{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_58693/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_58693","id":"gutenberg_58693","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58693","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories","Christian life -- Juvenile fiction","Conversion -- Christianity -- Juvenile fiction","India -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Produced by Richard Hulse and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA WREATH OF INDIAN STORIES.\n\n\n\n\n                                A WREATH\n                                   OF\n                             INDIAN STORIES.\n\n                                  _By\n                              A. L. O. E.,\n                    HONORARY MISSIONARY AT AMRITSAR,\n     Author of \u201cThe Young Pilgrim,\u201d \u201cRescued from Egypt,\u201d &c., &c._\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                  T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;\n                        EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\nPreface.\n\n\nThe following stories have been written by A. L. O. E. since her arrival\nin India, for the use of native readers. It is deemed most desirable by\nthose who thoroughly know the people, that their minds should be trained\nin the first principles of morality, as well as of religion, by means of\namusing fictions, as they are particularly fond of stories. A. L. O. E.\ndesires, therefore, to devote her pen to the service of the land of her\nadoption, as there are, comparatively speaking, hardly any writers who\nenjoy the advantage of having the peculiar habits and failings of Hindus,\nMohammedans, Sikhs, and native converts, perpetually brought before their\nnotice, as is, or should be, the case with a member of a missionary band.\n\nIf her little \u201cIndian Stories\u201d be acceptable in her dear native land, she\nwill be thankful; but the object which she chiefly aims at is to write\nin a way to amuse, and through amusement to instruct, the people of the\ncountry of her adoption.\n\nAs stories placed in the hands of Oriental readers would be comparatively\nuseless unless written in an Oriental style, and describing scenes\nand customs familiar to natives, A. L. O. E. has tried to adopt such\na style, and depict such scenes. When she reviewed her work, with the\nmental question, \u201cWhat would be thought of this in England?\u201d she felt\nhow fanciful and affected her writings might appear to European readers,\nand almost gave up all idea of sending them home. And yet, as quaint\nand often grotesque ornaments brought from the East are not despised in\nBritain because they are unlike our own manufactures, but are sometimes\neven prized for their very quaintness, it is possible that a few of\nA. L. O. E.\u2019s Oriental stories may not be unacceptable in her native\nland. They may even serve to awaken a little interest in a vast country\nlike India, where a Native Church is struggling against surrounding\nevil influences,\u2014a Church as yet small compared with the myriads of its\nopponents, yet gaining strength year by year. That infant Church needs\ntender care and indulgence from those who have been brought up in a land\nbathed in the light of Christianity,\u2014a land where children are taught\nalmost from the cradle the value of honesty and truth, and where little\nis known of the fearful difficulties and trials which beset converts to\nthe pure faith of the gospel.\n\n\n\n\nContents.\n\n\n       I. THE RADIANT ROBE,                                9\n\n      II. THE CHURCH WHICH GREW OUT OF ONE BRICK,         28\n\n     III. THE PUGREE WITH A BORDER OF GOLD,               58\n\n      IV. THE PINK CHADDAR,                               76\n\n       V. THE STORY OF THREE JEWELS,                      91\n\n      VI. JEWELS FOUND,                                  112\n\n     VII. THE BROKEN FENCE,                              133\n\n    VIII. SHINING IN THE DARK,                           150\n\n      IX. THE PAPER PARABLE,                             165\n\n       X. THE OLDEST LANGUAGE UPON EARTH,                170\n\n      XI. STORIES ON THE TEN COMMANDMENTS:\u2014\n\n            1. The Broken Bridge,                        175\n\n            2. The Burning Hut,                          179\n\n            3. The Marks on the Sand,                    182\n\n            4. The Beautiful Garden,                     185\n\n            5. The Blind Mother,                         189\n\n            6. A Dangerous Village,                      192\n\n            7. The Beautiful Pardah,                     196\n\n            8. The Bearer\u2019s Dream,                       201\n\n            9. The Cracked Scent-Bottle,                 204\n\n           10. The Fall, the Cheetah, and the Cup,       208\n\n\n\n\nA WREATH OF INDIAN STORIES.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nThe Radiant Robe.\n\n\nFagir, the government clerk, sat in his house, when the work of the\nday was over. He had partaken of his evening meal; he had smoked his\nhookah;[1] his bodily frame was at ease, but his mind was working with\nmany thoughts. His wife was beside him\u2014Kasiti, the gentle and obedient.\nKasiti had long ago embraced the gospel and become a Christian in heart,\nbut many months had passed before her husband had suffered her to be\nbaptized. He had chidden her, and she had not answered again; he had been\nharsh, and she had been loving. Kasiti[2] had made her faith appear\nbeautiful by her life, and her patience had at length won the victory.\nFagir had not only consented to his wife\u2019s baptism, but he had read her\nBible; he had searched its pages diligently, comparing the Old Testament\nwith the New. And now Fagir\u2019s intellect was convinced of the truth of\nChristianity; light dawned upon his soul, but it was as light without\nwarmth. Fagir believed in Christ as the Messiah, but refused still to\nreceive Him as a Sacrifice for sin.\n\n\u201cSuch a sacrifice is not needed; at least, for those who walk uprightly\nand in the fear of God,\u201d said Fagir to Kasiti, who was seated at his\nfeet, with a Bible on her knees. \u201cIt would be mockery for such as I am\nto repeat what the Christians are taught to say\u2014\u2018God be merciful to me,\na sinner.\u2019 I, at least, am no sinner, but a just and upright man, even\njudged by the laws contained in that Bible. I can hold my head erect\nbefore God and man; for I serve God with fasting and prayer, and man have\nI never wronged, but have bestowed large alms on the poor.\u201d\n\nIt was not for Kasiti to reply; she read to herself in silence; but the\nthought of her heart was, \u201cHad not Christ died for sinners, there would\nhave been no heaven for me.\u201d\n\nThe evening was hot; the motion of the gently-moving punkah[3] disposed\nFagir to sleep. His eyes gradually closed, and slumber stole over him\nwhere he sat, reclining on soft cushions. And as the weary man slept he\ndreamed, and his dream was as vivid as the realities of daily life could\nbe.\n\nBehold in his dream a beautiful angel appeared unto Fagir. A crown of\nlight was on the head of the messenger of Heaven; glory was as a mantle\naround him, and when he shook his silvery wings a shower of stars seemed\nto fall upon earth. Fagir trembled at the sight of the pure and holy\nbeing who floated in the air before him without touching the ground with\nhis shining feet.\n\n\u201cO Fagir, thou art bidden to the banquet of Paradise!\u201d said the angel;\nand his voice was as music at night. \u201cReceive this white robe, in which,\nif it retain its whiteness, thou mayst be meet to appear in the presence\nof the great King. But beware of sin; for every sin shall be as a stain\non thy robe. Keep it white for but _one day_, and all the joys of\nParadise shall be thine eternal reward.\u201d\n\nAs the angel spake, he cast round the form of Fagir a radiant robe, white\nas the snow on the mountains. Then the angel touched the broad border of\nthe robe, and on the border appeared in letters of gold, _Fear God, and\nkeep his commandments_ (Eccles. xii. 13). Fagir gazed in wonder on the\ninscription; but even as he gazed it faded away. He turned to look on the\nangel, but behold! the bright messenger had vanished. Nothing remained\nbut the pure white robe, which Fagir still wore in his dream.\n\nThen the soul of Fagir was filled with hope and triumph. \u201cI have kept\nthe commandments from my youth!\u201d he exclaimed; \u201cand shall I break them\nnow, when my reward is so near at hand? Only one day of trial, and then\nI shall be walking in my radiant robe in the garden of celestial beauty,\nand have for companions such beings as the bright angel who left heaven\nto bear a message to me, the upright and the pious.\u201d\n\nThen there came a change in the dream of Fagir: he deemed that he had\nrisen, as was his wont, at sunrise, to go forth to the business of the\nday. His thoughts were not now on Paradise, nor on the message borne by\nthe holy one; but still he wore the mysterious robe which the angel had\nthrown around him.\n\nAnd on what were the thoughts of Fagir intent as he took his early meal\nbefore starting for the cutcherry, in which, as a government official,\nhe worked day after day? It might have been supposed that one so pious\nwould have reflected on holy things, when the first rays of the morning\nsun bade him thank God for sleep and protection during the hours of\ndarkness. But no; the thoughts of Fagir were all on his worldly gains.\nHe had for years set his heart on buying a piece of land which belonged\nto a neighbour of the name of Pir Bakhsh, feeling certain that he could\nderive much profit from its possession; but Pir Bakhsh had always refused\nto sell the ground. But Fagir thought in his dream that Pir Bakhsh had\nsuddenly died in the night; his heir was only a child, and Fagir rejoiced\nin the hope that the land would now be sold, as the estate was encumbered\nwith debt.\n\n\u201cThe piece of ground is worth four hundred rupees[4] at least,\u201d Fagir\nsaid to himself, \u201cand I shall manage now to buy it for two hundred\nrupees. I shall then contrive to make the Magistrate Sahib purchase it\nfor a garden, as it lies so close to his bungalow;[5] and a goodly sum he\nshall pay! I am a less sharp fellow than I take myself to be, if, before\nthe year is over, my two hundred rupees have not swelled into seven\nhundred rupees at the least.\u201d\n\nFagir laughed to himself at the double profit which he would make, first\nas purchaser, then as seller. But his mirth suddenly ceased when his\nglance chanced to fall on his mysterious robe.\n\n\u201cI thought that this garment was whiter than milk!\u201d he exclaimed; \u201cwhence\ncomes, then, this dull gray tint upon it?\u201d The answer to his question\ncame in an inscription which for a moment, and only a moment, appeared on\nthe border,\u2014_The love of money is the root of all evil_ (1 Tim. vi. 10).\n\nFagir felt pained and surprised; he had often heard the Christian\npadre[6] say that the religion of the Lord Jesus reached even to the\nthoughts and desires of the heart, but he had never till this time\nclearly perceived that covetousness is sin in itself, even if it lead to\nno open violation of the laws of God or of man. As if hoping by prayer to\nrestore his robe to its former whiteness, Fagir now prostrated himself\non his carpet, and repeated a long form of prayer. His lips moved, and a\nmurmuring sound of prayer was heard; but even while he seemed to offer\nsupplication and praise, the mind of Fagir was still fixed on the coveted\nfield: he was thinking how he should persuade the orphan\u2019s relatives\nthat the ground was of little value, and how he should make the Sahib[7]\nregard it as worth at least seven hundred rupees. Every time that Fagir\nrepeated the name of God\u2014and very often did he utter the holy word in his\nprayer\u2014there fell, as it were, an ink-drop upon the garment given by the\nangel. Suddenly Fagir perceived this, and started up from his knees.\n\n\u201cCan I sin even in the act of prayer?\u201d Fagir exclaimed in dismay.\n\nThen for an instant appeared on the border of the robe the words uttered\nby the Almighty Himself, amidst thunder and lightning, on Sinai,\u2014_Thou\nshalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will\nnot hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain_ (Ex. xx. 7).\n\n\u201cI will think no more on this robe,\u201d said Fagir, with bitterness; \u201cif my\nthoughts be tainted with imperfection, my acts at least are blameless. It\nis enough if a man live righteously; he is not master of his own heart.\u201d\nHere was at least an admission, and that from one of the proudest of\nmen, that the heart has a root of bitterness in it that even the most\nrighteous of mortals have no power in themselves to root up.\n\nAnd now in the dream of Fagir it came to pass that, as he was about to\nquit his dwelling, a messenger arrived with a chit from Delhi. Fagir\nopened and read it, and then, turning towards his wife, he thus spake:\u2014\n\n\u201cKasiti, this note brings good tidings. Hosein, the head of my family,\nis coming from Delhi, and will abide for ten days in this city. We must\nreceive him with great honour, for Hosein is a wealthy and distinguished\nman, much esteemed in the place where he dwells. There must be plentiful\nfeasting here during the days of his sojourn; I will throw my doors\nwide open, and invite hundreds of persons from far and near to meet my\nkinsman.\u201d\n\nKasiti mildly made reply,\u2014\u201cOh! my lord, your salary is but one hundred\nand fifty rupees; whence, then, will you spread the table for hundreds of\nguests?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will borrow what I need,\u201d said Fagir.\n\n\u201cOh! my lord,\u201d said the gentle Kasiti, \u201cthe padre hath said in my\nhearing, that debt is as a chain, with which no servant of God should\never be bound.\u201d\n\n\u201cA woman\u2019s best eloquence is silence!\u201d exclaimed Fagir with impatience.\n\u201cBring me the pen and ink; I at once will write to the money-lender for\ntwo hundred and fifty rupees; he will send the sum without delay, for he\nknows that I am in government employ.\u201d\n\nAs Fagir stretched forth his hand for the pen, his glance fell on the\nborder of his stained garment, and he read the words on it,\u2014_Owe no man\nanything, but to love one another_ (Rom. xiii. 8).\n\nIt seemed as if Kasiti also had read the inscription, for she ventured\nagain to speak. \u201cWere it not well to welcome my lord\u2019s kinsman with due\nhonour,\u201d she said, \u201cbut with less of expense and show? We have enough to\nenable us to show him hospitality, not for ten days only, but for thrice\nten, if your guest be content to live as we live.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf Hosein should be content with so mean a reception, _I_ should not be\ncontent!\u201d exclaimed Fagir, his voice rising in wrath. \u201cWhat! shall he who\nis the head of ten villages come for the first time under my roof, and\nfind me living like a beggar? Wouldst thou have me to be dishonoured in\nhis eyes, O thou ignorant and foolish woman? No! Hosein shall return to\nDelhi and report to all his neighbours that wealth and honour, much gold\nand many friends, are the portion of his relative Fagir!\u201d\n\nIt was then as if a dust-storm had swept over the robe of Fagir: it\ndarkened even as he spake; and black on the edge of the garment he beheld\nthe inscription,\u2014_Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit\nbefore a fall_ (Prov. xvi. 18).\n\nVexed with himself, and all the more so because he saw tears in the eyes\nof Kasiti, Fagir quitted his dwelling to go, as usual, to his work at the\ncutcherry. The words of his wife, though slighted, rested on Fagir\u2019s\nmemory still: \u201cDebt is a chain with which no servant of God should ever\nbe bound.\u201d It was a thing forbidden in the Bible! Fagir knew that there\nwas no necessity for him to incur debt; it was pride alone, and thirst\nfor the praise of men, which made him submit to be bound like a slave\nwith the chain of debt.\n\n\u201cI shall soon cast it from me,\u201d said Fagir to himself, as he went on his\nway. \u201cIf I manage skilfully, perhaps I may get that piece of land for\neven less than two hundred rupees, for the friends of that child know no\nmore of business than I do of weaving shawls. But I must make my bargain\nquickly, or Mahmud, the man who ever crosses my path like a snake, will\nbe purchasing the land himself; I know that he has for some time had his\neye upon it. He is a grasping, unscrupulous fellow, and his presence to\nme is as the simoom to the traveller in the desert. But lo! do I not\nbehold him coming towards me!\u201d\n\nYes, it was Mahmud himself whom Fagir beheld approaching him in his dream.\n\n\u201cSal\u00e1m!\u201d[8] cried Mahmud; and Fagir respectfully returned the greeting,\nwishing the man whom he disliked health and all prosperity. The stain of\ndeceit and hypocrisy was on the garment worn by Fagir.\n\n\u201cHave you heard of the sudden death of Pir Bakhsh?\u201d asked Mahmud,\ndetaining Fagir, who was about to pass on.\n\n\u201cI have heard of it,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cI saw Pir Bakhsh but yesterday,\u201d Mahmud went on; \u201cmy good fortune led\nme to his house then, for had I gone to-day I should have found him a\ncorpse. The poor fellow\u2019s last act before his death was to sell me that\nbit of land which lies close to the Magistrate Sahib\u2019s garden.\u201d\n\nThe eyes of Mahmud glittered with satisfaction as he spake; there was\ntriumph in them, and in the smile on his lips, which seemed to the\nenraged Fagir to say, \u201cI have forestalled thee and overreached thee. I\nknow that thy heart hath been set on that piece of ground; it is now\nmine, and thou never shalt have it, nor so much as set thy foot upon it!\u201d\n\nThe two men parted without words of anger, but the soul of Fagir was\nfilled with disappointment, envy, and anger. He clenched his hand,\ngnashed his teeth, and, turning round, he looked after the retiring form\nof Mahmud with a withering glance of hatred.\n\n\u201cI detest that man,\u201d muttered Fagir to himself; then he started in\nhorror, for behold red spots, as of blood, were staining his once\nwhite robe, and in blood-coloured letters on the border appeared the\ninscription,\u2014_Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer; and ye know\nthat no murderer hath eternal life_ (1 John iii. 15).\n\nFagir now loathed his polluted garment, and would fain have cast it from\nhim, but he had no power to do so; that which he had received from the\nangel had become as a part of himself. That robe was Fagir\u2019s own boasted\nrighteousness, and his eyes had been opened to see that his righteousness\nwas but as _filthy rags_ (Isa. lxiv. 6). But the eyes may be opened\nwithout the heart being converted; and thus it was with Fagir. The\ndownfall of his hopes regarding the piece of ground made him but the more\neager to make money in other ways, that he might indulge his pride and\nostentation.\n\nThen, in his dream, Fagir found himself seated at his desk in the\ncutcherry, with his piles of papers before him. Amongst them was a\nchit[9] from the Collector Sahib, and the contents of it were as follows:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere are two applicants for the office of under clerk: the one, Patras,\na Christian, has been highly recommended to me; the other is Abbas, the\nson of a wealthy merchant. I have desired them both to call upon you,\nthat you may examine them as to their qualifications for the office, as I\nhave not myself time to do so thoroughly.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot time, indeed! the Sahib might better have said, not sufficient\nknowledge of the language and the people,\u201d muttered Fagir to himself, as\nhe laid down the chit. Then calling an attendant who was outside, he said\nto him, \u201cIs any one waiting to see me?\u201d\n\n\u201cA young man, of the name of Patras, has been waiting your lordship\u2019s\npleasure for this last half-hour,\u201d answered the man.\n\n\u201cLet him enter,\u201d said Fagir; and forthwith the Christian entered, and\nmade his respectful sal\u00e1m.\n\nThe head-clerk had no prejudice now against Christians; on the contrary,\nFagir was convinced that they held the true faith, and that if they\nfollowed the example of Him in whom they believed, they would be the most\nupright and holy of men. Fagir moreover knew something of Patras, and\nwas aware that he was one who had had to bear losses for righteousness\u2019\nsake. With kindliness of manner Fagir received the young man, and began,\nafter the customary salutation, to examine him as regarded his knowledge\nof accounts and of other matters connected with the work of the office.\nThe replies of Patras were all that could be desired; he was quick in\nanswering, and made no mistakes. It was clear to the mind of Fagir that\nhere was a man who would intelligently and faithfully fulfil the duties\nof the office.\n\nYet there was something wanting in that young man,\u2014at least, in the\njudgment of the government clerk. Though every answer given to his\nquestions was satisfactory, Fagir did not look satisfied yet. Patras had\nknowledge in his head and wisdom on his lips; but the young Christian had\nbrought nothing in his hand!\n\n\u201cI will see Abbas also before deciding on recommending Patras to the\nCollector Sahib,\u201d thought Fagir. He dismissed the Christian from his\npresence; and, hearing from the attendant that Abbas was waiting at the\nentrance, Fagir gave permission that he should appear before him.\n\nAbbas was a contrast to Patras. The face of the merchant\u2019s son expressed\ncunning rather than talent; his eyes avoided meeting those of Fagir; and\nwhen questioned regarding accounts, the replies of Abbas betrayed his\nimperfect knowledge of business. Fagir saw that the young man had little\nto recommend him, and was about to dismiss him, when Abbas slowly, and\nas it were stealthily, drew forth a heavy bag of rupees. There was no\nneed for speaking a word; this was not the first nor the second time\nthat Fagir\u2014the self-righteous Fagir\u2014had been offered a bribe, and had not\ndeclined it!\n\nBehold, O reader! how one sin draws on another, even as do the divers\nlinks of a chain. With Fagir pride led to extravagance, extravagance\nto debt, debt to covetousness, covetousness to malice, meanness, and\ndishonour. For shameful was the readiness of Fagir, for the sake of\nmoney, to betray the confidence reposed in him by his superior, to\nsacrifice the interests of the public service, and to wrong a deserving\nman. Fagir felt lowered in his own eyes as he took the bag of rupees, and\nsaw the words on the border of his robe,\u2014_He that walketh righteously,\nand speaketh uprightly; he that despiseth the gain of oppression, that\nshaketh his hand from holding of bribes; ... he shall dwell on high_\n(Isa. xxxiii. 15, 16).\n\nThen, in his dream, Fagir found himself standing in the presence of the\ncollector, who wished to hear his opinion of the two candidates for the\noffice of under clerk.\n\n\u201cHave you examined the two men?\u201d inquired the English Sahib; and Fagir\nmade reply,\u2014\n\n\u201cI have done so, your honour.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope that Patras is the one best suited for the situation,\u201d said the\ncollector; \u201cfor he has been highly recommended to me as a perfectly\ntrustworthy man.