetness. She chose a pensive air, the very incarnation of melody, and words that reached the heart, and as she sang, lo, the little girl gradually ceased to sob, then secretly began to listen, and finally forgetting her shyness, rose unconsciously to her feet, and stood with lips apart, and countenance full of feeling, drinking in the exquisite sounds with unmingled delight. "Ah," thought the observant songstress, "have I really discovered a way to gain her friendship? Has music, then, such charms for the ear of the blind?" The victory was unexpected, but it soon became complete. Only a little care, and a little management, were requisite to accomplish the desired end, and very soon Agatha took her willing hand, and was led away to the widow's cottage. The poor woman, greatly pleased to receive such a visitor, was as communicative as her child had been reserved. Her short story was soon told. Leila had never seen the But who was the little stranger that came with uncertain steps, feeling her way from grave to grave, and holding in one little delicate hand, a rude basket of wild flowers? One that Agatha had never seen; a child apparently about eleven years old, and blind. She came very near her, to a freshly-made mound, and sank upon it, overcome with the deepest grief. Agatha remembered that a poor laborer had recently been buried there, but neither himself nor family were personally known to her. The hardest heart might have been moved by this exhibition of sorrow, and hers warmed towards this little afflicted one in an instant, and she approached her with every manifestation of kindness. The child, however, only burst into fresh tears, resisting every attempt at conversation, by a silence persevering and almost sullen. Agatha was a favorite with all, and she could not comprehend this treatment from one so young but presently remembering her blindness, she considered it might be a cause for any peculiarity, and readily excused the child, whilst, retiring to a distance, she left her to herself, and watched her as she co-volume, and taught her many a psalm and vered the grave with her offering, and ten- hymn as food for her little mind to feed upon. derly kissed the earth before going away. Sometimes he persuaded her to go to church, Agatha hastened home to tell her mother where the music always pleased her, and then what she had seen, and to ask her if there he would, as well as he was able, often sing was nothing she could do for the little girl. to her of the better land, to while away her Mrs. de Sylva suggested that she should ob-weary hours. She was diffident and sensiserve if the child came again, and if possible tive to a painful degree, always escaped from accompany her home, and learn all that con-notice if a stranger called, and even ran cerned her from her mother. In the course of a few days a similar incident again occurred; again came the little sorrower; again laden with wild flowers, and light of the sun, but to her the peculiar tendernesss of her father had, until now, ever amply taken its place. At all practicable times she had been his companion-he had taken her with him to his daily tasks, read to her, and told her tales at night from the sacred away from their good old pastor, who as yet scarcely knew her. Thus it was, that when her father died, this blighted and delicate flower had drooped and fallen to the earth. 66 Every word of this simple history entered (ed to send this poor sad child to the Asylum into Agatha's inmost heart: she could not be for the Blind; there her taste for music might said exactly to think; for certain purposes do be cultivated and perfected, and she could be come uncalled for, or are as gifts, written taught many kinds of employment, and perupon the soul with rays of unearthly light. haps, sir, yet I hardly dare to say it, perhaps At a glance she seemed to behold not only in time she might return capable of taking the past, and the present, but the future of my place at the organ, and of conducting the this unfortunate, bereaved, unhappy child. music of our Church, for which she could reHad she not ever delighted in sweet sounds?ceive such an equivalent as would answer for Did not music win the way just now to her her support." friendship? And, bidding the poor woman This was one of those beautiful devices, and Leila a kind farewell, Agatha, by a sud- those heaven-born wishes, that sometimes enden impulse, sped off in the direction of the ter the mind of the willing. Agatha blushed, Parsonage. Here, indeed, she was no and felt herself almost presumptuous, both in stranger; beloved alike by the clergyman her discovery and in her proposal, and thought, and his family, and ready to assist in every perhaps my father will reprove my haste." work of kindness which they might originate, But he was long silent, and only sighed and she often raised the latch to be welcomed by wiped away a tear. At last he said: "How all, but chiefly by one who had been to her as is it I have not attended to this child? I a true father from childhood. This good old should not be ignorant if the smallest lamb is man was walking in his garden, enjoying the troubled. My daughter, we will speak to pleasant evening air. His hair was white your mother, and if I mistake not, without and flowing, his form was slightly bent; his further reflection, you have suggested the expression was sad, benignant, and pure. To kindest and best thing that could be done; I one object had his long and active life been shall give immediate attention to the subject; devoted; one purpose had given him undy-meanwhile, wait for me to act." So Agatha ing energy. Thus, when he turned his large returned home, to relate what had passed, and expressive eye upon you, in spite of yourself to receive her mother's blessing, falling upon you partook of his thoughtfulness, his solem-her happy heart like dew on fairest flowers. nity, and remembered that there are some persons who view all things in the light of eternity. Old Mr. Edwards was at home in every part of his parish. He had lived in it for forty years, revered and loved by all. He had made himself truly the shepherd and the pastor