\u201d\n\n\u201cPatras may be a good man, Sahib,\u201d replied Fagir; \u201cbut he would make\na very bad clerk. In everything connected with work, I find him far\ninferior to Abbas.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen Abbas must have the place,\u201d said the Englishman; \u201cthe public\ninterest must ever be considered first of all.\u201d\n\nFagir heard not the Sahib\u2019s answer, for a feeling of horror had stolen\nover the soul of the guilty clerk. The robe which he wore had suddenly\nrent into rags as he had spoken the words of falsehood, and in letters of\nflame had appeared on the border,\u2014_Lying lips are an abomination unto the\nLord_ (Prov. xii. 22). _All liars shall have their part in the lake which\nburneth with fire and brimstone_ (Rev. xxi. 8).\n\nAnd at that moment again Fagir beheld before him the bright angel from\nwhom he had received the robe\u2014that garment once so white, but now\nstained, ragged, and polluted! The angel spake; but the voice which had\nbeen sweeter than music now sounded more terrible than the blast of the\ntrumpet of the archangel which shall call forth the dead from their\ngraves.\n\n\u201cO Fagir!\u201d cried the angel, \u201cthou art summoned this moment to appear in\nthe presence of the great King.\u201d\n\nThen a horrible fear and dread seized upon the soul of him who had\nbeen so confident in his own righteousness\u2014of him who had said in his\nblindness of heart, \u201cI can hold my head erect before God and man.\u201d How\nshould a poor wretch clad in loathsome rags dare to appear before Him\nwho is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity; how should he venture into\nthe presence of the terrible King! Fagir felt as if he would rather call\non the rocks and the mountains to hide him; and, in his agony, he cried\nout so loudly, \u201cGod be merciful to me, a sinner!\u201d that he awoke from his\ndream. And, behold, he was reclining on cushions, with his hookah beside\nhim, the punkah swinging to and fro, and Kasiti, with her Bible still on\nher knees, sitting at his feet.\n\n\u201cMy lord[10] has had troubled sleep,\u201d said the wife, raising her mild\neyes from her book.\n\n\u201cO Kasiti!\u201d exclaimed Fagir, still trembling from the effects of his\ndream; \u201chow can a poor sinner, such as I am, weak, guilty, and full of\nevil, become fit to appear before God?\u201d\n\nKasiti glanced down again at her Bible, and read aloud the prayer of the\npenitent David from the page which lay open before her,\u2014_Purge me with\nhyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.\nCreate in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me_\n(Ps. li. 7, 10).\n\n\u201cCan those who have stained the garments of the soul ever renew their\nwhiteness?\u201d exclaimed Fagir.\n\nKasiti knew not how to reply to her husband in words of her own; but she\nturned over the leaves of her Bible till she came to the description of\nthe blessed in heaven, and then silently pointed to the words of the\nangel: _These are they which have come out of great tribulation, and have\nwashed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb_ (Rev.\nvii. 14).\n\nFagir prostrated himself before the Lord in deep humility of soul. Having\ndiscovered that he was a great sinner, he now felt his need of a great\nSaviour. Having seen that his own righteousness was as filthy rags, he\ndesired that his soul might be washed clean in the blood of the Lamb of\nGod which taketh away the sin of the world. Fagir soon afterwards sought\nbaptism; but not only the outward sign, the water upon the brow, but the\ninward baptism of the Holy Ghost, the Spirit which toucheth the heart.\n\nHaving received free pardon and found mercy through Christ, Fagir\nthenceforth manfully struggled against the world, the flesh, and the\ndevil. He strove to put away sin\u2014the proud heart, the covetous desire,\nmalice, hatred, and all uncharitableness. Fagir became one who shaketh\nhis hand from holding of bribes, and keepeth his tongue as with a bridle.\nAll who knew him said of Fagir, \u201cBehold one who walketh uprightly.\u201d\nBut Fagir himself never ceased every day to utter the prayer,\u2014_God be\nmerciful to me, a sinner._\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nThe Church which Grew out of One Brick.\n\n\nI.\n\nGunga Ram, Ya\u2019kub, and Isa Das were three poor ryots[11] who lived by\ntheir daily toil, and earned scarcely more than enough to supply their\nfamilies with the bare necessaries of life. These men were neighbours\nand friends; they had heard at the same time the gospel preached by the\ngood Pastor Ghopal; on the same day they had received baptism from his\nhand, and professed their faith in Christ as the Lord. Wherever one of\nthese ryots was seen, it was certain that the other two would not be far\ndistant. And yet, though the three were all Christians in name, toiled in\nthe same field, and led the same kind of life, He who readeth the heart\nsaw as much difference between them as between the diamond which shines\nin a rajah\u2019s diadem and the pebble which the coolie tramples under foot.\n\nOne morning Gunga Ram, Ya\u2019kub, and Isa Das, on their way to the\nrice-field, passed close to the spot on which their pastor, Ghopal, by\nthe aid of the Sahib Log, had been building a church. Money had come from\npraying people in England, and brick by brick the church had risen, until\nonly the roof was wanting. Then there came heavy rains, and the river\nswelled and rose, and overflowed its banks. The storm beat against the\nunfinished building, and the labour of months was swept away in a day.\nThe rain ceased, the river flowed again in its usual channel; but where a\ngoodly church had been rising, alas, there were now but ruins!\n\nGunga Ram, Ya\u2019kub, and Isa Das stood gazing upon these ruins, sorrowful\nto see the destruction wrought by the flood.\n\n\u201cThe heart of the Padre Ghopal will be exceeding sad,\u201d said Isa Das. \u201cIt\nwas his joy day by day to see his church rising, and to think of the time\nwhen he should gather in it his people, as a shepherd gathers his flock.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will build up the church again, and build it more strongly,\u201d said\nYa\u2019kub.\n\n\u201cAlas! my friend, where shall the money come from?\u201d cried Isa Das. \u201cI\nheard Padre Ghopal say but yesterday, with tears in his eyes, that he\nfears that he can get no more rupees from England. The Collector Sahib,\nwho gave thirty gold mohurs, has gone from the station; and Manton Sahib,\nwho fills his place, has refused to give even a pice.\u201d[12]\n\n\u201cManton Sahib is very stingy!\u201d cried Ya\u2019kub. \u201cHe has a grand bungalow,\nfine carriages and horses, and feasts like a prince; he could give many\ngold mohurs and not miss them. Why does he not help to build up our\nchurch?\u201d\n\n\u201cManton Sahib told Padre Ghopal that the people should build one for\nthemselves,\u201d Isa Das made reply.\n\nThen his two companions shook their heads, and said bitter things against\nthe Sahib who cared not to help in such a good work.\n\n\u201cHow can we who are so poor build a church?\u201d exclaimed Ya\u2019kub. \u201cWe live\nin small huts, and seldom eat anything better than rice and fruit. I have\nreally not enjoyed one good satisfying meal since the marriage of my\nyounger brother, two years ago.\u201d Ya\u2019kub sighed at the remembrance of that\ngreat feast\u2014the rich dishes, the pastry, and the sweetmeats; for a feast\nwas to Ya\u2019kub the greatest of joys, and he knew not when he should taste\nsuch another again.\n\n\u201cIf I were a rich baboo,\u201d said Gunga Ram, \u201cI would give a thousand rupees\nto Pastor Ghopal for his church.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I were a great rajah,\u201d cried Ya\u2019kub, \u201cI would build a church all by\nmyself, and make it as grand as the Taj!\u201d[13]\n\n\u201cI shall never be either baboo or rajah,\u201d said Isa Das thoughtfully; \u201cbut\nthough I am only a poor ryot, I should like to put one brick in that\nchurch;\u201d and he looked, as he spoke, at the ruins.\n\n\u201cWhat is thy meaning?\u201d asked his companions.\n\n\u201cO my brothers,\u201d replied Isa Das, \u201cdid not the Pastor Ghopal preach\nyesterday on the words of the Lord Jesus: _It is more blessed to give\nthan to receive_ (Acts xx. 35). When I heard him I said in my heart, \u2018Is\nthat blessing kept for the rich; shall not the poor give something also?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThey cannot give,\u201d cried Gunga Ram, to whom his pice were dear as the\ndrops of blood in his veins.\n\nBut Isa Das did not appear persuaded of the truth of these words. \u201cDo\nyou not remember,\u201d said he, \u201chow, when the Lord Christ stood in the\nTemple, and saw rich men casting into the treasury of God much gold and\nmuch silver, and then a poor widow casting in two mites, He said to His\ndisciples, \u2018This poor widow hath cast in more than they all\u2019 (Luke xxi.\n3). The Lord accepted the offering of her who had little to give, but\ngave from the heart. I should like to put one brick in that church!\u201d\n\nAnd before Isa Das left the spot with his two companions, his wish had\nformed itself into a silent prayer. \u201cO Lord, Thou hast said it is more\nblessed to give than to receive; help me to win that blessing. Thou dost\nlove the offering of the poor; show me the way to offer something to\nThee!\u201d\n\n\nII.\n\nThe three men, Gunga Ram, Ya\u2019kub, and Isa Das, soon reached their place\nof labour,\u2014a rice-field which bordered on a great river. On the other\nside of the broad waters they could see the bungalow to which Manton\nSahib had come but the week before. It was a large well-built bungalow\nwith white pillars, and was partly hidden by the mango-trees and the tall\npalm-trees which grew in the compound around it.\n\n\u201cSee!\u201d cried Gunga Ram, pointing towards the river; \u201cthere is some one on\nhorseback trying to cross the waters.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a stranger; he knows not the ford,\u201d said Isa Das.\n\n\u201cIf he wish not to be carried away by the stream,\u201d observed Ya\u2019kub, \u201che\nmust turn his horse\u2019s head more to the right.\u201d\n\nIsa Das lifted up his voice and shouted, \u201cTo the right\u2014to the right!\u201d\nPerhaps the stranger did not hear him; or hearing, paid no heed to the\nwarning of a poor ryot.\n\n\u201cIt is Manton Sahib himself,\u201d exclaimed Gunga Ram; \u201cI know him by the red\nbeard and long hair.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will be drowned,\u201d said Ya\u2019kub. \u201cSee! his horse has lost his footing\nalready, and is plunging madly into the midst of the foaming waters. The\nSahib will be carried away by the current, and drowned!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us hasten to his help!\u201d cried Isa Das; \u201cwe know the ford well, and\ncould find it even on a starless night.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd we can swim like ducks,\u201d added Ya\u2019kub.\n\n\u201cIf we save the Sahib, we shall have a great reward!\u201d cried Gunga Ram,\nas he eagerly hurried after Isa Das, who had already plunged into the\nswollen river.\n\nAll the three men battled with the waters; all three hastened to save\na drowning man; all three risked their lives to do so. The act was the\nsame, but the motive different. Gunga Ram thought of praise and reward;\nIsa Das thought but of the words of the Lord\u2014\u201cInasmuch as ye did it, ye\ndid it unto me.\u201d\n\nBefore the three ryots could reach the spot where the horse had lost his\nfooting, the commissioner was almost drowned. The rush of waters had\nborne him out of his saddle; only one of his feet was yet in the stirrup;\nthe rein had escaped from his hand; he was clinging for life to the mane\nof the struggling horse, of which only the head could be seen above the\ntorrent. The Sahib had scarcely even power to shout for help; but in his\ngreat need help was at hand. Ya\u2019kub seized the rein of the horse; Gunga\nRam gave his powerful aid; while Isa Das supported the half-drowned man,\nand assisted him to recover his seat in the saddle. With violent efforts,\nand with both difficulty and risk, the three ryots succeeded in bringing\nboth the horse and his gasping rider safe back to the side of the river.\n\nAs the horse struggled up the bank, with clotted mane and streaming\nflanks, Manton Sahib uttered a few words which were not addressed to the\nryots, and which they could not understand. Isa Das thought, and perhaps\nthought rightly, that the Englishman, in his own language, was thanking\nGod for preservation from death. The Sahib shook the drops from his\ndripping hair; his solah topee was floating far away down the river; he\nhad lost it in the desperate struggle for life. Manton patted the neck\nof his trembling horse; then turning towards the ryots, addressed them in\ntheir own tongue,\u2014\n\n\u201cBrave men; you have done a good service, and shall not miss a reward.\nFollow me to my own house.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs your highness commands,\u201d replied the three ryots at once.\n\n\u201cThis is a fortunate day for us,\u201d exclaimed Gunga Ram, as the three men\nfollowed the commissioner towards his handsome bungalow; \u201cwe shall be\npoor ryots no longer; we shall no more have to earn our rice by the sweat\nof our brows.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will eat something better than rice,\u201d cried the feast-loving Ya\u2019kub.\n\u201cIn hopes of good food, I seem already to feel myself growing fat as a\nbaboo!\u201d and he patted his breast.\n\nWhen the commissioner reached his house, he called aloud for his bearer,\nand gave command that money should be brought. A bag of silver was\nquickly placed in the Sahib\u2019s hand; and before he dismounted from his\nhorse, Manton drew from it three rupees, and gave one to each of the men.\n\nThe ryots made low sal\u00e1ms as they took the pieces of silver, and then\ntogether they turned from the commissioner\u2019s house. But the worm of\ndiscontent gnawed at the heart of Gunga Ram.\n\n\u201cDoes the Sahib value his life but at three rupees?\u201d he muttered. \u201cOne\nrupee is not worth the wetting of my waist-cloth!\u201d\n\nYa\u2019kub laughed at the disappointment of his companion. \u201cOne rupee will\nat least buy a right good dinner!\u201d said he. \u201cNo work to-day for me. I\nwill hasten off to the bazaar, and have once more such a feast as that of\nwhich I partook when my younger brother was married.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, thou man without wisdom!\u201d cried Gunga Ram, as he tied up his piece\nof silver in the end of his waist-cloth; \u201cthou wilt not surely spend all\nthy rupee on one meal?\u201d\n\nBut Ya\u2019kub was already beyond hearing of the voice of his friend. It was\nas if the savoury fragrance of the coming feast were drawing Ya\u2019kub on\nfrom afar. He hastened his steps, even as the thirsty camel doth in the\ndesert when he smelleth water, and rusheth towards the well.\n\n\u201cThou wilt not spend thy money thus?\u201d asked Gunga Ram of Isa Das.\n\nIsa Das smiled as he made reply: \u201cNo; I will not thus spend my rupee upon\nfeasting;\u201d and he thought, but he spake not his thought aloud,\u2014\u201cThe Lord\nhath already heard and answered my prayer. I, even I, a poor ryot, will\nput one brick in that church.\u201d\n\n\nIII.\n\nOn the evening of that same day, Padre Ghopal and the English padre,\nLogan by name, walked together to look upon the ruins of the native\nchurch that had been destroyed by the flood. Ghopal, with tears in his\neyes, as he stood by the ruins, besought the Padre Sahib to help him in\nthis great trouble, as he had often helped him before.\n\n\u201cI am sorry, very sorry, for the destruction of your church,\u201d said Logan\nSahib kindly but gravely; \u201cbut I really cannot so soon again ask for\nsubscriptions from England, and my own purse is now empty. There was a\ncollection made for you but last year in my former parish, near London,\nand some of the very poorest of the school children gave to it their\npence and their halfpence, instead of spending the money on sweetmeats.\nI heard of a blind woman who, day by day, can scarcely earn her scanty\nliving by knitting, who yet found that she could spare something to\nhelp the Lord\u2019s work in a distant land. If she cared for the building\nof a church into which she never will enter, and for the conversion\nto God of people whom she never will see, are the members of your\nflock content to remain idle? Do they think it well to sit with folded\nhands like children, and expect to be fed by others? It is time that\nnative Christians should learn the proverb, \u2018God helps those that help\nthemselves.\u2019\u201d\n\nPadre Ghopal shook his head and sighed deeply. \u201cI have spoken to the\npeople on this subject again and again,\u201d he replied, \u201cbut they listen as\nthose who hear not. They are as trees that bear leaves of profession, but\nthe fruit of good works is not seen on the boughs. Besides, my people are\npoor,\u201d added the native pastor.\n\n\u201cWas it not said of the Philippians, how their deep poverty abounded\nunto the riches of their liberality, for that to their power, yea, and\nbeyond their power, they were willing of themselves?\u201d (2 Cor. viii. 2)\nsaid Padre Logan. \u201cNot till we see more of this spirit of liberality and\nself-sacrifice in the Indian Church, will God\u2019s full blessing rest upon\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it, I know it,\u201d sighed Padre Ghopal.\n\n\u201cAnd not all your people are poor,\u201d continued the English pastor. \u201cYou\nhave amongst them baboos in government employ, who receive good salaries\nevery month. Can you not persuade them to give at least one-tenth of\ntheir means to the Giver of all, even as every Jew did in the days of\nold? Shall Christians do less for their religion than did the Jews?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe baboos want good houses, and their wives want fine jewels,\u201d said\nPadre Ghopal. \u201cIf we wait to rebuild this church till the people bring\nfree-will offerings, like Jews at Jerusalem or Christians at Philippi, we\nshall wait till yon river runs dry.\u201d\n\nEven as Padre Ghopal spoke, a poor ryot drew nigh, and respectfully made\nhis sal\u00e1m. \u201cMay I speak with the padre?\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cHe has, of course, some favour to ask,\u201d observed Padre Logan. \u201cThese\npeople are always crying, \u2018Give\u2014give!\u2019\u201d\n\nIsa Das, for it was he, heard the words of the Englishman, and they were\nbitter to the soul of the ryot; but without looking towards him the poor\nman turned to his own pastor and silently held out his hand, in which\nthere was one bright silver rupee.\n\n\u201cWhat is thy meaning? What wouldst thou have me do with this rupee?\u201d\nasked Padre Ghopal in surprise as he took the money.\n\nIsa Das pointed with his finger to the ruins and said, \u201cI should like to\nput one brick into that church.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is strange\u2014very strange!\u201d exclaimed Padre Logan. \u201cI never heard\nof anything like it in this country before. How can such a man, lean in\nbody, and wearing but one garment, have a whole rupee to spare?\u201d and he\nglanced with suspicion at Isa Das, for he thought to himself,\u2014\u201cThat man\nmust have stolen the piece of silver.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet not my lord have hard thoughts of his servant,\u201d said Isa Das, who\nunderstood the look. \u201cYour servant to-day helped Gunga Ram and Ya\u2019kub to\nsave the life of Manton Sahib when he had missed the ford, and was nearly\ndrowned in the river. Manton Sahib for that service gave to each of us a\nrupee.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you devote yours to the building of your church!\u201d exclaimed Padre\nLogan.\n\n\u201cI give it to the Lord, who loved and gave Himself for me,\u201d was Isa Das\u2019s\nreply, as with a cheerful, happy heart he turned from the place.\n\nPadre Logan watched the poor man as he departed, then suddenly shook\nGhopal by the hand. \u201cGod forgive me for my harsh judgment!\u201d he cried;\n\u201cand God be praised that there are men in India like this poor ryot!\u201d\n\nA ray of pleasure and hope brightened the face of Padre Ghopal. \u201cI will\nonce more visit the baboos,\u201d he said, \u201cand see if the example of this\npoor man will not move them to give of their abundance, even as he hath\ngiven of his poverty. But first let us together beseech the Lord to open\nthe hearts of the people.\u201d\n\n\nIV.\n\nWas Isa Das a poorer man on account of what he had given to God? No one\nwould have thought so, who could have seen with what a light step and\nhappy face he returned to his home that evening. The rich flower of joy\ngrows on the prickly shrub of self-denial; the flower blooms even in this\nworld, but the fruit will be gathered in the next. As Isa Das passed\nalong the dusty road which led to his hut, everything on which he looked\nseemed to add to his joy. There was the golden light of sunset; Isa Das\nbeheld it, and said to himself, \u201cLight is the gift of God.\u201d He passed\nwhere the thirsty cattle were drinking at the river, and said to himself,\n\u201cWater is the gift of God.\u201d Isa Das remembered his own blessings, and\nsaid to himself,\u2014\u201cEyes to see, and ears to hear, and hands to work, and\nfeet to walk,\u2014these also are gifts of God. The great Father in heaven\nloves to give. He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth\nin Him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John iii. 16). God\nhath called us to be His children; and shall not the children be even as\nthe Father, and also delight in giving? Yea, to give freely and to give\njoyfully,\u2014this is the right of the children of God.\u201d\n\nWhen Isa Das came in sight of his humble home, his little boy, his\nwell-beloved, ran forth to meet him. The child had a flower in his\nhand,\u2014a small flower which he had plucked to give to his father. Isa Das\ncaught up the child and kissed him, and took the small flower from the\nlittle hand with a smile of acceptance, as if it had been the Koh-i-noor\nworn by the Queen. \u201cMy loving child,\u2014he also is a gift from God,\u201d thought\nthe ryot.\n\nWhen Isa Das entered his humble home, he found that his wife had\ncarefully prepared the evening meal. It was but a very simple meal, but\nIsa Das blessed God before he ate it as thankfully as if he had been\nsitting down to a feast. Then he told his wife of all that had happened;\nfor Isa Das was the Christian husband of a Christian woman, and they\nshared all each other\u2019s sorrows and joys, and nothing that the one did\nwas ever hidden from the other. The love which Isa Das and his Lakhdili\nfelt for each other was also the gift of God.\n\nWhen the wife heard of the gift of the rupee, her eyes sparkled with\npleasure, for she thought,\u2014\u201cMy husband will perhaps buy a new chaddar\nfor me, or bangles to put on the arms of our dear little boy;\u201d but when\nIsa Das told Lakhdili that his money had gone to be, as it were, a brick\nin the church, she was too good a wife and too good a woman to say aught\nagainst what her husband had done.\n\n\u201cOh, husband! thou hast done a good work,\u201d said Lakhdili; \u201cand good works\nare the ladder by which holy men, as thou art, climb to heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, woman!\u201d cried Isa Das with earnestness, \u201cthinkest thou that by\ngood works we poor sinners can climb to heaven? As well might I gather\na heap of date-stones together, and think by mounting on them to reach\nthe noonday sun! Heaven is Christ\u2019s free gift; He bought it for us with\nHis own blood. But we love Him who gave us the gift,\u2014we love Him as my\nlittle child loves me,\u2014and our offerings are even as this flower which my\ndarling gathered to place in the hand of his father.\u201d\n\n\nV.\n\nScarcely had Isa Das finished his meal, when some one approached him. The\nlight of sunset had faded away, and Isa Das could not see the face of him\nwho had come, but when he spoke Isa Das knew well the voice of Gunga Ram.\n\n\u201cDost thou know what hath befallen our companion Ya\u2019kub?\u201d were the first\nwords of Gunga Ram as he seated himself on the ground near Isa Das.\n\n\u201cI have not seen Ya\u2019kub since the morning,\u201d was Isa Das\u2019s reply, \u201cwhen\nfrom Manton Sahib we each received a rupee.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, poor Ya\u2019kub!\u201d cried Gunga Ram, but more in mirth than in sorrow.\n\u201cDid I not warn him and say to him, \u2018Thou man without wisdom, spend not\nall thy money upon one meal!\u2019 His bright rupee has been to him even as a\nmelon under which a centipede lies hidden, that bites the hand of him who\ngathers the fruit.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is thy meaning?\u201d asked Isa Das.\n\n\u201cYa\u2019kub hurried off to the bazaar,\u201d Gunga Ram made answer; \u201cand there,\nto the last pie, he spent his money on buying dainties, the fat and the\nsweet. And he bought bang also, and he ate to the full, and he drank to\nthe full, till his eyes would not have distinguished the saddle of a\nhorse from the hump of a bullock!\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, that Ya\u2019kub should thus have cast disgrace on the Christian name!\u201d\nexclaimed Isa Das with sorrow.\n\nBut Gunga Ram neither showed nor felt any regret at the fall of his\nweaker brother; it was to him rather a cause of mirth.\n\n\u201cYa\u2019kub became in his drunkenness as one who is mad,\u201d thus Gunga Ram went\non with his story. \u201cYa\u2019kub ran against the bearers of a palki,\u2014rushing\nfiercely against them as the wild boar rushes through the jungle,\u2014and,\nbehold! in the palki was the Manton Sahib himself!\u201d Gunga Ram laughed\ntill his sides shook as he added, \u201cSo poor Ya\u2019kub, of course, was sent to\njail. This was the end of his feast! This was the great good which came\nto him from the rupee given by the Sahib!\u201d\n\nThen Isa Das could not help thinking of the words of the wise Solomon\nwritten in the Holy Book,\u2014\u201cThe blessing of the Lord it maketh rich, and\nHe addeth no sorrow with it\u201d (Prov. x. 22). Poor Ya\u2019kub had sought no\nblessing; he had cared but to gratify the lusts of the flesh; and behold\nsorrow and disgrace had come where he had looked for nothing but joy.\n\n\u201cThou wilt not thus spend thy rupee, my friend?\u201d he said unto Gunga Ram.\n\n\u201cSpend it, indeed! Why should I spend it at all?\u201d was Gunga Ram\u2019s reply.\n\u201cNo; I do not lightly part with my money,\u2014I gather it up and store\nit. A pice is but a little coin, but many pice make a rupee, and many\nrupees a gold mohur; and as the proverb saith truly,\u2014\u2018By patience the\nmulberry-leaf becomes satin.\u2019\u201d Gunga Ram lowered his voice and glanced\nround him suspiciously as he went on,\u2014\u201cWhy should I hide a secret from\nthee which I have already confided to Ya\u2019kub? The Sahib\u2019s coin lies not\nalone in my bag,\u2014there are now thrice three, which I have saved by care\nand self-denial; and if things go well with me to the end of the year,\nI shall have as many rupees saved as I have fingers on these two hands;\u201d\nand Gunga Ram stretched out his hands as he spoke.\n\n\u201cWhat avails our having money, if we never spend it?\u201d asked Isa Das.\n\u201cHast thou never heard the words of the Lord: \u2018Lay not up for yourselves\ntreasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves\nbreak through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven,\nwhere neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break\nthrough nor steal\u2019?\u201d (Matt. vi. 19, 20).\n\nGunga Ram gave a sign of impatience. \u201cPreach not to me, but look to\nthyself!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cI wot thou hast not yet parted thyself with the\nSahib\u2019s rupee.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have parted with it,\u201d replied Isa Das with a smile.\n\n\u201cHast thou then been to the bazaar and bought a ring, or a bracelet, or a\nnew kamarband?\u201d asked Gunga Ram.\n\nIsa Das shook his head.\n\n\u201cOr a goat to give milk to thy child?\u201d\n\nAgain Isa Das shook his head as he made reply,\u2014\u201cI have bought nothing, O\nmy friend!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen thou hast lost thy rupee?\u201d cried Gunga Ram.\n\n\u201cI have not lost it,\u201d said Isa Das with cheerfulness.\n\n\u201cThou hast not kept, nor spent, nor lost it; then hast thou been so mad\nas to give it away to some poor neighbour?\u201d asked Gunga Ram, who would\nnot so much as have given away an anna to his own brother.\n\n\u201cI have given it to One who is rich,\u201d replied Isa Das; and he added to\nhimself,\u2014\u201cto One who for our sakes was yet content to be poor.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf thou hast given thy good rupee to one who is rich already, thou hast\nindeed acted the part of a fool!\u2014unless, indeed, he be likely to repay\nthee thy money with interest,\u201d said Gunga Ram.\n\n\u201cA hundredfold\u2014a thousandfold,\u201d thought Isa Das, as he lifted up his eyes\ntowards heaven. \u201cIt is there that I would lay up my treasure.\u201d\n\n\nVI.\n\nOn the following evening there was a great dinner at the bungalow of\nManton Sahib. All the English gentlemen of the station were invited, and\namongst them came Padre Logan.\n\nThere was much talk at the dinner-table on various matters,\u2014the\nlast news from Europe, the state of the crops, the movements of the\ngovernor-general, and the chance of a war in Burmah. At last Padre Logan\nobserved to Manton Sahib, to whom he sat opposite, \u201cI hear that yesterday\nyou had a narrow escape from drowning.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Manton Sahib; \u201cI missed the ford when attempting to cross\nthe river, lost my seat in the saddle, and never in all my life felt\nmyself nearer to death than I did when the waters came rushing around me,\nfor I am unable to swim. I believe that I should not have been sitting\nat this table to-day, had not three ryots, capital swimmers, come to my\nrescue.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you gave each of them a rupee,\u201d observed Padre Logan.\n\n\u201cUnlucky rupees they were,\u201d cried the commissioner, shrugging his\nshoulders.\n\n\u201cHow so?\u201d inquired Padre Logan, whilst the rest of the company at table\nbecame silent in order to listen.\n\n\u201cWhy, before the day was over, one of the fellows got drunk on his\nrupee,\u201d replied Manton Sahib. \u201cHe actually attacked my bearers with a\nstick when I was going home in my palki in the evening, and was so noisy\nand troublesome that I was obliged to send him to prison.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut another of the ryots made a very different use of his rupee,\u201d\nobserved Padre Logan.\n\n\u201cThat is to say, he made no use of it at all,\u201d replied the commissioner.\n\u201cBut the very circumstance of his having the money brought the poor\nfellow to grief.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so?\u201d asked Colonel Miller, an officer who sat at the end of the\ntable.\n\n\u201cA rumour had been abroad,\u201d thus Manton Sahib made reply, \u201cthat week\nafter week, and month after month, this ryot, whose name is Gunga Ram,\nhas been saving money, pie by pie. But no one was sure of the matter,\nfor the man\u2019s earnings were so small that it was hard to believe that he\nshould be able to scrape any money together. But it appears that Ya\u2019kub,\nin his drunkenness, had made it known throughout the bazaar that Gunga\nRam, like himself, had received a present from me; and perhaps rumour had\nturned the one rupee into ten.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is likely enough,\u201d said Padre Logan.\n\n\u201cBe that as it may, poor Gunga Ram had to pay dearly for his love of\nmoney,\u201d said Manton Sahib. \u201cAbout midnight some thieves entered his hut,\nand searched it, but at first could find nothing in it. Determined to\nreach the supposed hoard, the villains seized poor Gunga Ram, and cruelly\ntortured him to make him confess where he had buried his money. In his\nagony the poor wretch told them the place. The cries of Gunga Ram reached\nthe ears of some of the police, who came to his aid; but before they\nentered the hut the thieves had made off with the money, and the police\nfound only the miserable Gunga Ram stretched on the ground bleeding and\ngroaning. He was carried off to the hospital at once. Thus you see that I\nhad some cause to say that mine were unlucky rupees.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have told us of the fate of two of the receivers of your gift,\u201d\nobserved the English padre; \u201clet me now tell you something of the third\nryot, and of the use which he made of his rupee, which may perhaps be to\nyou yet more surprising.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne of the fellows is lodged in an hospital, another in a jail,\u201d said\nColonel Miller, laughing; \u201cI suppose that the story of the third will\nbe that he bought a rope with his rupee, and hanged himself in the next\nmango-grove.\u201d\n\nMost of the rest of the company laughed; but Manton Sahib turned\nattentively to listen to what Padre Logan was going to say. \u201cWhat did the\nthird man do with his money?\u201d he inquired.\n\n\u201cHe gave it to Padre Ghopal, to help to rebuild the little native church\nthat was thrown down by the flood,\u201d was the padre\u2019s reply.\n\nAll the company looked surprised. No one had been surprised to hear of a\nman getting drunk on bang, or of another being tortured and robbed; but\nthey regarded the poor ryot\u2019s free-will offering to God as a very strange\nthing indeed.\n\n\u201cI can scarcely believe it,\u201d said Colonel Miller; and his face expressed\ndoubt yet more than did his words.\n\n\u201cI was myself present when Isa Das gave his rupee into the hand of\nGhopal,\u201d said the English padre.\n\n\u201cThen I can only say that this ryot gives me a higher opinion of the\nnatives of India than I ever had before,\u201d observed Colonel Miller.\n\n\u201cYou see, sir,\u201d said Logan, addressing himself to Manton Sahib, \u201cthat not\nall of the rupees went to the thieves or to the seller of bang.\u201d\n\nManton Sahib was silent for some moments, reflecting deeply. At the time\nof his preservation from drowning he had thanked God for saving him\nfrom death, but never till he heard of the gift of the poor ryot had he\nthought of bringing a thank-offering, an acknowledgment of the mercy\nshown to him by God. The poor man\u2019s piety kindled a feeling of piety in\nthe breast of the wealthy Sahib, even as one torch is kindled by another.\n\n\u201cAre the natives, then, so anxious to have their church built?\u201d the\ncommissioner asked of the clergyman.\n\n\u201cMany wish it to be built,\u201d was Padre Logan\u2019s reply; \u201cbut Isa Das is the\nonly one of whom I have yet heard as helping the cause by a gift.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen let his example be followed,\u201d cried Manton Sahib; \u201cand my help\nshall not be wanting. Tell Ghopal, that whatever sum of money he may\nsucceed in gathering from his native flock for the building of the church\nbefore Sunday next, shall be doubled by me.\u201d\n\n\u201cGhopal will not gather much, I suspect,\u201d observed Colonel Miller to\nManton Sahib; \u201cyour purse will not be greatly lightened.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhether the sum be small or great, I will keep to my promise,\u201d said the\ncommissioner; \u201cand the heavier the drain on my purse, the better shall I\nbe pleased.\u201d\n\n\nVII.\n\nBefore the rising of the sun on the following morning, Padre Logan was\non his way to the house of Ghopal, to carry to him the news of the\ncommissioner\u2019s promise. Before the sun had set on that day, Padre Ghopal\nhad visited the dwelling of every native Christian in the place, and\nin every house had told of the poor ryot\u2019s offering, and of the rich\ncommissioner\u2019s offer. Never had such interest and excitement been shown\namongst the Christians before. The punishment of Ya\u2019kub, the erring one,\nand the robbery of the money of the unfortunate Gunga Ram, were known to\nall; and the story of the three rupees from the lips of Padre Ghopal fell\nwith more effect upon the ears of the hearers than ten sermons might have\ndone. \u201cGod is great!\u201d they exclaimed. \u201cHappy is he upon whom rests the\nblessing of the Most High. Without that blessing, even money may bring\nbut sorrow and shame.\u201d\n\nPadre Ghopal carried with him a bag to receive the contributions of the\npeople. When he started in the morning, there was but one rupee in the\nbag\u2014that one was the offering of Isa Das; but before Ghopal returned to\nhis home the bag had become a heavy burden, full of pice, annas, and\nrupees. Those who had never given before now gave with thankfulness and\njoy.\n\n\u201cI was going to spend much on the marriage festivities of my daughter,\u201d\nsaid one; \u201cI will spend less on feasting and show, that I may have\nsomething to spare for the work of God. May the Lord Jesus grant His\nfavour to my child; that is far better than dance or feasting could be.\u201d\n\n\u201cI had intended to buy a new horse,\u201d said a baboo; \u201cbut I will make my\nold pony carry me yet another year. I will ride him with pleasure; and\nmounted upon him, will go from day to day to see the house of God rising\nfrom its ruins, for I shall have put many bricks in that church.\u201d\n\nMargam, the mother of Padre Ghopal, had no money to give; but, with a\nhappy smile, she drew from her arm a silver bangle, and dropped it into\nthe bag of her son. \u201cLet the silver be changed into bricks for the house\nof the Lord,\u201d said the pious woman.\n\nBefore the appointed Sunday arrived, Padre Logan and Ghopal together,\nwith thankful surprise, counted out the money which had been poured by\nrich and poor into the treasury of the Lord. The coppers and the silver\ntogether, and cowries also, that were found in the bag, amounted to a\ngoodly sum; and when the last rupee had been counted, Padre Ghopal lifted\nup his eyes to heaven, and exclaimed, \u201cGod be praised! He hath answered\nour prayers even beyond our hopes. There is lying before me in these\nheaps half of the money required to build up our church!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Manton Sahib will double the amount,\u201d said the joyful Padre Logan.\n\u201cHe is a man who will never flinch back from keeping his promise.\u201d\n\nPadre Logan was right; nor had the commissioner the slightest wish to\nflinch back from keeping his promise. Manton Sahib rejoiced to help those\nwho were helping themselves. Never had the Englishman written anything\nwith more pleasure than when he dipped his pen and made out a cheque on\nthe Bank of Bengal for the remainder of the sum required to complete the\nbuilding of the church.\n\nFast went on the work of building; the church seemed to grow rapidly, as\nrice when the water rises around it. Every one in the Christian village\nrejoiced to see its progress, and many who could give no money gave a\nhelping hand to the work.\n\n\u201cThis is our own church,\u201d the people would say; \u201cwe need no more money\nfrom England. We ourselves, with the Commissioner Sahib\u2019s help, have\nbuilt our house of prayer, and we will support our minister also. It is\na good thing to offer freely and joyfully to the Lord. \u2018God loveth a\ncheerful giver\u2019\u201d (2 Cor. ix. 7).\n\nBefore the rainy season arrived the little church was built and roofed\nin; and there was a glad gathering of all the people to celebrate the\nopening of the holy house with prayer and songs of praise. Gunga Ram and\nYa\u2019kub were there; the one had left his hospital, the other had been\ndismissed from jail. Gunga Ram had a pale cheek, and a deep scar left by\na wound; and poor Ya\u2019kub could scarcely lift his eyes from the ground,\nfor shame covered his face. These two poor ryots joined in the prayer,\nbut their voices were not heard in the songs of joy.\n\nAfter the meeting was over, Gunga Ram and Ya\u2019kub joined Isa Das, who\nwas standing a little apart, his hands clasped, his face bright with\nhappiness, as he looked at the beautiful building standing where only\nruins had been.\n\n\u201cAh, my brother!\u201d cried Gunga Ram, \u201cthis is indeed a day of rejoicing for\nthee. Behold God hath heard thy prayer, and hath greatly prospered thy\nwork.\u201d\n\nGunga Ram spoke from the heart, for during the time of his sore sickness\nand pain God\u2019s Holy Spirit had spoken to his soul. Gunga Ram had resolved\nthat out of his little earnings a tenth part should always henceforth\nbe devoted to holy uses, the support of his pastor, and the relief of\nthe poor. Gunga Ram would seek to lay up for himself treasure in heaven,\nwhere neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, nor thieves break through and\nsteal.\n\n\u201cI am as joyous as if I were sultan of the world,\u201d said Isa Das, \u201cwhen I\nlook on that house, in which I hope that the gospel will be preached from\ngeneration to generation.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd thou thyself hath built that church,\u201d said Gunga Ram.\n\n\u201cI build a church!\u2014I, who am but a poor ryot!\u201d exclaimed Isa Das in\nsurprise. \u201cThou dost not well, O Gunga Ram, to speak words of mockery to\nthy friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are not words of mockery, but words of truth,\u201d replied Gunga Ram.\n\u201cWithout thy prayers and thy offering, that church would not have been\nstanding there this day. It is thou who didst build that church.\u201d\n\n\u201cI laid but one brick,\u201d said Isa Das.\n\n\u201cBut as from the seed springs the tree, so from that one brick laid in\nfaith and prayer that goodly building hath risen,\u201d said Gunga Ram. \u201cO my\nbrother, I have learned a great lesson whilst lying wounded and in sore\ntrouble,\u2014a lesson which is worth more to me than the nine rupees which\nthe robbers carried away. Our money is as seed-corn which the Lord, the\ngreat Land-owner, commits to His servants that they may sow and reap a\nhundredfold. Ya\u2019kub was as one who grinds the seed-corn and eats it, and\nlo, his field is brown and bare when the green blade is springing up in\nthe fields of others around him! I was as one who hides his seed-corn\ntill the time for sowing is past, and that which might have brought forth\ngood fruit becomes corrupted and mouldy. But thou, O Isa Das, thou hast\nbeen as one who does the bidding of his lord, and in the day of harvest\ngreatly rejoices. For is it not written in the Word of Truth, _He that\nsoweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that\nsoweth to the spirit, shall of the spirit reap life everlasting_?\u201d (Gal.\nvi. 8.)\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe Pugree[14] with a Border of Gold.\n\n\nIt was a happy day for Hassan, the Christian moonshee,[15] when all\narrangements were settled for the marriage of his daughter Fatima with\nYuhanna, a highly respectable baboo,[16] who held the same faith as\nhimself. Hassan had had a time of great trouble both before and after\nhis baptism; old friends had turned their back upon him, and those who\nhad often eaten his bread had crossed to the other side of the road when\nthey saw him. Reproach had been cast upon his name, and sharp words\nhad pierced his soul like a sword. Yet Hassan had held fast to the\nfaith which he had embraced; he had borne losses and endured reproach,\nstrengthened by prayer,[17] and helped by the counsels of Alton Sahib,\nthe English friend who had first placed a Bible in the hands of his\nmoonshee. The storm of persecution had now passed over; men ceased to\nrevile one whom they could not but respect; Hassan earned a comfortable\nlivelihood by teaching; and now his daughter\u2019s betrothal to the baboo\nwhom above all others he preferred for a son-in-law, was as a crown to\nhis prosperity.\n\n\u201cWe will have a grand wedding, O Margam,\u201d said Hassan to his wife; \u201ca\ngreat _tamasha_,[18] and plenty of feasting!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my daughter shall have goodly garments, meet for the bride of\nYuhanna,\u201d[19] said the smiling Margam. \u201cShe shall have a shawl woven at\nAmritsar, and embroidery from Delhi, and slippers worked in blue and\nsilver, such as are worn by the begum.\u201d[20]\n\n\u201cAnd what shall I have, O father?\u201d cried little Yusuf, the youngest child\nof the moonshee, and dear to his heart as the light of his eyes.\n\n\u201cThou at the wedding of thy sister shalt have a new pugree with a border\nof gold,\u201d said Hassan, bending down to kiss fondly the brow of his child.\n\n\u201cFor the wedding festivities and the goodly garments money must be\nborrowed,\u201d observed Margam, who knew that the expenses to be incurred\nwould amount to a sum much greater than her husband could earn in a year\nby teaching.\n\n\u201cYes, I must borrow,\u201d said Hassan calmly, but with a look of thought. \u201cTo\nwhom shall I go for the money?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo Nabi Bakhsh,\u201d suggested Margam.\n\n\u201cNot to Nabi Bakhsh, of all men!\u201d exclaimed the moonshee; \u201che is an\nusurer who would squeeze juice out of a date-stone! Not to Sadik, for I\nowe him five rupees already.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is the English Sahib; he is a great friend of my lord,\u201d observed\nMargam; \u201csurely when he hears that the money is required for a\nwedding-feast he will be ready to lend.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Alton Sahib is able to do so,\u201d cried Hassan; \u201chis salary is five\nhundred rupees a month, and I doubt that he spends more than three. He\nhas the smallest and worst bungalow in the station, and keeps fewer\nservants than a clerk on the railway would do. The Sahib must be laying\nup money; and he is so much my friend that I am sure that he would help\nme in this my need. To-day is a holiday in the school where I teach; my\ntime is therefore my own, and I will go at once to the Sahib.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd as you come back by the bazaar, O father,\u201d cried the eager little\nYusuf, \u201cbe sure that you do not forget to buy for me the pretty new\npugree with a border of gold.