of every household. He was humble, he was affectionate, he was earnest. He spoke only in the name of the Lord of the Harvest. If he did not always say with his lips, "Peace be to this house, and to all that dwell in it," he left something of that influence when he went away. With regard to Leila, he gave her case immediate care, and went from one abode to another, laying her history before his people. He blamed himself for his oversight hitherto; but, reader, we can see that it was an oversight permitted by Providence, that all might afterwards act together as one family in so pure a labor of love. Agatha came up to him, all out of breath in her haste and earnestness: "Oh, my dear father," she exclaimed, "I have something to tell you, something you do not know of; there is a little blind girl among us that is very unhappy; she has lost her father, and she goes often to his grave and weeps there, and strews flowers, and I did not know there was such a child in our parish." And here she was glad to stop. Mr. Edwards smiled at her animation, and led her kindly to a seat. "Now, my little one," said he, for this was here her title, although just sixteen," tell me all quietly, and be very exact." So all was told with sweet confidence, and Agatha said at last: "I have thought of something, but perhaps it is not a Mr. Edwards suggested Agatha's plan; he good thought or wise, yet I must tell you; I placed it in the light of a favor to her and to wish we might all unite and give what is need-themselves—not as an act of condescension to the poor girl; far from that. She was ful, and quiet, she had long since ceased to be one of the KING'S MESSENGERS, to whom miserable. Life was no burden, because it they might eagerly give great welcome; but had an object, and the wise following of nahe reminded them that every opportunity of ture's bent gave constant pleasure. Occupausefulness was a favor from heaven, demand- tion made her cheerful and independent, puting their gratitude and improvement. The ting it in her power to assist her mother, to good man never asked uselessly, and there- whom she was truly dutiful and affectionate, fore he seldom spoke in vain. Having ever whilst love and gratitude for Agatha, the imencouraged economy and thrift, as well as personation in her thoughts of all lovely quagenerosity and bounty, his recommendations lities, employed and satisfied the peculiar senreceived the more respect. Many kind heartstiments of her nature. In her hopeless blindsympathized with the little mourner, all gave ness, forbidden the sight of all wonderful and liberally according to their means, and in a exquisite things, she was still happy and at short period the adequate sum was raised to peace, for the interior light had illumined her ? soul with a radiance better than the sunshine. Love from all she had received; love to all she gave. Thus softly and silently moving to the measure of unearthly music, her days glided away unto their close. situate her in the desired haven. Agatha, whose influence daily increased, persuaded the widow to consent to part with her child, and the child to leave her home. She remembered her by letter, by token, by occasional visits; and after a lapse of years, welcomed her home again, and gave her, with much of youthful enthusiasm, her longexpected place. And when Leila's delicate fingers swept the keys, and awoke the religious sounds, Agatha, looking back upon the scene in the church-yard, where the child had gone to gather flowers, and to offer them so pure an offering, wept a flood of grateful tears, in the fullness of her deep satisfaction. Education had done much for Leila, but it had not dispersed the original elements of her character. The memory of her father was as a sort of living presence, or realizing remembrance, that abode with her in her daily life, like the vital air, and led her thoughts upward to that best Father, with whom she believed him to be. Always reserved, thought Reader, you and I have been often sad, often unhappy. But hereafter, at such times, let us go out like Agatha, and look for the little children who have heavy hearts. Let us seek to discover their characters, their tastes, their peculiar talent; let us lift up the hands that hang down, and put employment within them, speaking words of gentle encouragement. Nay, let us strive to raise our voices and sing cheerily in the cottage of the widow and the fatherless. Perhaps the wellmeant sounds will reach some aching breast, pouring in oil and wine, and perhaps such occupations will make us more and more in love with pure religion, and help to keep us unspotted from the evil of this present world in which we now dwell. S. THE MOTHER'S HAND.-A pious mother, less and passionate paroxysms, something in her prayers with her little son, was accus-seemed partially to restrain and rule him. tomed to lay her hand upon his head. She He said it was a hand upon his head, like his died while he was yet too young to realize mother's hand. In his old age he said, " If the loss which he had sustained. He grew I am ever saved, it will be by that mother's up a wayward boy. Yet, in his most reck-hand, and my Redeemer's mercy." 66 A TRIP TO THE WEST. LETTER III. Arrival at Fort Wayne-its Church-the beneficial effects of our Missionary operations there-journey across the country-Niles-its Church-New Buffalo-Michigan CityChicago-its Churches-the Swedish congregation-donation of Jenny Lind—the condition and prospects of the place-Lake Michigan-its cultivated shores-Waukegan-Kenosha-Racine-arrival at Milwaukie-the appearance and prosperity of the place-the history of the Church there-its rectors. jow certain it is, dear Mr. Editor, that many of the things most dreaded in anticipation, are regarded with pleasant recollections when they have transpired. It was with extreme reluctance that I travelled on the canal from Toledo, and yet there are few parts of my journey respecting which I have more agreeable reminiscences than that on "The Bride." (continued one of its active members up to the time of his removal to the West. His zeal for the good cause is unabated. It has led him to be one of a