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not forget it, O my child,\u201d said the moonshee with a smile, as he\nrose to depart.\n\nHassan had pleasant thoughts whilst he went on his way towards the\nbungalow of Alton Sahib. He considered how the Lord had brought him\nthrough all his troubles, and after the storm of adversity had given the\nsunshine of joy to His servant. \u201cThose who despised me will envy me now,\u201d\nthought Hassan; \u201cmy daughter is to marry a good man and a prosperous man,\nand the grand feast which I shall prepare will show to all that this is\nan occasion of great joy and rejoicing.\u201d\n\nWhen Hassan came in sight of the little bungalow of Alton Sahib, his\nthoughts flowed in another channel.\n\n\u201cIt is strange that a government Sahib should choose to live in a place\nlittle better than a stable,\u201d said the moonshee to himself. \u201cThat\nbungalow is only fit for owls and rats, and will come down in the next\nrains. The Sahib is at home, I see, for there is the syce[21] leading\naway his horse from the door. Horse, did I call it! How can an English\nSahib ride such a wretched tatt\u00fa?[22] The tall man\u2019s feet must almost\ntouch the ground as he rides. There is only one thing which I do not like\nabout Alton Sahib. He is as good a Christian and as true a friend as ever\ntrod the earth, but he must have a close fist, and be uncommonly fond of\nhis money. I never hear of his entertaining a friend: and he seems to\nmake his coat last for ever; I wonder whether he ever intends to buy a\nnew one! I like a Sahib to spend freely, and never take to counting the\npice. Does not the Bible say, \u2018Lay not up for yourselves treasures on\nearth\u2019? Why does one who loves God as the Sahib does hoard up his money\nthus? It is a grievous fault in the Sahib.\u201d\n\nHassan forgot the Sahib\u2019s fault when he stood in his presence, met his\nkindly smile, and heard his hearty congratulations on the approaching\nmarriage in his family. Hassan was asked to take a seat; there were but\ntwo chairs in the room, which was very poorly furnished indeed.\n\nAlton Sahib listened smilingly to all that Hassan had to tell him about\nthe baboo who was to become his son-in-law,\u2014how much respected he was by\nall, and how much property he had in his village. But the smile passed\nfrom the Sahib\u2019s face when Hassan, after much other conversation, told\nthe object of his visit, and asked for a loan of two hundred rupees.\n\n\u201cI have not the money,\u201d said the Sahib gravely; \u201cand if I had, it would\nbe against my conscience to lend it.\u201d\n\nHassan could scarcely refrain from an exclamation of surprise. He glanced\nround the room in which he sat, and Alton Sahib, who quickly read the\nminds of men, perceived that in that of the moonshee was arising the\nthought, \u201cCan the Sahib be speaking the truth?\u201d\n\nThe face of the Englishman flushed; he hesitated for several moments, as\nif it were a painful effort to him to utter that which he was about to\nsay.\n\n\u201cHassan, I seldom speak to any one about my private affairs,\u201d said the\nSahib at last; \u201cbut I believe that it will be better both for you and\nfor myself if I do so now. You think me close-handed and unwilling to\npart with my money; you may even think me insincere, and therefore a most\ninconsistent Christian; but I spoke but truth when I said that I had no\nmoney. The fact is\u201d\u2014the Sahib lowered his voice as he went on\u2014\u201cthe fact\nis, that I am in debt to a friend;\u201d and the flush on the young man\u2019s brow\nand cheek deepened as he uttered the words.\n\nHassan\u2019s surprise was now twofold; he wondered how the prudent Sahib\ncould have got into debt, and he wondered why any one should blush to own\nthat he had done so. There was nothing shameful to Hassan in the idea of\nbeing in debt; like many of his countrymen, he thought it a very small\nmatter, scarcely a misfortune, and not in the least degree a disgrace.\nIt was clear that debt was not regarded in the same light by the English\nChristian.\n\nIt had often been a matter of regret to Alton Sahib to see how lightly\ndebt weighed on the consciences of many in India. He took a deep interest\nin the spiritual welfare of Hassan, whom he regarded as a brother in\nChrist. \u201cShall I see my brother sin, and not tell him of his error?\u201d\nthought Alton Sahib. \u201cDebt in this land is as the canker-worm in the\ngrain, or the hidden abscess in the human frame. I can best show Hassan\nhow I abhor it by letting him know what efforts I have myself made, and\nam now making, to get rid of the plague.\u201d\n\n\u201cI feel it due to myself to let you know something of the circumstances\nthat involved me in the debt from which I am, and have been for years,\nstruggling to free myself,\u201d said the young Sahib, after another pause.\n\u201cWhen I was in Calcutta, not long after my first arrival in this country,\nI was robbed at a hotel of all the ready money which I possessed.\nThis was, of course, a source of annoyance to me, but not of serious\ndifficulty, as I had a wealthy friend in a station in Bengal, who would,\nI knew, at once advance whatever I required to pay my hotel-bill, and to\ntake me up to the Punjaub, the province to which I had been appointed. I\nbelieved that the loan would be very soon repaid by my father in England.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour excellency\u2019s mind must have been quite at rest in the matter,\u201d\nobserved the moonshee.\n\n\u201cAs I dipped my pen,\u201d continued the Sahib, \u201cto write to my friend the\njudge to ask for a loan of three hundred rupees, the very smallest sum\nthat would suffice to cover needful expenses, a servant brought in\nletters from England. I laid down my pen and opened the first one, little\nguessing the heavy news which it would contain. The letter informed me\nthat, by the failure of a bank, all my father\u2019s property, the savings of\nmany years, had been swept away; and that he who had risen in the morning\nbelieving himself to be in affluence, had lain down at night in a state\nof poverty, which illness made more distressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! the news was heavy indeed!\u201d exclaimed Hassan.\n\n\u201cMy father has since been called to that happy home where there is no\nmore trial,\u201d said Alton Sahib with a sigh; \u201che had laid up treasure in\nheaven, in that bank which never can fail. But at the time of which I\nspeak his need was pressing; I wrote to the judge in haste, but instead\nof borrowing, as I had intended, three hundred rupees with the assurance\nthat the money would be repaid in two months, I asked for the loan of\nfive thousand rupees, to be repaid I knew not when, that I might send\nhome help at once to my sick and afflicted father.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the Judge Sahib gave the money?\u201d asked Hassan.\n\n\u201cAt once, most generously, most readily,\u201d replied the young English\nSahib; \u201cnor do I believe that he would ever ask me for one rupee of the\nmoney again.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll is well, then, your excellency,\u201d observed Hassan; \u201cthe Judge Sahib\nis rich, he needs not the money, the matter is no trouble to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it has been a sore trouble to me,\u201d cried the young Sahib quickly; \u201cI\ncould no more sit down quietly under that burden of debt, than I could\ncalmly endure to wear a chain of iron around my neck. My life has been\none perpetual effort to cast off that chain; link by link I have broken\nit away. I lived from the first on half my income\u2014lived as no other\nEnglish gentleman in my position would do. When my salary was increased,\nI did not increase my expenses. I have endured to be thought stingy and\ninhospitable, in a land where not to have the hand and the door open is\nesteemed a great reproach. I could not give alms or entertain guests on\nthe money that was really another\u2019s; it was better in man\u2019s sight to be\nunjustly considered mean, than in the sight of God to be dishonest.\u201d\n\n\u201cDishonest!\u201d exclaimed Hassan in astonishment; the word did not seem in\nhis mind to be in the least suited for the occasion.\n\n\u201cYes, dishonest,\u201d repeated the Sahib; \u201cmoney which we have borrowed is\nnot really our own,\u2014it belongs to the lender.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was his pleasure to lend it,\u201d observed Hassan.\n\n\u201cBut not his pleasure that it should never be returned,\u201d rejoined the\nSahib with animation.\n\nStill the moonshee did not appear persuaded that there could be any harm\nin incurring a debt to a man who was rich enough to spare the money.\n\nAlton Sahib rose and went up to his table, on which lay a Bible. He\nturned over the pages, and then silently pointed out the text,\u2014_Owe no\nman anything, but to love one another_ (Rom. xiii. 8).\n\n\u201cI knew not that such a command was in the Bible,\u201d observed the moonshee.\n\u201cBut the Sahib was under necessity to break it.\u201d\n\n\u201cConscience does not reproach me for incurring my debt,\u201d said Alton Sahib\ngravely, \u201cbut conscience would give me no rest if I neglected doing my\nutmost to pay back what I owe. I hope, when my last month\u2019s salary comes\nin on Monday, to send back the last rupee to my friend; and the day on\nwhich I find myself free from debt will doubtless be one of the happiest\ndays of my life.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! then the Sahib will be able, after all, to lend to his servant!\u201d\nexclaimed Hassan with pleasure; \u201cthe marriage of my daughter will not\ntake place for more than a month.\u201d\n\nAlton Sahib felt vexed that all that he had said had had so little effect\non the mind of the Christian moonshee. The young man closed the Bible and\nreturned to his seat.\n\n\u201cMoonshee J\u00e9,\u201d he said, \u201cI borrowed money from pressing necessity; you\nwould borrow without necessity.\u201d\n\nAgain surprise awoke in the breast of the moonshee. \u201cDid I not tell your\nexcellency,\u201d he said, \u201cthat I required money for the wedding festivities\nof my daughter?\u201d[23]\n\n\u201cAnd what necessity is there that those festivities should involve you\nin great expense, or entangle you in debt?\u201d said Alton Sahib. \u201cIf you\ncould be content to put aside pride and ostentation, to place simple fare\nbefore a moderate number of guests, and avoid all waste and show, your\nown means would suffice for the marriage expenses. Will your daughter\nbe more happy as a wife, because her wedding-feast has made her father\nact in a way that befits not a Christian? Is God\u2019s blessing on the union\nto be procured by disobeying God\u2019s command? What profit is there in an\nexpensive wedding-feast?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the dastur,\u201d[24] observed Hassan, as if that expression were a\nsufficient answer to all objections.\n\n\u201cO my friend!\u201d exclaimed Alton Sahib, \u201cyou who condemn the worship of\nidols, make not for yourself an idol of dastur. It was once the dastur in\nEngland for Sahibs who received a slight affront to call out the offender\nto some retired spot, that the two might shoot at each other with\npistols, that so the offence, however small, might be wiped out in blood.\u201d\n\n\u201cA very evil dastur,\u201d remarked the moonshee.\n\n\u201cBut one so generally observed, that it was thought the deepest dishonour\nto break through it,\u201d said Alton Sahib. \u201cBut men were found brave and\nfaithful enough to break through such a dastur for the sake of Christ\nand the gospel. It is now the dastur amongst Mohammedans to recite the\npraises of their prophet; it is the dastur amongst Brahmins to wear their\nholy threads; but you have broken through your dastur, and Brahmins,\nconverted like yourself to the Christian religion, have cast aside their\nmuch-valued threads. Will you, O my friend, reserve _any_ dastur that is\ncontrary to the will of God? Will you say to your Heavenly King, \u2018Lord! I\nhave given up for Thee the love of brethren, the favour of friends, many\nof the things which I prized most upon earth; but I cannot\u2014will not\u2014even\nto obey Thee, give up the dastur of half-ruining myself to have a grand\nwedding-feast. I at my baptism renounced \u201cthe world, the flesh, and the\ndevil,\u201d but I reserved one thing which is of the world which I will not\nrenounce.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe face of the moonshee looked troubled. His friend had pointed out\nsin where he had hitherto seen no sin; dishonesty in what he had never\nconsidered dishonest; shame in what he had never thought shameful. With\na deep sigh he made reply: \u201cIt is not for myself that I care; but what\nwould those of my household say if I bade them, on such an occasion, act\ndifferently from all those who dwell around them!\u201d Before the mind of the\nmoonshee arose the images of Margam and Fatima, and the loved child who\nwas perhaps the dearest of all. How could he bear to disappoint them,\nand expose them to the taunts of their neighbours!\n\n\u201cGo to your family; they too are Christians,\u201d said Alton Sahib, \u201cand, I\ntrust, Christians not only in name. Repeat to them what I have said to\nyou to-day. Ask them whether the pride of life which leads to sinful debt\nbe not condemned in this verse?\u2014\u2018All that is in the world, the lust of\nthe flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the _pride of life_, is not of\nthe Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust\nthereof; but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever\u2019 (1 John ii.\n16, 17). Ask them whether in another world, nay, even one year hence,\nthe remembrance that a foolish dastur was given up for conscience\u2019 sake\nwill not be sweeter than the recollection of the grandest display at a\nwedding? The praise of man is as the gay paper-lamps at an illumination,\nthat last but for a night; the praise of God is as the stars in the sky,\nthat shone ere the day of our birth, and which will shine long after our\nbodies have been laid in the tomb.\u201d\n\nHassan arose, made his sal\u00e1m, and took his departure. His reason was\nconvinced, his conscience was aroused, he was almost persuaded to have a\nsimple and inexpensive wedding; but whenever he thought of his family his\nresolution gave way.\n\n\u201cI will not return through the bazaar,\u201d said Hassan to himself rather\nsadly; \u201cI should be too much tempted to buy for my darling the pugree\nwith a border of gold!\u201d\n\nNo sooner was the shadow of Hassan seen on the threshold of his home\nthan little Yusuf, full of eagerness, ran forward to meet his father.\nThe child looked to see whether the moonshee had brought anything in his\nhand, and the face of the little one showed disappointment when he saw\nthat the hand was empty.\n\n\u201cO father!\u201d exclaimed Yusuf, \u201cyou have forgotten my pugree!\u201d\n\n\u201cI forgot it not, my son,\u201d said the moonshee, as, entering the inner\napartment, he seated himself on his carpet.\n\n\u201cHas my lord ordered any of the things needed for the great day which\nis coming?\u201d asked the smiling Margam, who was preparing the moonshee\u2019s\nhookah. Fatima thought of bangles[25] and ear-rings, but she was too shy\nto utter a word.\n\n\u201cI have delayed making my preparations,\u201d said the moonshee.\n\nMargam saw that the mind of her husband was perplexed with much thought.\n\u201cHas the English Sahib then given nothing?\u201d she ventured to ask.\n\n\u201cThe Sahib has given a great deal of good advice, but advice which we\nshould all find it very hard to follow,\u201d replied the convert. \u201cBe seated,\nO Margam and Fatima, and you shall hear what the Sahib says regarding\ngrand marriage festivities, and the debts to which, in this country, they\nalmost necessarily lead.\u201d\n\nWondering, and rather fearing what might be coming, Margam and Fatima\nseated themselves on the floor and listened. Little Yusuf took his\nfavourite place close to his father, whose hand he fondled in both his\nown. The moonshee then repeated, almost word for word, what had passed\nbetween himself and his English friend. Margam broke in every now and\nthen with an exclamation of surprise or displeasure; but Fatima listened\nin silence, with her glance bent on the ground. The large eyes of Yusuf\nwere never taken from the face of his father; the child was eagerly\ndrinking in all that was uttered. Though he could not understand every\nword, Yusuf took in the general meaning of much that was said.\n\nWhen the moonshee ceased, there was a short silence in the room. Margam\nlooked vexed, and the downcast eyes of Fatima were brimming over with\ntears. It would be to these women, Christians though they were, a\nterrible trial to break through dastur on such an occasion as that of a\nwedding.[26]\n\n\u201cI leave the decision to you all,\u201d said the moonshee, glad perhaps thus\nto escape from himself deciding so difficult a question. \u201cShall I borrow\nfrom some one else, and have all things arranged according to dastur; or\nshall we give up everything that is not necessary, to avoid displeasing\nGod by incurring debt?\u201d\n\nAgain there was a short silence. Little Yusuf was the first to break\nit. Clinging to his father, the child raised himself to a position high\nenough for his lips almost to reach his parent\u2019s ear, and then said\nin a whisper,\u2014which was, however, distinct enough to be heard by all\npresent,\u2014\u201cI will please the Lord Jesus by giving up my pugree bordered\nwith gold.\u201d\n\nThe most learned discourse could not have had more effect than those\nsimple words of the child. The vexed look on the mother\u2019s face changed to\na smile; and though two big tears dropped down the cheeks of Fatima, she\nwas able cheerfully to say, \u201cI would rather please the Lord Jesus than\nhave Malika Victoria\u2019s jewel, the grand Koh-i-noor!\u201d\n\nA few weeks afterwards, the marriage took place. Great was the surprise\namongst the neighbours of Hassan at the simple arrangements made for\nthe wedding. The feast was chiefly of fruit, the ornaments chiefly of\nflowers; but the fruit was sweet, and the flowers fairer than anything\nthat man\u2019s hand could have made. Fatima was a very happy bride, for she\nthought to herself, \u201cAs the Lord deigned to come to the marriage at Cana,\nwe can ask Him to be present at this simple feast, where there is nothing\nwhich my dear father is not able to pay for.\u201d And no face at the wedding\nlooked brighter than that of little Yusuf; the snow-white pugree above\nthat happy young face needed no border of gold!\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe Pink Chaddar.[27]\n\n\nHear, the story of But\u00e9, the moonshee\u2019s only daughter.\n\nBut\u00e9 had, when she was but a babe in arms, lost her mother, but she was\nto her father as the light of his eyes. The moonshee often went to teach\na Mem Sahiba,[28] whose husband was in government employ. The Mem Sahiba\nwas kind to little But\u00e9; she let her sometimes come to her bungalow, and\ngave her sweetmeats, and once a doll from England. Those were happy days\nto little But\u00e9 when her father, taking her hand, led her to the white\nbungalow in which the Mem Sahiba dwelt.\n\nOne day the Mem Sahiba said to the moonshee: \u201cThe Sahib wishes to go on\na journey into Cashmere, and to take you with him; are you willing to go\nfor six months with the Sahib?\u201d\n\nThe moonshee\u2019s heart was glad, for he had long wished to visit the\nbeautiful Vale of Cashmere; but then trouble came over him like a shadow,\nfor he thought of his little But\u00e9.\n\n\u201cIf I go far from hence,\u201d said he, \u201cwhat will become of my only child?\nBehold, I have but one, and her mother is dead, and I have no sisters who\nwould be to her as a mother. But\u00e9, if I leave her, will be as a stray\nlamb that is found by the jackals.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave no fear for But\u00e9,\u201d the Mem Sahiba made reply; \u201cif it be your wish,\nI will place her in the school at Khushpore, for the Miss Sahiba there is\nmy friend. But\u00e9 shall learn to read and to write, and all that is good\nwill she learn; for the Miss Sahiba is one who fears God, and she dearly\nloves little children.\u201d\n\nAnd thus was it arranged; the moonshee went to Cashmere with the Sahib,\nand little But\u00e9 was sent to the school at Khushpore.\n\nBut\u00e9 shed many tears at parting from her father, but her tears were soon\ndried. The Miss Sahiba looked kindly upon her, and spoke sweet words; and\nthough But\u00e9 was shy at first, and hung down her head in silence, even\nbefore the end of the day she was as merry as the little gray striped\nsquirrel that runs up the trees, and hides in the branches.\n\nBut\u00e9 had now many companions, and soon made friends with them all. Very\nfond was the little girl of talking, and in the hours of play the words\nfrom her tongue flowed on as the brook that runs down from the hills.\nBut\u00e9 liked to speak much of the Mem Sahiba whom none of the other girls\nhad seen, and of the grand things in her house. But\u00e9 did not take any\nheed to speak truth, so that the stream of her words was not pure, but as\na muddy and polluted brook.\n\n\u201cMy Mem Sahiba,\u201d the child would say, \u201chas more shining rings on her\nfingers than there are leaves on that tree. The Sahib is a very great\nman; those who come near him bow down to the ground, and when he goes\nforth he rides on an elephant with a howdah of gold.\u201d[29]\n\nSome of But\u00e9\u2019s companions wondered when they heard her stories, and some\nlaughed and called them _jhuth muth_ (fibs); but when the Miss Sahiba\nheard them she never laughed, but she sighed, and her gentle face grew\ngrave. Often, when alone in her room, the Miss Sahiba would kneel down\nand thus pray to the God in heaven who listens to prayer: \u201cO Lord, show\nmy dear children the shame and the sin of lying! Teach them Thy way of\ntruth; make them holy, for Thou art holy!\u201d\n\nWhen But\u00e9 came to school, she wore a chaddar pink as the petals of a\nrose. The Miss Sahiba did not much like to see this chaddar, for those\nworn by all her other girls were white. But But\u00e9 did not wish to change\nher pink garment for a plain white one.\n\n\u201cI cannot leave off wearing this chaddar,\u201d she said, drawing it closer\nround her slight form. \u201cMy Mem Sahiba gave it to me, and she told me\nalways to wear it.\u201d\n\nThe Miss Sahiba made no reply, but her mind was not at rest. She thought\nto herself,\u2014\u201cI never know whether But\u00e9 be speaking the truth or not. Oh\nthat I could but trust her word! I love my little But\u00e9\u2014she is gentle and\ndocile, quick at her lessons, never cross, and ready to do a kindness to\nany of her companions; but a pleasant child with a deceitful heart is\nlike a fruit that looks fair to the eye, but which is all decayed and\nworthless within.\u201d\n\nThe Miss Sahiba used often to gather the children around her and talk\nwith them when the hours for lessons were over; and much did they like\nto listen. Sometimes she told them of the dear mother whom she had left\nbehind in England, that she might come and teach little Indian children\nthe way to heaven.