few to purchase the ground and build a temporary edifice for the Church in his present place of residence, and to contribute in various other ways to its prosperity. He is privileged to see the building enlarged, and neatly and suitably adorned, even to the extent of introducing stained glass into the window above the altar, and in two others in the newly-added transepts. The congregation is now under the pastoral care of the Rev. Leaving the boat at Fort Wayne, I was J. S. Large, who has succeeded singularly soon quartered at the Hedekin House. But well in securing both the respect and attachlittle time elapsed before I presented a letterment of his people. The Church is repreof introduction to a gentleman of the place, sented as being full on ordinary occasions of whose aid I required in transacting the busi-public worship. It will contain about 250 or ness which took me there. My reception by 300 persons. It was stormy the Sunday I him was as warm as if he had known me from spent in the place, and but comparatively few my youth. He is a thorough Churchman, and could assemble. Fort Wayne is on our list that, I suppose, accounts for the ardor of our of Missionary stations; every dollar which very first interview. He had been reared in our Domestic Committee have appropriated other religious views than those which he now to it, has been well expended. The Church loves and supports; but some years since, a there must be a centre of influence for surchange was effected through the instrumen-rounding regions. In its turn it will foster tality of a book lent him by the very gentle- neighboring stations, and so recompense us of man whose letter served to make us acquaint- the East for the care and means we have beed. The book is, Law's Letters to the Bishopstowed upon it. The place contains about of Bangor. When convinced of the nature 5,000 inhabitants, and is one of the most and character of the Church, and that in this flourishing towns in the State of Indiana. I country she is entrusted to those whom bewas ill while there, and am much indebted for fore he had known only as Episcopalians, he my recovery to the kind attentions of Mr. connected himself with the mission congre- Large, and his excellent family physician. gation of the Epiphany in New-York, and Having completed my business, I prepared to depart for Niles, on the Michigan Central third meal of the day, at 12 o'clock at night. I waited upon the upper deck long enough to view Michigan city by moonlight; for the place was interesting to me, as the point where my valued friend, the Rev. D. V. M. Johnson, now the exceedingly useful Missionary for the seamen in the port of New-York, began his Missionary labors. Like most of the places on the lakes, it is seen at a disadvantage from the water. It is relatively an important place and commands much business. It is destined to increase rapidly. Thanks, under God, to our Domestic Missionary Committee, and the excellent ministers with which it has been favored, the Church is firmly established there. Early in the morning we were at Chicago. At Niles, in consequence of a miscalcula- After a hasty breakfast at the Sherman tion of time, I was obliged to remain a day. House-a hotel which does not lose by comIt gave me an opportunity to view the very parison with the more gorgeous ones we have pretty village, and to note the plain and neat at the East-I called upon the Rev. Mr. church edifice which, without expecting ever Swope, rector of Trinity Church. To his to see it, some years ago I contributed to polite attention I was indebted for interviews erect. There was, at the time of my visit, a with the Rev. Mr. Clarkson, rector of St. vacancy in the rectorship of the church. James's Church, and the Rev. Mr. Unonius, The president of the village, who is also a rector of the Church sustained by the Swedes leading member of the church, did me the and Norwegians of Chicago, and for a pleahonor to call at the hotel and proffer such sant visit to all three of the churches. St. kind attentions as it is always pleasant for the James's, the oldest of these, was undergoing stranger to receive. Niles, like Fort Wayne, extensive alterations intended to make it has been favored with much of our Mission- truly Gothic. When I saw it, nothing was ary bounty; the outlay, however, has not left but the walls. I was satisfied, however, been quite as productive of good results. A from what I gathered respecting the contemfrequent change of ministers has been a dis- plated improvements, that the sound and enadvantage. The Rev. Hiram Adams, late of terprising rector and his people were enthe diocese of New-York, has recently gone gaged in a good and profitable work. Trinity to the place, and it is hoped his valuable ser- Church is a plain and unpretending edifice, vices and thorough experience may long be with, however, a large and influential condevoted to it. gregation. It is the offspring of the untiring From Niles to New-Buffalo, on Lake Mich-zeal and perseverance of the Rev. Wm. F. igan, the distance is but 27 miles. It was Walker, and is a good evidence that in Chiquickly travelled over in a car of the Michi-cago he did not "labor in vain." Since he gan Central Rail-Road. As New-Buffalo has in it but a very few buildings, and they are of a forbidding character, and as, indeed, nothing but its being on the shore of the Lake, and at a termination of the Rail-Road, imparts to it any importance, I shall say of it only that here, of the passengers in the train, some took the steam-boat which was to convey them across to Chicago, and others, the one which was to pass down the Lake. In the former of these I had the comfort of taking the resigned the charge of it a singular perversion has been allowed. The organ has been introduced into the chancel to make more room at the lower end of the church. I forbear to comment on this monstrous token of the recklessness of human expediency, lest I should indulge in expressions which might by some be deemed too strong. I must, however, do the present rector the justice to say, that he has the right feeling on the subject, and means properly to effect a change. |