\n\nThe Miss Sahiba sat in the schoolroom on one hot summer\u2019s day, when the\nweather was too sultry for even her native children to go out, and they\nwere seated on the floor around her. The Miss Sahiba felt weary and\nfaint, for she had come from a land where the heat is never great, and\nthe glow of India was to her almost as that of a fiery furnace. But she\nthought that her dear Lord had given her these children as His little\nlambs to feed, and she was willing to live and even to die far away from\nher own home, if she only might be permitted to lead these children to\nthe Lord Jesus, the Good Shepherd, who gave His life for the sheep.\n\n\u201cI think that there was never a better mother than mine,\u201d said the Miss\nSahiba, as she showed to the children a little picture of her dear parent\nwhich she had just received from England. \u201cMy mother was always kind and\ngood to me, but there were three occasions in my life on which she showed\nthe greatest love; and whenever I recall these occasions to mind, I bless\nGod for having given me such a good mother.\u201d\n\nThe children were eager to hear more, and little But\u00e9, who sat nearest to\nthe feet of the Miss Sahiba, looked up into her face and said, \u201cTell us\nof these three times when the Mem Sahiba in England showed so much love.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you,\u201d replied the Miss Sahiba; \u201cand you shall judge on which\noccasion the greatest love was shown.\n\n\u201cThe first time was when I was sick with the small-pox. Day and night my\ndear mother watched by my bed. If, after feverish sleep, I opened my eyes\nat midnight, there, close at hand, ready with the medicine or cooling\ndrink, I ever saw my beloved mother. But for her tender care, I believe\nthat I should have died. Was it not true love that made her watch over me\nthus?\u201d\n\nThe Miss Sahiba paused, and all the children who had heard her replied,\n\u201cIt was very great love.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe second occasion was this,\u201d the Miss Sahiba went on. \u201cOne evening in\nwinter, when the fire was lighted in our sitting-room, I saw above the\nmantlepiece a picture that had been crookedly hung. It was rather higher\nthan I could reach with my hand, so I brought a stool, and stood upon\nit, that I might set the picture straight. I knew not that my dress, as\nI stood, had touched the fire, until, to my great terror, I found myself\nall in flames! My shrieks brought my mother to my aid. She threw me down\non the floor; she wrapped a thick rug around me; with her own dear\nhands, all scorched and blistered, she put out the fire. Never shall I\nforget how my mother then clasped me to her heart, and wept, and thanked\nGod who had enabled her to save her child from a terrible death. She was\nherself in very great pain from her burns, but she scarcely thought of\nthe pain.\u201d\n\nAgain the Miss Sahiba paused, and one and all of the children said, \u201cThe\nMem Sahiba showed very great love.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the third occasion, of which I am going to tell you,\u201d said the\nEnglish Sahiba, \u201cI think that even greater love was shown, for my mother\nsaved me from something worse than even fever or fire.\u201d\n\nThen every child bent forward to listen, and wondering, thought in her\nheart, \u201cWhat can be worse than fever or fire?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe third time when my mother showed how well she loved me,\u201d continued\nthe Sahiba, \u201cwas\u2014when she gave me a beating for telling a lie!\u201d\n\nThe children were all so much astonished that they could not utter a\nword. They opened their black eyes wide, and stared at the Sahiba. But\u00e9\nbegan to laugh,\u2014it seemed so strange to her that a beating should be\ncalled a proof of great love!\n\n\u201cOh! well, well do I recollect the grief of my mother when she found that\nher little girl had spoken an untruth!\u201d said the Miss Sahiba. \u201cThe pain\nto her heart was worse, far worse, than the pain of the burns had been\nto her hands. She told me, with tears in her eyes, that lying lips are\nan abomination to the Lord, that liars will be shut out from heaven. She\npunished me, but not in anger; oh no, but in very great sorrow and love.\nThen she and I knelt down together to ask God to forgive my great sin. I\ncould not speak because of my sobs; but I heard my mother ask God to blot\nout her child\u2019s sin in the blood of His dear Son, the Lord Jesus Christ,\nthat which alone can wash away sin. My mother prayed\u2014oh, how hard she\nprayed!\u2014while the tears ran down her cheeks, that God, for the sake of\nthe Lord Jesus Christ, would give me His Holy Spirit, to make my sinful\nheart clean, and to guide me into all truth. Dear children, I shall never\nforget that day, either the punishment or the prayer. Thanks to my mother\nwho gave the punishment, thanks to God who heard the prayer, I believe\nthat I have never since that time uttered a lie. Now, tell me, my dear\nchildren, did not my mother do more for me then, did she not show more\ntrue love for me on that sad day, than when she watched me through my\nillness, or saved my life from the flames?\u201d[30]\n\nSome of the girls said \u201cYes;\u201d but one of them whispered softly, \u201cIt does\nnot seem so to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you why I think it,\u201d said the Miss Sahiba, who had heard the\nwhisper. \u201cSin is a worse evil than fever, and the fire of God\u2019s anger\nworse than fire that only burns the body. It was pain to my mother to\npunish me; but she did not shrink from the pain, no more than she shrank\nfrom throwing me down on the floor, or scorching her own hands when she\nwas trying to put out the flames.\u201d\n\nMany of the girls were listening with interest and attention; but the\nMiss Sahiba saw but too well that But\u00e9 did not care for good counsel. The\nchild\u2019s eyes had wandered to the picture which the Miss Sahiba still held\nin her hand; and while others were thinking of the lesson of truth taught\nby the lady, But\u00e9 only asked the trifling question, \u201cIs the frame of that\npicture real gold?\u201d\n\nAlas! that when God\u2019s servants speak of heaven and the way to reach it,\nand of other solemn truths, some who might listen and learn let their\nattention be drawn away by the merest trifles. It is as if a person to\nwhom a diamond is offered should turn away to chase a butterfly; or as\nif one fleeing from a tiger should stop to pluck a flower by the way.\n\nIt was not many days after that on which the Miss Sahiba had told her\nstory, that her first friend, the Mem Sahiba, came to visit the school at\nKhushpore. It is easy to be imagined that But\u00e9 was rejoiced again to see\nher kind friend; and in honour of the visit, the Miss Sahiba promised all\nthe children a feast of fruit.\n\nThe two ladies walked up the room in which the classes were assembled,\nand as they came near the place where But\u00e9 stood with her eyes sparkling\nwith pleasure, the Miss Sahiba said to her friend, \u201cHere is your little\nBut\u00e9, in the pink chaddar which she says that you gave her and told her\nto wear.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never gave her a chaddar of any colour,\u201d said the Mem Sahiba with a\nlook of surprise; \u201cwhat could make the silly child utter such an untruth?\u201d\n\nDo you think that But\u00e9 blushed and hung down her head in shame at having\nbeen found out guilty of lying? Alas! no. But\u00e9 had told so many lies in\nher short life that she felt no sorrow or shame for the sin. She was only\nvexed that the Miss Sahiba should know of her falsehood.\n\nIf But\u00e9 did not care, the Miss Sahiba cared a great deal. She thought,\n\u201cOh, how shall I cure this poor child of her terrible habit?\u201d Then\nturning towards But\u00e9, she said aloud, \u201cBut\u00e9, I grieve to find that you\nhave told me an untruth. I cannot let you share in our feast. Retire to\nthe sleeping-room directly; I should not be your true friend if I passed\nover this matter.\u201d\n\nThen But\u00e9 began to cry; not because of sorrow for sin, but because she\nhad lost the feast, and was sent so early to bed. She clasped her hands,\nand glanced towards her former friend, the Mem Sahiba, as if to entreat\nher intercession; but the lady looked grave and shook her head. She knew\nthat the punishment had been deserved, and that it would be no real\nkindness not to inflict it.\n\nBut still poor But\u00e9, accustomed from her infancy to hear lies, could\nnot but think herself hardly dealt with. Had her lie got any one into\ntrouble, had she slandered a companion, she would have seen that sin had\nbeen committed; \u201cBut what did it signify,\u201d thought she, \u201cwhether I said\ntruly that the chaddar had been given to me by my father; or untruly,\nthat it had been given to me by the Mem Sahiba?\u201d As But\u00e9 turned weeping\nto go to her room, the Miss Sahiba heard her murmur between her sobs,\n\u201cWhy does she make such a fuss? What harm could the lie do? it was such a\nlittle one!\u201d\n\nThe feast of fruit began; plenty of nice k\u00e9las (plantains) were spread on\nthe floor. Some of the girls were sorry for But\u00e9, sent to remain in her\nbed to think over her fault; but soon even these girls forgot the poor\nchild, who could hear from her apartment the sound of their laughter and\nsinging. But\u00e9 lay crying, listening to the children\u2019s voices, and longing\nto join them.\n\nAs the Miss Sahiba, with her friend, sat watching the young people\nenjoying their fruit, she was suddenly startled by a scream from the\nneighbouring room, which was that to which But\u00e9 had been sent in\ndisgrace. The scream expressed violent terror or pain; and the Miss\nSahiba, who loved the child whom she punished, rushed into the room with\nsuch speed to see what could be the matter, that almost before the girls\nhad time to cry, \u201cWhat has happened?\u201d the lady was at the side of her\npoor little charge.\n\nBut\u00e9 was standing on her bed, her face pale with terror, looking at\na small black scorpion which was running across the floor. The Miss\nSahiba\u2019s heel in a moment had crushed the scorpion, and in a quiet,\ncomposed manner she turned to But\u00e9. \u201cWhy did you scream so?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cIt was on my bed\u2014close\u2014quite close to me! I just raised my arm, and it\nfell on the floor,\u201d cried But\u00e9, who was trembling violently from the\neffects of the fright.\n\n\u201cWhy did you make such a fuss?\u201d said the Miss Sahiba, after motioning to\nthe girls, who were crowding into the room, to leave her alone with But\u00e9.\n\n\u201cHow could I help making a fuss?\u201d exclaimed the astonished But\u00e9; \u201cthe\ndreadful thing might have stung me!\u201d\n\n\u201cLikely enough,\u201d said the Miss Sahiba coldly, as she seated herself on\nthe edge of the bed; \u201cbut what harm could it do?\u201d\n\nBut\u00e9 was more and more surprised. \u201cIt was a horrid poisonous creature!\u201d\nshe cried.\n\n\u201cIt was such a _little one_,\u201d said the lady, looking steadfastly into the\nface of the girl.\n\nBut\u00e9 did not know what to make of her teacher taking the matter so\nquietly; she herself was not disposed to take it quietly at all. \u201cI wish\nthat you would have the place searched,\u2014oh, every corner of it!\u201d she\ncried. \u201cI should not wonder if a whole nest of scorpions were hidden in\nsome hole in the wall!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s likely enough,\u201d said the Miss Sahiba quietly; \u201cthis is a season\nfor insects. I saw pretty fire-flies last night; I am going to look for\nthem again in the compound.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou think of fire-flies, when there may be scorpions in this very room!\u201d\nexclaimed But\u00e9. \u201cThe Sahiba does not seem to care for the danger to her\npoor little girl.\u201d\n\nThen the manner of the lady quite altered; the cold, careless look\nchanged to one of earnestness and love. She drew the frightened But\u00e9\nclose to her, held her little trembling hand in one of her own, and with\nthe other pointed to the dead scorpion which lay on the floor.\n\n\u201cO my child!\u201d she cried, \u201csee in that poisonous reptile a type of your\nown sin of untruth. That scorpion could only hurt the body; but falsehood\npoisons the soul. Who but a fool would play with a scorpion and say, \u2018It\nis but a little one,\u2019 instead of crushing it at once! Who but a fool\nwould amuse himself with fire-flies when poisonous reptiles were lurking\nnear! But\u00e9, my poor child, how many lies, more hateful than scorpions,\nhave been suffered to nestle in your bosom and to come forth from your\nlips! And you think me hard and severe because I wish to crush them,\nbecause I warn you against the sin which God hates. You were grieved\nand disappointed at being shut out from a little feast which would soon\nhave been over; but think what it would be to be shut out for ever from\nheaven, from its brightness and glory and joy! And it is written in God\u2019s\nholy Word, _There shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth\nor maketh a lie_.\u201d\n\nThe Miss Sahiba added many more words, and this time they fell on an\nattentive ear. She taught But\u00e9 how to pray for forgiveness of past sin,\nand for the Holy Spirit of God, through whom alone she could conquer\nher sin in the future. Little But\u00e9 learned a prayer before she went to\nsleep that night, and she thought of it the very first thing when her\neyes unclosed in the morning. While But\u00e9 prayed that God would make her\ntruthful and holy, she also tried very hard herself to be truthful and\nholy. Soon all her companions saw a great change in little But\u00e9. Her face\ngrew brighter as her heart grew more pure; for we never are so happy as\nwhen we feel that the smile of the Lord is upon us. No girl in the school\nwas more loved and trusted than she who had once been constantly uttering\nfalsehoods; and when she spoke of anything that had happened, however\nstrange the tale might be, it was instantly believed. It became a common\nsaying amongst those who knew her, \u201cI would rather doubt my own eyes than\nthe word of But\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nThe Story of Three Jewels.\n\n\nHear the parable of three jewels\u2014a Ruby, a Pearl, and a Diamond.\n\nThere lived in a country far beyond the dark waters a mighty Rajah, whose\nname was Kam\u00edl Rah\u00edm (All-merciful). Though his home was so distant, he\nhad sons who dwelt in the land of Hindostan; and the names of these sons\nwere Mul\u00e1 Mal, Bihar\u00ed Lal, Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, and Nih\u00e1l Chand.\n\nOne day the Rajah called one of his servants whose name was Narayan Das\n(Servant of God), and thus he gave him command:\u2014\n\n\u201cGo thou to the land in which dwell my four sons, and speak to them thus:\nThus saith the Father whom ye see not, but who cares for you and loves\nyou, and desires to give treasure to you out of the abundance of his\ngreat riches. Leave the city in which you dwell, cross the river which\nlies to the east, and, by the path of which my servant will tell you,\nreach a certain mountain. There you will behold by the wayside a landmark\nin the shape of a Cross. Dig at the foot of it, and lo! you will find a\ntreasure. There is a jewel which is a royal gift from myself, such as\nnone but myself can bestow. In a setting of pure gold are three gems\u2014a\nruby, of which the name is Pardon; a pearl, of which the name is Purity;\nand a diamond, of which the name is Heaven. He who wears the ruby over\nhis heart will be preserved in danger; he who wears the pearl over his\nheart will be kept in health; he who in the same manner wears the diamond\nwill become the heir to a throne. All the treasures of earth are not\nto be weighed in the balance against these jewels, Pardon, Purity, and\nHeaven.\u201d\n\nThe servant Narayan Das prostrated himself before his great Master, and\nsaid, \u201cThe will of my Lord shall be obeyed.\u201d Narayan Das had a happy\nhome, but he went forth from it; he had parents whom he loved, but he\nbade them farewell. The sea was wide and the waves were rough, but he\nfeared not to cross them; lo! he had good tidings to bear to the sons of\nhis Lord, and the joy of bearing them repaid him for all the toils and\ndangers of the journey before him.\n\nAfter a long and stormy voyage, the messenger from the Father reached the\nland of Hindostan; and a few days afterwards he arrived at the city in\nwhich the four brothers dwelt, even Mul\u00e1 Mal, Bihar\u00ed Lal, Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, and\nNih\u00e1l Chand. Narayan Das was weary and faint, but he would not rest till\nhe had inquired the way to the dwelling of Mul\u00e1 Mal, who was the eldest\nof the four brothers, who lived in different quarters of the same city.\n\nWhen the messenger entered the presence of Mul\u00e1 Mal, he saw in him a man\nwho had upon his brow the spot which marked a worshipper of the goddess\nKal\u00ed.[31] It was the morning of a great festival, and Mul\u00e1 Mal was about\nto set forth to bathe in the Ganges,[32] and to do puja (worship) to the\nidol whom he adored.\n\n\u201cO Mul\u00e1 Mal!\u201d cried Narayan Das, \u201cI bring to you good tidings from your\ngreat and all-merciful Father. There is a treasure hidden for you at the\nfoot of a Cross, and I can direct you how to find it. But you must set\nforth at once, or, behold! another may take the treasure, and you may\nlose for ever the opportunity of gaining these jewels, Pardon, Purity,\nand Heaven.\u201d\n\nBut Mul\u00e1 Mal thought scorn of the faithful messenger, because he was not\nin face or garb as one of the people of Hindostan.\n\n\u201cWho art thou, O man of the pale cheek and red beard?\u201d he cried; \u201cand\nwhat dost thou ask at my hand?\u201d[33]\n\n\u201cI am a servant of Kam\u00edl Rah\u00edm, and your friend; and I come, not to take\nfrom you, but to give to you,\u201d replied Narayan Das; \u201cyea, I have risked\nmy life to bring to you good tidings from afar.\u201d\n\n\u201cI care not for thy tidings, nor do I believe thy word,\u201d cried Mul\u00e1 Mal\nwith contempt. \u201cWhy dost thou delay me, when I am about to do puja to my\ngreat goddess?\u201d\n\n\u201cO my lord,\u201d cried Narayan Das earnestly, \u201cthere is no image made by\nthe hands of man that can bestow on its worshipper Pardon, Purity, and\nHeaven. Wherefore will my lord not listen? Will he spurn from him the\nrichest of treasures,\u2014even treasures that will, if worn over the heart,\npreserve him in danger, keep him in health, and make him the heir to a\nthrone? Read but this letter from your Father, and see in it the truth of\nall that I have spoken;\u201d and Narayan Das drew from his bosom a book on\nwhich was inscribed these words: \u201cThe Holy Scriptures.\u201d\n\n\u201cAway with thy book!\u201d cried the worshipper of Kal\u00ed; \u201cI desire not thy\njewels, nor will I listen to thee.\u201d\n\nAt that moment there was heard a loud noise of drumming and shouting;\na great multitude was about to pour forth from the city to worship the\nidol. And with the multitude Mul\u00e1 Mal went forth: he had despised the\nmessage of his Father; he had lost the treasure which had been freely\noffered to him,\u2014even Pardon, Purity, and Heaven.\n\nNarayan Das sighed deeply. \u201cAlas!\u201d he cried, \u201cwoe is me that the ear\nshould be closed to the voice of friendship, and that the eye should\nbe turned away from the gift of a Father\u2019s love! But if my message be\nrejected by the first brother, it may find a place in the heart of the\nsecond.\u201d\n\nBy mere inquiries Narayan Das found the house of the second son, Bihar\u00ed\nLal.\n\nBihar\u00ed Lal was a more sensible man than Mul\u00e1 Mal, and he did not think\nscorn of the messenger, nor of the message, as his brother had done.\n\n\u201cSurely,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cno light cause would have made this good\nman leave his country, travel so great a distance, and go through so many\ndangers to bring good tidings to me. Perhaps in the place of which he\ntells me this treasure may really be hidden. Would it not be wisdom in me\nat least to read the letter which he says that my Father has written, and\nto try whether the jewels Pardon, Purity, and Heaven may not be found at\nthe foot of the Cross?\u201d\n\nNarayan Das saw with joy that Bihar\u00ed Lal was not as the deaf adder that\nwill not hear the voice of the charmer. He was not as the blind man who\nsits hungry beneath the date-tree, and who knows not that its clusters of\nfruit are within his reach.\n\n\u201cOh haste, my lord!\u201d cried the messenger; \u201cfor if you delay, who knows\nwhether you may not lose for ever the ruby, the pearl, and the diamond\nwhich are freely offered to you by your Father!\u201d\n\nBut Bihar\u00ed Lal made reply: \u201cI cannot and I will not set forth at once,\nnor have I time at present even to read the letter of my Father. Bales\nof merchandise have just arrived from Persia; I must examine their\ncontents. I have many friends in the city, and I have invited them all to\na banquet. Business takes up my time, and what is left from business is\nfilled up by amusement. Go your way now, O messenger! perhaps when I have\nnothing else to do I may seek from you guidance to the place where I may\nfind the ruby, the pearl, and the diamond, in their setting of gold.\u201d\n\nThus absorbed in the business and cares of this world, the man went on\nhis way. Alas! never, never was he to possess the treasure which he\ndelayed to search for! On the very day on which he concluded a bargain\nwhich made him the richest merchant in the city, even on the night on\nwhich he had feasted at the house of a prince, he was smitten down by\ncholera. Bihar\u00ed Lal died in much suffering; his body was burned, and\nhis ashes were cast into the Ganges. Never did he find the treasures of\nPardon, Purity, and Heaven! The acceptable time for Bihar\u00ed Lal had passed\nfor ever away!\n\nThen Narayan Das found his way to the house of Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, who was the\nthird of the brothers who dwelt in that city.\n\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m was a man of a pleasant countenance and of an open heart. When\nhe heard of his Father\u2019s love, his whole face brightened; and when he saw\nhis Father\u2019s letter, he pressed it first to his heart and then to his\nbrow. Nay, Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m read enough of the letter to feel sure that Narayan\nDas was a true messenger, and that at the foot of the Cross he was\nindeed sure to find the treasures of Pardon, Purity, and Heaven. Gladly\ndid Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m welcome the messenger who had come so far to bring good\ntidings, and eagerly he asked his way to the place where the jewels were\nburied.\n\n\u201cWill you accompany me thither?\u201d asked Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m of Narayan Das.\n\nThe messenger shook his head. \u201cI will show you the road, but you must\ntread it alone,\u201d replied Narayan Das. \u201cFear not if you find it rough and\nthorny at first. Courage and perseverance are required of him who would\ngain the treasures; has any one ever yet conquered a kingdom by idly\nsleeping on a bed of roses? Go forth boldly, O Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m! And forget not\nto take with you the staff of Prayer; without its help you will never\novercome all the difficulties of the way.\u201d\n\nThe countenance of Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m grew grave when he reflected on these\ndifficulties, for he was not a man of a resolute will. It needed much\nperseverance on the part of Narayan Das to make Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m so much as\nstart on his journey, though he did not doubt the worth of the prize\nwhich he went forth to seek.\n\nAnd when Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m set forth at last, he was as one who seeth the eyes of\na wild beast glaring behind every bush; he was full of cowardly fears.\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m shrank back even from shadows; and when sharp stones wounded\nhis feet, he first felt inclined to sit down and weep, and then to turn\nback and return to his home. Yet some words in his Father\u2019s letter gave\na little courage to Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m:\u2014_I will not fail thee nor forsake thee;\nbe strong and of a good courage_ (Josh. i. 5, 6). _Know ye not that they\nwhich run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye\nmay obtain_ (1 Cor. ix. 24).\n\nAt last the traveller came to the stream which it was needful that he\nshould cross; and the name of that stream was Baptism. The waters were\nbright and pure, but the banks were steep; and Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m saw that a plant\nwith exceedingly sharp thorns grew thickly upon those banks, and the name\nof the plant was Persecution.[34]\n\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m sat down on a stone on the top of the nearer bank, and wrung\nhis hands and beat his breast, and groaned in the heaviness of his spirit.\n\n\u201cOh, is there no other way than that of crossing this river of Baptism,\u201d\nhe cried, \u201cby which I can reach the treasures offered to me by my\nFather,\u2014even the rich jewels which, worn over the heart, will bring\nsafety to the soul, health to the soul, and the crown of eternal life? I\ndare not\u2014oh, I dare not go forward! I would rather lose that which I feel\nto be indeed above all price, than encounter those dreadful thorns. Alas,\nthat the thorny plant of Persecution should shut me out from the waters\nof Baptism!\u201d\n\nThen Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m thought that he heard a voice, sweeter than the voice of\nan angel; and it said,\u2014_Fear not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed,\nfor I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I\nwill uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness_ (Isa. xli. 10).\n_Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life_ (Rev.\nii. 10).\n\nWith fresh energy and hope Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m arose and attempted to descend the\nbank in order to cross over the river; but, alas, he dropped the staff of\nPrayer, and did not stoop to lift it again! Without that staff he had not\nthe strength to force his way through the thorns of Persecution. Tuls\u00ed\nR\u00e1m tried to press on for a time, but the thorns tore his garments and\nwounded his flesh. His feet were bleeding and sore, and his courage at\nlast utterly failed him. When Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m had gone half-way down the bank\nhe stopped, groaned, hesitated, and then turned back. Alas, for him who\nhad dropped the staff of Prayer! alas, for him who had lost the jewels\nfor which he longed, because he had not the courage and perseverance to\nwin them!\n\nAs Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m was sadly returning to the city, he met his youngest\nbrother, Nih\u00e1l Chand. He beheld Nih\u00e1l Chand hurrying on with a firm step\ntowards the river of Baptism; he looked not to the right hand nor to the\nleft, for his was a resolute spirit.\n\n\u201cHow is it that thou art turning back, O Tuls\u00ed?\u201d he cried, when he\nsaw his brother. \u201cI knew that thou didst start before me, but I hoped\nby quick walking to overtake thee, so that we might together find the\npriceless treasures, the glad tidings of which have been brought to thee\nas well as to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, my brother!\u201d replied Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, with a deep sigh, \u201cI turn back\nbecause of the difficulties o\u00a3 the road. If no thorns of Persecution grew\nby the river of Baptism, surely ere now I should have crossed it; but see\nhow my flesh has been torn!\u201d\n\n\u201cPardon, Purity, and Heaven,\u2014the ruby, the pearl, and the diamond,\u2014are\nworth a little struggle and a little pain,\u201d said the resolute Nih\u00e1l\nChand. \u201cThough there were a lion in the way, he should not stay me. It is\nwritten in the Book of my Father,\u2014_Though an host should encamp against\nme, my heart shall not fear_.\u201d\n\n\u201cO Nih\u00e1l!\u201d cried the timid-spirited Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, \u201cI am not as thou art; yet\nif it be my destiny to wear the jewels,[35] surely they will be mine,\neven though I remain on this side of the waters of Baptism. All is not\nin my own hands; who can oppose the decrees of Fate?\u201d\n\n\u201cDeceive not thyself, nor excuse thy own sloth by talking about Fate!\u201d\nexclaimed Nih\u00e1l Chand. \u201cIf, when thou wert preparing thy meal, a tiger\nwere to steal upon thee, wouldst thou quietly sit still and say,\u2014\u2018If it\nbe my destiny, I shall eat this dinner;\u2019 or, \u2018If it be my destiny, the\ntiger will eat me\u2019? No,\u201d continued Nih\u00e1l Chand with much animation; \u201cthou\nwouldst start up, snatch the nearest weapon, and struggle for life like\na man. Even so, with courage and resolution, press on for the prize set\nbefore thee.\u201d\n\nBut Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m only mournfully shook his head, and with a slow step and a\nheavy heart returned to the city.\n\n\u201cHe is a poor, weak creature,\u201d muttered Nih\u00e1l Chand, \u201cand not worthy to\nwear the jewels which he has not the courage to seek. I will go forward\nwithout him.\u201d\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand was indeed a very different man from any of his three\nbrothers. He had more wisdom than Mul\u00e1 Mal, and his acute mind saw at\nonce the folly of bowing down to idols of wood and stone. Nih\u00e1l Chand was\nnot, like Bihar\u00ed Lal, inclined to waste precious time in delay, and to\ngive up his whole soul to the cares of this perishing world. And Nih\u00e1l\nChand, unlike Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, had a firm and fearless spirit, and a will as\nstrong as iron. No thorns of Persecution could stay the resolute man; he\npressed through them as one who is shod with brass. And when Nih\u00e1l Chand\nhad passed the waters of Baptism, with what pleasure he looked back and\nsmiled! Then, feeling that the worst of his trials was over, on Nih\u00e1l\nhastened towards the hill, which was soon in sight. He could now see, at\nno great distance, the Cross at the foot of which the treasure lay buried\nwhich had been given to him by his Father.\n\nOn the way Nih\u00e1l Chand was joined by a stranger, who appeared to be\ntravelling in the same direction. The man was of very dark complexion,\nbut gaily dressed, and his name was Temptation.\n\nAfter the usual salutation, Temptation thus addressed Nih\u00e1l Chand,\u2014\n\n\u201cBrave and noble hero, the fame of your courage hath spread far and wide,\nand has reached the ears of your servant. I have beheld from afar with\nwhat resolution you passed through the thorns of Persecution as if they\nhad been soft grass. Worthy are you of the priceless jewels which will\nso soon be in your grasp. How different are you from your superstitious\nand worldly brothers, and how superior to the weak and cowardly Tuls\u00ed\nR\u00e1m! Allow me to be your companion, that, though I never myself can\npossess them, I may at least have a sight of the ruby, the pearl, and the\ndiamond, that are to the soul Pardon, Purity, and Heavenly Glory!\u201d\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand had at first suspected the stranger to be a thief in\ndisguise, and had stood on his guard against him; but the honey of\nflattering words is sweet. The ears of Nih\u00e1l Chand were so charmed by the\npraise that flowed from the lips of Temptation, that he now suffered him\nto walk by his side as if he had been a familiar friend.\n\nThus journeying together, the two men reached the foot of the Cross.\nNih\u00e1l Chand had not forgotten to take with him a spade for digging, and\nnow with energy he set to the task of removing the earth. Temptation\nstood by watching him, and praising his vigour now, as he before had\npraised his courage.\n\nBefore Nih\u00e1l Chand had laboured long, his spade struck against something\nhard. He stooped and lifted up from the earth a little casket of purest\ngold. Opening this, he beheld within the priceless jewels,\u2014the ruby, the\npearl, and the diamond,\u2014joined together in one setting of gold.\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand closely examined the prize. Round the ruby, in characters\nof surpassing fineness, were engraved the words,\u2014_Thy sins be\nforgiven thee_ (Matt. ix. 2). Round the pearl, Purity, appeared the\ninscription,\u2014_Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord_ (Heb.\nxii. 14). And in delicate letters appeared round the diamond,\u2014_It is your\nFather\u2019s good pleasure to give you the kingdom_ (Luke xii. 32).\n\nTemptation looked with envy and desire on the precious jewels in the\nhands of Nih\u00e1l Chand, though not yet worn over his heart. Much did\nTemptation wish to rob of them the brave man who had come through such\ndifficulties to obtain them; but Nih\u00e1l Chand was courageous and strong,\nand Temptation knew that he had not a chance of getting the jewels by\nforce. He therefore had recourse to cunning.\n\n\u201cThe ornament is very beautiful,\u201d said the treacherous stranger, bending\nforward as if to examine it. \u201cGrand is the blood-red ruby, and happy is\nhe to whom free pardon for sin is given.\u201d\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand smiled as he made reply,\u2014\u201cOf great value is the ruby; none\nbut its possessor can know real peace. Blessed is he whose sins are\nforgiven\u2014he who fears not the judgment of God.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd splendid is the diamond,\u201d observed Temptation; \u201cHeaven is indeed\nsuch a prize as the mightiest might glory in winning.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied the exulting Nih\u00e1l Chand,\u2014who, when he passed the waters\nof Baptism, had assumed the new name of Christian; \u201cit is a glorious\nthing to be made an inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, to my mind,\u201d observed crafty Temptation, \u201cthis pale pearl set\nbetween the ruby and the diamond rather mars the beauty of the whole\nornament. The gift would be better without it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet it adds to its value,\u201d observed Nih\u00e1l Chand; \u201cis not the health of\nthe soul a thing to be prized?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour health is most perfect,\u201d said the crafty deceiver; \u201che who carouses\nat a banquet cares not to put medicine into his cup. Behold the strength\nof your arm and the firmness of your step! You need no health beyond what\nyou already possess. Look again at the jewel, my lord, and say whether\nyou would not prefer the glowing ruby Pardon, and the sparkling diamond\nHeaven, apart from Purity the white pearl?\u201d\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand looked again and again, and every time that he looked he\ncared less for the pearl, though this, as well as the other jewels, had\nbeen offered to him by his Father.\n\nTemptation now drew from his bosom a paper; he opened it, and displayed\nto view a yellow stone, which to the eyes of Nih\u00e1l Chand looked very\nbeautiful, though, in truth, it was but a worthless bit of coloured glass.\n\n\u201cMy heart is so drawn towards your honour,\u201d said crafty Temptation,\n\u201cthat I am willing to do for you what I would do for no other man. I am\nwilling to exchange this precious yellow stone, of which the name is\nPleasure, for your dull, pale pearl, Purity. I am of great experience\nin the art of setting stones; give but your consent, O my lord, and the\nexchange at once shall be made.\u201d\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand doubted and hesitated. In his secret heart he preferred\nPleasure to Purity; yet something within him whispered that it would be\nboth foolish and wrong to part with any portion of the gift of his Father.\n\nWhen Temptation saw that the Christian Nih\u00e1l Chand hesitated, he knew\nthat his own object was half gained already. Temptation turned the false\nstone, Pleasure, in every direction, so that the light should sparkle\nupon it. Again, in terms of contempt, he spoke of Purity, the pearl, as\nbeing only fit for women to wear.\n\nAt last Nih\u00e1l Chand was persuaded to change the pearl for the bit of\ncoloured glass. \u201cBe careful,\u201d said he, \u201cin removing the pearl, not to\ninjure my ruby or my diamond. I care not much for Purity of heart; but\nPardon for the past and Heaven for the future are possessions with which\nI never will part.\u201d\n\nO foolish boast! O worse than foolish deed! Scarcely had Nih\u00e1l Chand\ntrusted his treasure into the hands of Temptation, ere the treachery of\nthe thief was made clear. The deceiver suddenly darted down the hill,\nat such speed that the weary Nih\u00e1l Chand, startled and surprised, had\nno power to follow. Very soon the deceiver, who had carried off the\npriceless treasure, was lost to view.\n\nWith bitter shame and grief Nih\u00e1l Chand now returned on his steps,\nfeeling like a lost and ruined man. Oh that he had had but the wisdom\nto know that purity of character, the health of the soul, is never to\nbe divided from pardon of sin and the promise of heaven, so freely and\nlovingly offered by God, the all-merciful Father! Christ came to save us\nfrom the power as well as from the punishment of our sins.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nO reader, have you understood the meaning of my parable, the lesson which\nis to the story even what the kernel is to the nutshell?\n\nAsk your own heart whether you yourself resemble any one of the four men\nwhose story you now have heard. Have you, like Mul\u00e1 Mal, refused even to\nlisten to the messenger who would bring you good tidings of pardon and\npeace through Christ, who came to seek and to save the lost? Will you\nnot even read the Scriptures, to see for yourselves whether the message\nbe true? Do you stop your ears and harden your heart when God\u2019s servant\ncomes to tell you of pardon, purity, and heaven, freely offered to man?\n\nOr are you, like Bihar\u00ed Lal, almost persuaded that the good tidings are\nindeed true; and yet, are you inclined to leave the matters that concern\nthe soul to a more convenient season? Are you setting your heart on your\nmerchandise or any worldly gains, when Death, the black camel that kneels\nat every man\u2019s door, may even now, with noiseless tread, be approaching\nyours? Alas! remember the Saviour\u2019s solemn warning,\u2014_What shall it profit\na man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? or what shall a\nman give in exchange for his soul?_\n\nOr are you, like Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, a sincere believer in the gift of God, and\none who heartily desires to obtain pardon for sin, purity of heart,\nand heavenly bliss when this short life shall be over? And yet, do you\nlack courage to take the decisive step which may cause your soul to\nbe wounded by persecution, the step which will perhaps divide you for\never from all that on earth you hold most dear? Do you think that you\ncan keep back from Christian baptism, and yet secure the Christian\u2019s\nblessing? O weak and trembling believer, forget not the words of Christ\nthe Lord,\u2014_Whosoever shall confess Me before men, him shall the Son of\nman also confess before the angels of God. Blessed are they that are\npersecuted for righteousness\u2019 sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven._\n\nBut you may be, O reader, one who has bravely passed through the waters\nof Baptism\u2014you may be one who is now called by the name of Christian.\nAt the foot of the Cross you may have found the treasure which is more\nprecious than all besides. You may have the knowledge of the way to\neternal life, you may believe in the Son of God, and you may be resting\nyour hopes of heaven upon His finished work. But even now, oh, stand on\nyour guard, for Temptation is near! An enemy, even Satan, is beside you,\nwho would persuade you that every one who has been baptized is safe,\neven if his faith (_not living faith_) work no change in his life. The\nman who is willing to divide purity from pardon and heaven, will, like\nNih\u00e1l Chand, _lose all of the three_! He who wilfully throws away the\nwhite pearl, has lost the ruby and the diamond! For thus saith the Holy\nSaviour, He who is Truth, Righteousness, and Love,\u2014_Not every one that\nsaith unto Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he that\ndoeth the will of my Father which is in heaven_.\n\nO reader, may God give to you grace to take the Holy Scriptures in\nyour right hand, and the staff of Prayer in your left. May He so guide\nyou by His Holy Spirit, which is promised in answer to prayer, that you\nmay fearlessly and faithfully go on your way, treading under foot the\nthorns that lie in your path! And may He enable you not only to find,\nbut to hold fast to the end, and wear in your heart, the priceless\ntreasures\u2014even free pardon for every past sin, the promise of a heavenly\ncrown, and that purity of life by which every true Christian must seek to\nglorify God!\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nJewels Found.\n\nA SEQUEL TO THE STORY OF THREE JEWELS.\n\n\nWith a very heavy heart and sorrowful countenance a man of the name of\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m sat in his dwelling. He found no rest by night and no pleasure\nby day. His hookah[36] brought him no sense of repose. He cared not to go\nforth to visit his friends. Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m scarcely touched the food placed\nbefore him by Juwal\u00ed his wife.\n\nThe heart of the gentle Juwal\u00ed was very closely knit to that of her\nhusband. She was as the creeping plant which throws its tendrils round\nthe tall tree; and as the leaves of the two are mingled together, so\nuntil now had the thoughts and hopes of Juwal\u00ed been mingled with those of\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m. Happy the man who has such a wife as Juwal\u00ed!\n\nThe gentle woman had long watched in silence the sorrow of her husband;\nshe had sighed when she heard him sigh, and grieved because she beheld\nhim grieve. At last Juwal\u00ed could keep silence no longer.\n\n\u201cWhy is my lord so sorrowful?\u201d she said; \u201cwhy has sleep fled from his\neyes? and wherefore doth he put away food from him? To share the troubles\nof my lord, would be to me a dearer privilege than to enjoy all kinds of\npleasures in an ivory palace.\u201d\n\nThen Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m opened his heart to his wife, for he had none other in\nwhom he could safely confide. \u201cKnow, O Juwal\u00ed!\u201d said he, \u201cthat some time\nsince, from beyond the dark water, there came a messenger from my great\nFather, Kam\u00edl Rah\u00edm,\u2014that Father whom I never have seen, but who loves\nme with exceeding great love. This messenger, whose name is Narayan Das,\nbrought to me and to my three brothers, Mul\u00e1 Mal, Bihar\u00ed Lal, and Nih\u00e1l\nChand, the following message:\u2014\n\n\u201cI bring to you, O brothers! good tidings from your great and merciful\nFather, who ever careth for His children. There is a treasure hidden for\nyou at the foot of a Cross, even jewels of priceless value,\u2014a ruby called\nPardon, a pearl called Purity, and a diamond called Heaven. The three\njewels are joined together in one setting of gold, and never must be\ndivided one from another. He who wears these jewels over his heart will\nhave safety in danger, perfect health, and become the heir to a glorious\nthrone. The treasure is a free gift from your Father, and each one of you\nwho shall seek for it in the right way shall possess it for his own.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese are wonderful tidings indeed!\u201d exclaimed Juwal\u00ed; \u201cbut did my lord\nand his brothers believe them?\u201d\n\n\u201cMul\u00e1 Mal would not believe,\u201d replied Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m; \u201che would not so much as\nlisten to Narayan Das, or read the letter which the messenger had brought\nto him from our Father;\u201d and Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, as he spoke, laid his hand on a\nbook called the Bible, which Juwal\u00ed had often heard him reading aloud to\nhimself. \u201cBihar\u00ed Lal, on the contrary, believed the brave and earnest man\nwho had left his native land, and come through trials and dangers, to\nbring good tidings to us. But my second brother\u2019s heart was set on his\nmerchandise and his business, and he put off seeking for the treasure\ntill a more convenient season.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried Juwal\u00ed, \u201cin the midst of all his cares and his pleasures,\npoor Bihar\u00ed Lal was smitten by cholera, and he passed away from earth,\neven as the rain sinks in the sand and is seen no more.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I stood by the funeral-pile of Bihar\u00ed Lal,\u201d said Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, \u201cI\nresolved in my heart that I would not delay searching for the treasure\nas my poor brother had done. I girded myself and set out on my journey.\nGreat was my desire to wear over my heart the jewels of Pardon, Purity,\nand Heaven.\u201d\n\nJuwal\u00ed did not venture to ask, \u201cAnd did my lord find them?\u201d\u2014for she saw\nby the anguish written on his face that Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m had never possessed the\ntreasure.\n\n\u201cBut I found the journey to be one of exceeding difficulty,\u201d continued\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m with a sigh. \u201cTo possess myself of the promised jewels, I had\nto cross a river called Baptism, to pass which was to break my caste;\nand I could not reach it without descending, with much danger and pain,\na very steep bank. On this bank grows thickly that plant with exceeding\nsharp thorns whose name is Persecution, and briers whose names are Loss\nand Contempt. Juwal\u00ed, I went some steps forward; but then I stopped\nshort, for I could not, I dared not go further! The thorns and briers had\ntorn my garments and wounded my flesh. I groaned in the anguish of my\nspirit. Great as was my longing to possess Pardon, Purity, and Heaven, I\ncould not endure the suffering through which I must pass to win them.\nI turned back, O wretched man that I am! I turned back;\u201d and Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m\ngroaned aloud.\n\nTears dropped from the eyes of Juwal\u00ed. She had heard enough of the\nFather\u2019s letter, from the lips of her husband, to feel sure that the\ntreasure which he had lost was one of priceless value. Juwal\u00ed had even,\nwith great pains, learned to read a little herself from the Book which\nher husband prized, and she had thought much, by night and by day, over\nwhat she had heard and read.\n\n\u201cWhat makes my shame and grief all the greater,\u201d continued Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m\nafter a pause, \u201cis to know that my brave and noble youngest brother,\nNih\u00e1l Chand, has done what I dared not do. He trampled down the thorns\nunder his feet; he heeded not the briers of Loss and Contempt; he pressed\non as a strong racer who seeth the goal near, and already heareth the\nshouts of those who will behold him lay his hand on the prize. He was as\na hero who flincheth not in the day of battle. Nih\u00e1l Chand burst through\nPersecution; he crossed the waters of Baptism; and now, without doubt, he\nis wearing the Father\u2019s gift, all his sins pardoned, his virtues shining\nforth in his life, and his spirit rejoicing in hope of a crown to be worn\nfor ever and ever. I, on the contrary, a wretched coward, shall bewail\nmy weakness to the end of my days, and shall at last perish without\npardon, and sink into outer darkness.\u201d\n\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m smote his breast, for he felt as a criminal who heareth the\nsentence of death. Then Juwal\u00ed who sat at her husband\u2019s feet, lifted up\nher mild eyes and spake thus:\u2014\n\n\u201cO my lord! surely it is not too late to do now what Nih\u00e1l Chand has\ndone; it is not too late to arise and go forth to seek the treasure. My\nlord will take yon staff of Prayer in his hand, and with it beat down\nsome of the briers and thorns. It is far better to have the flesh torn\nthan the heart broken; it is better to suffer for a short space than to\nbe wretched for ever.\u201d\n\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m listened with some surprise to such brave words from the\nlips of a woman. Then said he, \u201cBehold, I see _two_ staffs of Prayer.\nWherefore should two be provided?\u201d\n\nThen Juwal\u00ed blushed and drooped her head, as in a low voice she replied,\n\u201cI, even I, am ready to go with my lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou!\u201d exclaimed the astonished husband. \u201cCanst thou, feeble woman,\nendure the thorns of Persecution and the briers of Contempt? Hast thou\nno regard for thy caste? Thou art weak, and a stranger to the dangers of\nthe world; thou hast ever been sheltered from all troubles, as the pearl\nshut closely up in its shell.\u201d\n\nJuwal\u00ed grasped the staff, and said, though with a trembling voice,\u2014\u201cI am\nweak, but I can lean hard upon Prayer. As for troubles, will it not be a\njoy to share them with my dear lord? Let all my neighbours despise me,\nso that I be but fair in his eyes. As regards caste, surely the highest\ncaste of all is to belong to the family of the Great King. O my lord,\nlet us set forth at once; let us cross the river of Baptism together! I\nam but a woman; but I have learned from that blessed Book that the great\nFather loves His daughters as well as His sons; and who knows whether\neven for me some gift may not be reserved? Unworthy as I am even to look\nupon them, may not I too, possibly, receive the jewels of Pardon, Purity,\nand Heaven?\u201d\n\nThen Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, as from a sudden impulse, sprang to his feet. \u201cShall a\nwoman be ready to leave all, and dare all, and suffer all,\u201d he exclaimed;\n\u201cand shall a man shrink back like a coward! O Juwal\u00ed, light of my eyes!\nthy voice is like the voice of hope to thy husband. I will follow the\nexample of my brave brother; come what may, we will cross the waters of\nBaptism.\u201d\n\nVery early in the following morning, before the sun had risen, Tuls\u00ed\nR\u00e1m and Juwal\u00ed, each with a staff of Prayer in hand, and the husband\nwith the Book in his bosom, started from their home and commenced their\njourney. The earth was glowing in the bright light of the sun before they\nreached the top of the bank which overlooked the river of Baptism. By\nthis time the slender frame of Juwal\u00ed was weary; but she leaned on her\nstaff, and looked now tenderly at the husband whose steps she followed,\nnow on the glorious sky above her. Juwal\u00ed thought of Pardon, Purity, and\nHeaven, and then she forgot her weariness. Till now Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m had walked\non in front; but he stopped on the top of the bank, and let his wife come\nup with him. He feared that she would never have strength to pass through\nthe terrible thorns of Persecution. Tuls\u00ed\u2019s own heart was again failing\nhim; but when he looked sadly and anxiously at Juwal\u00ed, she met his look\nwith a smile.\n\n\u201cWilt thou not wait and rest a while?\u201d asked the husband.\n\n\u201cOh no; I am ready at once to go with my lord,\u201d replied Juwal\u00ed, so\ncheerfully that the soul of Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m was filled with wonder. Beholding\nthe courage of a woman, his own greatly revived.\n\nTogether the two began to descend the bank. Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m was so anxious\nabout his wife that he scarcely felt how the thorns were tearing his\nown flesh. Never had Juwal\u00ed been so dear to the soul of her husband\nas now, when, in a woman with weak frame but brave spirit, he beheld\nhis fellow-heir of eternal life; no mere plaything or slave, but the\ncompanion of his dangers, the sharer of all his trials. Juwal\u00ed suffered\neven more than did her husband. After the fashion of Indian women, Juwal\u00ed\nwore many rings in her ears;[37] and the briers and thorns caught in\nthese rings, so that the wearer\u2019s course was stayed, and she was as a\nprisoner fastened in bonds. Tears gushed from the woman\u2019s eyes. Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m\ntried to lend his aid to release his wife, but only himself became more\npainfully entangled in the sharp thorns.\n\n\u201cO Juwal\u00ed! what can we do?\u201d exclaimed Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m.\n\nJuwal\u00ed\u2019s answer was in her act. She lifted up her small bleeding hands,\nand broke off one by one the ear-rings which hindered her progress, and\nleft them hanging upon the thorns.\n\n\u201cSee, I am free!\u201d she cried, smiling, as Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, by a desperate\neffort, also released himself from the briers.\n\n\u201cThou art losing thy jewels, O beloved!\u201d said the pitying husband.\n\n\u201cI seek better and brighter jewels,\u201d replied Juwal\u00ed. \u201cShall I regret\nthese baubles if I ever possess the ruby of Pardon, the pearl of Purity,\nand the diamond of Heaven?\u201d\n\nAnd so the two travellers reached at last the bottom of the bank,\npanting, weary, pierced with thorns, but still not seriously hurt. The\nwaters of Baptism flowed before Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m and Juwal\u00ed. Hand-in-hand the\nhusband and wife passed through those clear waters, the coolness of which\nafforded to them wondrous refreshment. Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m had grasped the hand of\nhis wife to help her across, but Juwal\u00ed scarcely needed his help. When\nthey reached the opposite bank, Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m looked at Juwal\u00ed, and lo! never\nbefore had her face shone with such heavenly beauty! It was even as the\nbrightness of the moon when the clouds have passed away, and her silver\nlight falls softly on earth. And never to Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m had Juwal\u00ed\u2019s voice\nsounded so sweet as when she exclaimed, \u201cO lord of my heart! the river is\npassed. Let us rejoice and give thanks.\u201d\n\nThe opposite bank was less steep, though still made difficult of\nascent by the thorns of Persecution. But the spirit of Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m had\nnow acquired fresh courage. Having once crossed the river which he\nhad dreaded, and having found in it nothing to harm him, but only\nrefreshment, Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m felt all his strength return. Cheerfully he lent\nhis aid to the weary but happy Juwal\u00ed, and the two soon stood at the top\nof the bank, from which their glad eyes could see the Cross on the hill.\n\n\u201cOur treasure is yonder, and it will soon be ours!\u201d exclaimed Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m.\n\nScarcely had he uttered the words when he and his wife were startled by\nthe sound of a terrible groan,\u2014such a groan as is uttered only by one in\nmortal anguish or pain.\n\n\u201cLook yonder, my lord,\u201d cried Juwal\u00ed; \u201cthere is a man lying beneath yon\npalm-tree. Perhaps he is wounded or dying; hark to his terrible groans!\u201d\n\nAt the sound of her voice the poor wretch half raised himself from the\nground, so that Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m could behold his face. Distorted by pain as was\nthat face, with what surprise and distress did Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m recognize in his\nfeatures those of his brave brother, Nih\u00e1l Chand.\n\n\u201cCan it be! Yes, surely it is my own brother,\u201d exclaimed Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m,\nhastening towards the spot.\n\nIt was indeed poor Nih\u00e1l Chand who, in a state of weakness and suffering,\nwas lying under the tree. He feebly held out his arms, and was soon in\nthe embrace of Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m.\n\n\u201cWhat ails my brother?\u2014he who is twice my brother\u2014for have we not both\npassed through the waters of Baptism; are we not both Christians?\u201d cried\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m,\u2014\u201cthough you were a Christian before me.\u201d Christian is the new\nname given to those who have passed through the river.\n\n\u201cOh, call me not Christian!\u201d exclaimed the miserable Nih\u00e1l Chand; \u201cI am\nnot worthy of the name.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat has happened; what have you done?\u201d exclaimed Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m with\nanxiety, for he saw that the anguish of his brother was great.\n\nIt was some little time before Nih\u00e1l Chand was able to tell his sad\nstory. His head drooped on his breast with shame. His brother wondered\nthat one who had so bravely crossed the river of Baptism should now\nappear so weak and wretched. At last Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m inquired, \u201cCould my\nbrother not find the jewels, the gift of our Father,\u2014even the ruby, the\npearl, and the diamond?\u201d\n\n\u201cI found them; yes, I found them,\u201d groaned Nih\u00e1l Chand, \u201cbut I never wore\nthem over my heart, and now I have lost them for ever\u2014for ever!\u201d Then the\nstream of his grief found vent in words, and to the listening Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m\nand Juwal\u00ed Nih\u00e1l Chand thus poured forth the tale of his sorrow and sin:\u2014\n\n\u201cI had not long passed the river of Baptism when I was joined by a\nstranger, dark in face, but wearing gaudy attire, and of a smooth and\nflattering tongue.\u201d\n\n\u201cMethinks I know him,\u201d said Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m; \u201csurely his name is Temptation.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe walked by my side,\u201d continued Nih\u00e1l Chand, \u201cpraising my courage and\nzeal, till my heart was lifted up with pride, and I thought that nothing\nbut success and glory could be before me. I reached the foot of the\nCross; there I found, according to the words of my Father\u2019s messenger,\na precious golden casket. On opening it, I found within a beauteous\nornament,\u2014even the magnificent jewels joined together in one setting\nof gold. Over the ruby, Pardon, were inscribed the words, _Thy sins be\nforgiven thee_. Round the pearl, Purity, appeared engraved, _Holiness,\nwithout which no man shall see the Lord_. And I beheld written round the\nglittering diamond, _It is your Father\u2019s good pleasure to give you the\nkingdom_. Never was there an ornament so precious or so beautiful as this\nfree gift from our Father.\u201d\n\nThe eyes of Juwal\u00ed sparkled at the description given by Nih\u00e1l Chand.\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m inquired,\u2014\u201cWhy did you not at once, O my brother, place the\ntreasure upon your heart?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause of the words of Temptation, treacherous Temptation!\u201d exclaimed\nthe miserable Nih\u00e1l Chand. \u201cHe persuaded me that though Pardon is a\nprecious gift, and Heaven a prize that the mightiest rajah might covet,\nyet that the pale pearl, Purity, was what few would desire to wear.\nTemptation offered me in its stead a yellow stone, which he said was of\ngreater value, and to which he gave the name of Pleasure. Woe is me! woe\nis me! that ever I listened to the voice of Temptation, that I ever was\npersuaded to part with my pearl for that which afterwards broke in my\nhands, as a piece of worthless glass! I thought that I could give away\nPurity and yet keep Pardon and Heaven. I let Temptation take my treasure\ninto his hand, that he might separate the pearl from the ruby and\ndiamond. But the three may never be divided. Temptation, taking advantage\nof my worse than folly, rushed suddenly away whither I had no power to\nfollow him, bearing with him all that I had dared so much to win.\u201d\n\n\u201cLeaving nothing with you!\u201d cried Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m.\n\n\u201cLeaving remorse and shame, and a wretched imitation of a jewel, called\nPleasure, which I found to be utterly worthless. Nor have you heard\nthe end of my story. I wandered about for a while, unwilling to remain\nby the Cross, yet more unwilling to return to the city which I had\nleft with such bright hopes and brave resolutions. At last I laid me\ndown to sleep, but from that sleep I was startled by a sharp pain. The\nvenomous reptile whose name is _Uljh\u00e1newale gunah_[38] had noiselessly\ncrept towards me and inflicted this wound in my breast;\u201d and raising his\nmantle, Nih\u00e1l Chand showed a dark spot, which marked where the reptile\u2019s\nfang had left its deadly poison.\n\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m and Juwal\u00ed beheld the wound with grief and alarm.\n\n\u201cO Nih\u00e1l!\u201d exclaimed the brother, \u201cI know too well what are the effects\nof the bite of the _Uljh\u00e1newale gunah_. No serpent is more to be dreaded.\nThe remedy is at once to cut out the wounded part. This must be done,\nand at once.\u201d And Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m drew forth a sharp knife which he carried in\nhis girdle. On the handle of that knife was engraved its name\u2014_Help from\nabove_.\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand was a brave man, and yet, strange to say, he shrank like a\nchild from the pain which his brother thought it needful to inflict.\n\u201cNo, no!\u201d he cried, with an impatient movement of the hand; \u201csuch sharp\nremedies are not required. Do not the healing leaves of Good Intentions\ngrow abundantly in yon thicket? It will suffice to lay them upon the\nwound; they will soon draw all its poison away.\u201d\n\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, distressed and anxious, took out hastily from his bosom his\nFather\u2019s letter, and quickly turned over the pages, to find if it gave\nany directions for the treatment of a case like that of his brother. Very\ngrave was his face, and earnest his tones, as he read aloud the words\nof Him who is truth itself: _If thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is\nbetter for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go\ninto hell, into the fire that shall never be quenched: where their worm\ndieth not and the fire is not quenched._\n\n\u201cWhat is the meaning of those terrible words?\u201d inquired Nih\u00e1l Chand, who\ntrembled to hear them.\n\n\u201cO brother! the meaning is clear,\u201d cried Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m. \u201cWhatever be the\nanguish which it may cost, by the means of _Help from above_ we must part\nfrom and cast from us whatever is tainted by the poison of sin. You can\nnever have health, never have peace, nay, your very life is in imminent\nperil, unless whatever has been poisoned by the _Uljh\u00e1newale gunah_ be\ninstantly and thoroughly cut away.\u201d\n\nPoor unhappy Nih\u00e1l Chand looked like one in despair. Even the lightest\ntouch on the poisoned place gave him pain; how could he then endure\nsuffering which the knife would inflict?\n\nJuwal\u00ed had taken the Book from the hand of her husband, and now, with\na trembling voice, read this sentence aloud: _Let the wicked forsake\nhis way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto\nthe Lord and He will have mercy upon him, and unto our God, for He will\nabundantly pardon._\n\nThe words were words of hope, and from hope some courage came back to\nthe heart of Nih\u00e1l Chand. \u201cI will submit,\u201d he said; \u201cand if I suffer, I\nsuffer but according to my deserts.\u201d\n\nSilently but sadly Nih\u00e1l Chand endured the needful anguish; the part\npoisoned by the serpent was cut away, while Juwal\u00ed, on her knees, wept\nand prayed for her erring brother.\n\n\u201cNow, O Nih\u00e1l! you have parted with that which kept you from peace,\u201d said\nthe faithful Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, whose heart had bled for the sinner even while,\nwith _Help from above_, he had inflicted the pain; \u201cnow once more you may\nhope to possess our Father\u2019s gift of Pardon, Purity, and Heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever!\u201d groaned Nih\u00e1l Chand. \u201cWhen I yielded to Temptation, when I gave\nup my threefold treasure, it was lost to me past recovery. Go on, ye\nhappy ones! for the treasure may still be yours; but as for me, I shall\ncarry a scar on my breast, and a deep wound in my heart, to my grave.\u201d\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand closed his eyes, for he was too faint and too much exhausted\nto speak more, far less to proceed on his way. The souls of Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m and\nJuwal\u00ed were full of compassion for him who so bitterly repented having\ngiven way to Temptation, and who so mourned over the disgrace which he\nhad brought on the name of Christian. Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m resolved to remain for a\nwhile by his brother, till Nih\u00e1l Chand should be refreshed by a little\nrest. Juwal\u00ed, at her husband\u2019s desire, retired to the distance of a few\npaces, leaving the brothers together. There Juwal\u00ed knelt down and prayed\nfor her husband, and for herself, and for the penitent Nih\u00e1l Chand. Then,\nbeing very weary, Juwal\u00ed dropped asleep at the foot of a banyan-tree.\n\nIn vain Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m strove to give comfort and hope to his younger brother;\nin vain he spoke of the mercy freely offered to all who repent and cast\naway sin. Though the poisoned part, by means of _Help from above_,\nhad been cut away from the breast of Nih\u00e1l Chand, a painful wound yet\nremained, nor could he forget the past.\n\n\u201cOh! that I had resisted Temptation,\u201d he cried; \u201coh! that I had pressed\nto my heart the jewels of Pardon, Purity, and Heaven; the poisonous\nreptile would have lost all power to injure me then.\u201d[39]\n\nNih\u00e1l Chand was sinking deeper and deeper into despair, when Juwal\u00ed,\nhaving arisen from sleep, advanced towards the brothers with radiant joy\nsparkling in her eyes.\n\n\u201cO my lord,\u201d she exclaimed, addressing herself to her husband, \u201cI have\nbeen sent in my sleep a strange and beautiful dream. Behold, I saw\nTemptation, the dark enemy, the robber of souls, hurrying away with the\njewels of my lord\u2019s brother in his grasp,\u2014even the ruby, the pearl, and\nthe diamond joined in one setting of gold. Suddenly a white dove swooped\ndown from the sky, and caught the jewels out of the evil one\u2019s hand, and\nbore them away out of sight. Then I heard a voice, sweeter than music;\nand these were the words which it uttered: \u2018Let the penitent who sorrows\nfor sin, let the penitent who hath put away sin, again search for his\nforfeited treasure, and he shall find it once more, where he sought for\nit at first, even at the foot of the Cross.\u201d\n\nThe first gleam of hope that had appeared on the face of the wounded\nNih\u00e1l Chand brightened it as he listened to the account of the dream\nof his sister. Leaning heavily, very heavily, on a staff of Prayer, he\nstruggled to his feet, and in a voice faint yet resolute he said,\u2014\u201cLet us\ngo, and at once. If I, poor wounded sinner, must die, I will at least die\nat the foot of the Cross!\u201d\n\nOnwards the three Christians sped together. There was small difficulty to\nTuls\u00ed R\u00e1m, with his knife, _Help from above_, in removing the earth which\ncovered a golden casket. The Christian eagerly raised and opened it, and\nJuwal\u00ed uttered an exclamation of delight as she looked on its contents.\nThere lay three splendid ornaments, each containing three matchless\njewels, worth more than all the crowns of the world,\u2014even the ruby of\nPardon, the pearl of Purity, and the diamond of Heaven!\n\nOn his knees, and with head bowed down, as deeply feeling how unworthy\nhe was of his Father\u2019s gift, Nih\u00e1l Chand received his restored treasure,\nand pressed it first to his lips and then to his wounded breast. But no\nsooner had the jewels been placed near his heart than, to his amazement\nas well as delight, new health and strength were poured into his frame.\nNih\u00e1l Chand\u2019s wound became perfectly healed, and, springing to his feet,\nhe again stood erect, a brave and rejoicing man; a Christian strong to\nwrestle against Temptation, and overcome it wherever he should meet it\nagain.\n\nAnd, like Nih\u00e1l Chand, Tuls\u00ed R\u00e1m and his much loved wife, Juwal\u00ed, the\nfaithful and meek, wore over their hearts for ever the ruby, the pearl,\nand the diamond, their sins all pardoned, and their lives made pure.\nRejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing instant in prayer,\nthe three Christians looked forward to the glorious time when, having\nbeen faithful unto death, they should receive the crown of life which the\nLord hath promised to them that love him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nO reader! in this story have you read anything of your own? You may\nhave crossed the waters of baptism, you may have received the name of\nChristian, but have you yielded to temptation, is the venom of the\nreptile, besetting sin, whether pride, or falsehood, or the love of\nmoney, at this moment poisoning your soul? Oh! cut away and cast the evil\nfrom you, by means of help from above, or you will surely perish in your\nsin. Even for your wound there is healing, even for your guilt there is\npardon; the pearl of purity may yet be yours, you may yet inherit the\nkingdom of heaven. _The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin_;\nthe Holy Spirit is given in answer to prayer. But oh, delay not! for time\nis short, the day of grace may soon be past. It is the penitent sinner,\nthe faithful and the persevering, who at the foot of the cross shall find\nthe priceless treasures\u2014the ruby, the pearl, and the diamond\u2014Pardon,\nPurity and Heaven!\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe Broken Fence.\n\n\nOn a high hill, in a mountainous part of the Punjaub, was built a house\ngoodly and fair. In this dwelt a lady, whose name was Ashley Sahiba. In\nher heart was much love to God, and much love for poor little Indian\nchildren. Under the care of this lady were many girls; some of them were\norphans, and some of them had parents who lived in the plains, and who\nwished their children to enjoy the cooler air of the hills. These parents\nwere glad to have their daughters under the care of Ashley Sahiba, who\nwould not only teach them to read and write and work, but who would also\ntry to teach them to be gentle, obedient, and pious.[40] Ashley Sahiba\nprayed much with the children and for the children, and there was not one\nof the girls who had not a place in her heart.\n\nBut there was one of the girls who was a cause of much trouble and sorrow\nto the lady. The name of this girl was Ghuldasta. There were two things\nin her that occasioned this trouble and sorrow. The first thing was that\nGhuldasta had a strange kind of blindness. She could see, and see well,\nevery object that was but a few inches from her, so that she could read,\nand write, and sew,\u2014and she did these things as well as any other girl\nin the school; but Ghuldasta could see nothing at even a foot\u2019s distance\nfrom her eyes. The girl never saw the path before her, and therefore\noften stumbled over things that lay in her way, and had many painful\nfalls; for Ghuldasta scorned a careful walk, and never asked for a guide.\nGhuldasta had a little ivory box of precious ointment which had been sent\nto her by her Father, and which, by his command, she always carried in\nher bosom. \u201cLet my child carefully anoint her eyes with this ointment,\u201d\nthe wise Father had said, \u201cand she will soon see quite clearly, so that\nshe will not so stumble and fall.\u201d Ghuldasta had the ointment always\nwithin her reach, but, strange to say, she never cared to use it at\nall; she contented herself with looking at the outside of the box, on\nthe lid of which was written the name of the ointment\u2014_Self-examination\nmixed with Prayer_; whilst round the edge appeared the words, _Examine\nyourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves_ (2 Cor.\nxiii. 5). Ghuldasta had heard that the ointment would make the eyes\nsmart, and she never would put it on hers. \u201cI can see quite well enough,\u201d\nshe would say; \u201cno one can read the Bible better than I; why should I\ntrouble myself with this Self-examination? It would be of no use to me;\nand I dislike it of all things.\u201d\n\nAfter hearing that Ghuldasta thus disobeyed her wise Father\u2019s commands,\nno one can be surprised at being told the second cause of Ashley Sahiba\u2019s\nsorrow concerning the girl. Ghuldasta was much under the power of two\nwicked spirits, whose names are Pride and Self-will.[41] She never saw\nthem because of her blindness. If she could have seen them, she would\nhave been frightened, for what is so hideous as sin? But Ghuldasta often\nheard their voices, and, alas! to her those voices were pleasant. Ashley\nSahiba more than suspected that these wicked spirits had power over her\nyoung charge; for, though she could not actually see or hear them, she\nsaw the effect which their company had on the unhappy Ghuldasta. Often\ndid Ashley Sahiba warn all her children: \u201cO my beloved ones! beware of\nPride and Self-will, who often steal upon us to mislead and destroy.\nThey are sent by the great Enemy, who wishes to ruin our souls.\u201d But\nthough so often tenderly warned, blind and foolish Ghuldasta was not in\nthe least afraid of listening to Pride and Self-will.\n\nI have said that the house in which the lady and children dwelt was built\non the top of a high hill. The house had pleasant grounds around it, in\nwhich the children could play. All round this enclosure was a fence made\nof stakes of the choicest wood. This fence was very needful, as the hill\nwas in some parts so steep as to be dangerous, and the children might\noften have fallen down precipices but for this protection. On every one\nof the stakes was inscribed in golden letters a precious text, which\nglittered brightly in the sun, so that the fence was an ornament to the\nplace, as well as a safeguard to the children. The name of the fence was\nDuty.\n\nSome of the children were exceedingly glad that there was this beautiful\nfence around the enclosure. \u201cThere are many wild beasts in the\nmountains,\u201d they said; \u201ccheetahs, and bears, and the terrible lion called\nShait\u00e1n, who goeth about seeking whom he may devour. But for this fence\nwe should never feel safe. We never wish to venture beyond it.\u201d\n\nBut Ghuldasta was not one of these children. She had always a great\ndesire to wander beyond this fence; and often and often did Pride and\nSelf-will urge her to do so.\n\nSaid Pride: \u201cYou have nothing to fear. What do you care for cheetahs or\nlions?\u201d\n\nWhispered Self-will: \u201cIt is very hard to be shut up in a small enclosure\nlike this. Outside, on the mountains, are many beautiful flowers and\ndelicious fruits. When you are close to them, you will see and enjoy\nthem; you will make wreaths for your hair of the flowers, you will feast\nat your ease on the fruits.\u201d\n\nThen added Pride: \u201cCould not a brave and resolute girl such as you are\nmanage to get through the fence?\u201d\n\nIt is very dangerous to listen to Pride and Self-will, the black serpents\nthat speak now as the serpent spake to Eve in the Garden of Eden.\nGhuldasta began to think in her heart, \u201cCan I not contrive to break down\nor pull up a little bit of the fence, just enough to let me squeeze\nmyself through the opening?\u201d Evil thinking soon leads to evil doing.\n\nThere was one particular spot in the enclosure, shaded from view by\nthick bushes, to which Ghuldasta now often wandered. She never asked any\nof her companions to go with her thither. \u201cI would rather,\u201d she said,\n\u201cbe alone.\u201d Who would have guessed what the foolish and sinful girl was\ndoing, when she spent the greater part of her leisure time in this\nsolitary retreat? Ghuldasta was, with a knife, day by day cutting away\nat two of the stakes of the beautiful fence. On one of these stakes was\nwritten: _Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea,\nall of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility_ (1\nPeter v. 5). And on the second stake was written: _Obey them that have\nthe rule over you, and submit yourselves: for they watch for your souls,\nas they that must give account_ (Heb. xiii. 17). Ghuldasta did not care\nto read the holy words inscribed on the stakes; her only anxiety was\nto get rid of whatever hindered her going whither Pride and Self-will\nmade her eager to go. And, alas! all those days during which Ghuldasta\nwas cutting and doing her utmost to destroy the holy fence, she, with\nthe other girls, regularly read the Bible, sang hymns, and knelt down\nto pray. While she was obeying Pride and Self-will, and neglecting her\nFather\u2019s commands, every prayer and hymn from this girl\u2019s lips was in\nitself a grievous sin.\n\nVery early one morning, before the rest of the girls had come forth into\nthe grounds, Ghuldasta finished her wicked work. She had cut so very deep\ninto each of the two stakes in the fence of Duty, that she was now able\nto snap them off altogether, and fling them far away down the mountain.\nShe then tried to squeeze herself through the gap which she had made,\nand easily enough succeeded in doing so; for, alas! wilful sinners have\nno difficulty in passing beyond the fence of Duty, when once they have\nbroken the holy commands which form it.\n\nGhuldasta was rejoicing in the thought that now she could wander whither\nshe would, with none to restrain her, when suddenly she felt a firm grasp\non her shoulder.\n\n\u201cWretched, blind girl!\u201d exclaimed a voice behind her, \u201cwhither are you\ngoing?\u201d The voice was that of Ashley Sahiba.\n\nGhuldasta could not see the look of sorrow on the face of her guardian,\nany more than she could behold the love and pity in her heart; the girl\nonly heard that the sound of the voice was angry, and felt that the grasp\nof the hand was a tight one.\n\n\u201cWrench yourself away!\u201d cried Self-will.\n\n\u201cHow can she speak in so harsh a tone? How dare she call you wretched and\nblind?\u201d exclaimed Pride.\n\nGhuldasta was not strong enough to wrench herself away; but as soon as\nthe lady had drawn her back through the gap in the fence, the girl flung\nherself on the ground in a terribly sulky fit. She would scarcely listen\nto the lady\u2019s earnest words of warning.\n\n\u201cHow unkind she is!\u201d cried Self-will.\n\n\u201cHow unjust she is!\u201d muttered Pride.\n\nIt is sad to relate how completely these evil spirits held Ghuldasta in\nsubjection. The girl was in a fit of ill-humour, and showed it in every\nway that she possibly could. She would not eat, she would not work; she\nbehaved as if she thought that her tender friend had done her a cruel\nwrong in drawing her back from a perilous path. Ghuldasta was miserable\nherself, and tried to make all around her unhappy also. And yet this girl\nnever looked upon herself as a grievous sinner. She had not anointed her\neyes with the precious ointment contained in the ivory box.\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do?\u201d thought Ashley Sahiba: \u201chow shall I prevent my wilful,\nblind lamb from wandering in ways of destruction? She has broken down\npart of the fence; we cannot, with so many other children to care for,\nwatch her night and day. I dread lest she should again attempt to escape\nand wander on the mountains, where there are precipices and rushing\ntorrents, and where wild beasts roam about seeking for prey.\u201d\n\nAfter anxious thought Ashley Sahiba had the gap in the fence filled up by\na quantity of sharp prickly thorns of which the name is Punishment. \u201cNow\nI trust that my child will be safe,\u201d thought she.\n\nOn the first opportunity the wilful Ghuldasta found her way back to the\nspot where she had broken a way through the fence; but when she attempted\nto pass through the gap, lo! sharp Punishment stayed her.\n\n\u201cCruel, cruel Mem Sahiba!\u201d exclaimed Ghuldasta, as she drew back her\nbleeding hand, which had been hurt by the thorns.\n\n\u201cShe shall never stop you in this way!\u201d cried Self-will.\n\n\u201cShe finds fault with you because she does not love you as she loves the\nother girls,\u201d muttered Pride. \u201cShe is hard, partial, and unjust.\u201d\n\nGhuldasta resolved that even Punishment should not stop her. She remained\nall the rest of that day sulky and silent, revolving in her mind by what\nmeans she could still get her own way. Even during prayer-time all the\nthoughts of the sinful girl were turned in this direction. While the\nMem Sahiba was reading the Bible aloud to her children, Ghuldasta was\nlistening to the whispers of Pride and Self-will, which none could hear\nbut herself.\n\nSaid Pride: \u201cWhen none are near to watch you, take the thick black rug of\nObstinacy and throw it right over the thorns. They may hurt you a little\nstill, but they will not be able to stay you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will not care for a little pain, so that you get your own way,\u201d\ncried Self-will.\n\nWhen the house was hushed in silence,\u2014when all the other girls\nwere sleeping, and the weary Ashley Sahiba had closed her eyes in\nrepose,\u2014Ghuldasta silently arose from her bed, and felt her way to the\nplace where hung the black rug. Bearing Obstinacy with her, and moving\nas stealthily as if she were a thief, the wilful girl contrived to\nquit the house and reach the spot to which she so often had turned her\nsteps before. Ghuldasta flung the rug of Obstinacy over the thorns of\nPunishment, and found that by means of it she could manage to clamber\nover, though not without some pain. Ghuldasta was so much delighted at\nthis, that almost unconsciously she began to sing, though in a tone\ntoo low to rouse any of the sleepers in the house, which was at some\ndistance. Ghuldasta\u2014O fearful mockery!\u2014was actually humming a hymn when\nshe passed beyond the fence of Duty. She had on her lips:\n\n    \u201cThere is a happy land,\n      Far, far away.\u201d[42]\n\nBut she was not to have time to sing about the \u201csaints,\u201d whose glory,\nif she went on in her wilful course, she never, never would share.\nGhuldasta, though she knew it not, was on the path that leadeth to\ndestruction. She had no right to sing of that happy land, from which she\nwas actually trying to shut herself out for ever.\n\nI have said that Ghuldasta was apt to walk carelessly, and that she was\nso near-sighted that, even in the light of day, she could not see the\npath before her. Suddenly, to her horror, the poor girl found herself\nplunging down a precipice! Screaming for help, Ghuldasta caught at the\nbushes to save herself: they somewhat broke but they could not prevent\nher fall; for the twigs gave way in her hand! Down\u2014down\u2014down,\u2014crashing\nfell the miserable child! What would she not have given to have felt the\nfirm grasp of her Mem Sahiba! what would she not have given to have been\nheld fast by the thorns of Punishment!\u2014anything, anything that might have\nsaved her from the consequences of her own blind folly!\n\nPoor Ghuldasta was senseless before she reached the bottom. Her clothes\nwere rent; her body bruised and bleeding; much of her hair had been left\non the bushes. After a while she came to herself, in terrible pain, and\nwith perfect darkness around her. As Ghuldasta could only see objects\nvery, very near her, it was now to her as if she lay at the bottom of a\nwell.\n\n\u201cWhere am I?\u201d faintly murmured the miserable girl. Gradually she\nremembered all that had happened; but memory was anguish. Her best\nfriend, her much-wronged friend, was, she doubted not, sleeping, all\nunconscious of the misery and danger of the ungrateful girl whom she had\nwarned in vain. Ghuldasta\u2019s young companions were slumbering in peace,\ntill the morning\u2019s light should awaken them to begin the occupations of\nthe day. But for her own pride and wilfulness, Ghuldasta might at that\nmoment have been safe and happy amongst them.\n\nGhuldasta longed to know where she was\u2014to be able to look around her.\nShe thought of her ivory box of ointment, which she still carried in her\nbosom. Ghuldasta could not move her arm without pain, and she knew well\nthat the ointment would make her eyes smart; but lying as she was in\nhelplessness and darkness in a strange place, for the first time the girl\nwished to obey her Father\u2019s command.\n\nGhuldasta anointed her eyes with the salve of _Self-examination mixed\nwith Prayer_, and the effect of that salve was marvellous beyond all\nexpectation. At once perfect sight appeared to be restored; Ghuldasta saw\neverything around her bathed in the light of a clear full moon.\n\nBut it was a terrible view that was presented to the wilful transgressor.\nShe saw her danger\u2014she saw her sin. Above her was a rude jagged cliff,\nwhich, even had she been unhurt by her fall, she could never have power\nto climb. Ghuldasta lay upon thorns more painful than the thorns of\nPunishment which she had thought so cruel, and from these thorns she\ncould not wrench herself free.\n\n\u201cOh! what shall I do!\u2014what shall I do!\u201d exclaimed the unhappy and\npenitent girl, after she had exhausted herself by cries for help which\nno one could hear. \u201cWould that I had never listened to the voices of the\ntempters!\u2014would that I had never broken through the fence of Duty, and\nleft my safe and happy home! I chose my own way; and a way of misery I\nhave found it. I was lifted up with pride, and now I have fallen into the\ndepths of despair!\u201d\n\nGhuldasta could distinguish objects lying at no great distance from her,\nwhich she at once recognized; for on them golden letters were faintly\nglimmering in the moonlight. These were the stakes from the fence of Duty\nwhich she had herself broken and flung away!\n\n\u201c_Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder_,\u201d faintly\nmurmured Ghuldasta, as tears flowed fast down her cheeks. \u201cAlas! _I_\nwould never submit; I was never clothed in humility; I would not obey her\nwhom my Father had placed over me; I was insolent to her in my manner, I\ndespised her wise commands, I abused her patience, I grieved her heart.\nI shall never, never see her again. Oh! will she ever give a sorrowful\nthought to her poor Ghuldasta! No, no; she will be happy with those who\nlove her\u2014those who obey her. I shall soon be forgotten by all. Even in\nheaven they will never meet, nor even miss, the wretched Ghuldasta!\u201d At\nthe miserable thought, the poor girl cried as if her heart would break.\n\nHark! what was that fearful sound in the distance? Was it not the roar\nof the lion who goeth about seeking whom he may devour? Ghuldasta could\nnot fight, and she could not flee. She was ready to faint with terror.\nThen in her agony the repentant sinner betook herself to prayer. Never,\nnever had poor Ghuldasta prayed before as she prayed on that night, with\nclasped hands and streaming eyes! Her supplications were no mockery\nnow\u2014they came from a broken and contrite heart.\n\nAshley Sahiba, meanwhile, lay asleep on her bed; but even in sleep her\nmind was restless. Thoughts of her self-willed, proud Ghuldasta mixed\nthemselves with her dreams. At last the lady suddenly awoke, for it\nseemed as if a voice were whispering in her ears: \u201cO shepherdess! where\nis your poor lost lamb?\u201d\n\nAshley Sahiba closed her tired eyes, and tried to go to sleep again,\nbut she could not; she was so unhappy about Ghuldasta. Presently she\narose, and knelt down and prayed for the child. Then softly moving along\nthe rows of beds on which the children were sleeping, the lady sought\nthat of Ghuldasta, and started to find it empty! Her fears were but too\nwell-founded\u2014Ghuldasta had fled! That moment was one of the most painful\nwhich the lady had ever known in the course of her life.\n\nGhuldasta, imprisoned by thorns, and sorely hurt by her fall, lay\nstraining her eyes to catch sounds in the distance, and exhausted her\nlittle remaining strength by weeping. At last, to her exceeding terror,\nshe saw the bushes on the cliff above her moving, as if some large animal\nwere forcing its way down the difficult descent. She expected every\nmoment to see the glaring eyes of a beast of prey; she became silent in\nthe extremity of her fear. Then, from the very spot from whence Ghuldasta\nexpected to hear a savage growl, came a dear and well-known voice: \u201cMy\nchild! my child! where are you?\u201d Ghuldasta, collecting all her strength,\ncalled out the name of her lady; and a glad voice answered from above.\nHeedless of weariness or danger, Ashley Sahiba, by help of the bushes,\nwas clambering down the cliff from the top of which Ghuldasta had fallen.\nThe lady was like the good shepherd seeking the straying sheep; like\nthe woman searching for the lost piece of silver; and when at last she\nclasped her Ghuldasta in her arms, her cry of joy was like that of the\nprodigal\u2019s father: _This my son was dead and is alive again; was lost,\nand is found_.\n\nAshley Sahiba was followed by servants whom she had roused to help in\nthe search for Ghuldasta, and who had made their way down the hill by\na longer but less dangerous path. The poor girl, clinging to her Mem\nSahiba, was raised from her painful position, and carried up on a litter,\nfor she was unable to walk.\n\nA fever succeeded, caused by the sufferings both of mind and body endured\non that night by Ghuldasta. Under careful nursing she recovered from the\nfever, but the poor girl carried on her to her dying day marks of her\nterrible fall, and the remembrance of it was never effaced from her mind.\nBut happy was it for Ghuldasta that she had learned to anoint her eyes\nwith the salve of _Self-examination mixed with Prayer_; happy was it for\nher that she could say, _Whereas I was blind, now I see_. Ghuldasta had\nparted company with Pride and Self-will; she became daily more meek and\nlowly, more like Him who, though God as well as man, deigned in His youth\nto be subject to a mortal mother. Ghuldasta became the joy and crown of\nthe faithful friend to whom she so long had been a cause of trouble and\nsorrow. That friend taught her where alone she could find forgiveness\nfor all her past sins, and grace to struggle against them in the future.\n_Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are\nthe poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven_ (Matt. v. 4, 3).\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nShining in the Dark.\n\n\nThere dwelt in the Punjaub a man of the name of B\u00e1l Mukand, who was very\nlearned and clever. He had read many hooks, Hindu, Sanscrit, and Arabic,\nthe Vedas and the Pur\u00e1nas; he had also read translations of many of the\nwritings of the English.\n\nB\u00e1l Mukand entered the shop of Shib Das, the goldsmith, and sat down\nbeside him. Shib Das had lost many friends because he had become a\nChristian, but he had not lost the friendship of B\u00e1l Mukand. \u201cI will not\nquarrel with a man because he wears not on his head a pugree (turban)\nof the same colour as mine, or because he has not the same thoughts in\nhis head as I have,\u201d said the liberal-minded Punjaubi. He had read and\nreflected too much to act the part of a bigot.\n\nAnd what were the thoughts of B\u00e1l Mukand on the subject of religion?\nThus he expressed them to Shib Das as he sat in his shop.\n\n\u201cI will never be a Christian!\u201d said he. \u201cExcepting yourself, O Shib Das,\nI think that of all people Christians are the worst.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why do you think so?\u201d inquired Shib Das.\n\n\u201cI have read the Koran and the Shastras, I have read the Vedas and the\nBible,\u201d replied B\u00e1l Mukand, \u201cand I compare the books with the people who\nseverally profess to make such various writings the rule of their faith.\nThe Mohammedan is commanded to fast in the Ramadan, and he fasts; he is\ncommanded to pray five times a day, and he prays. The Hindu is told to\nreverence the Brahman; and lo! he is ready to drink the water in which\nthe holy man\u2019s feet have been washed. The Hindu makes pilgrimages and\nvisits temples, performs ablutions, and will rather starve than eat that\nwhich he deems unclean.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue, O B\u00e1l Mukand,\u201d replied Shib Das; \u201cbut why call Christians the\nworst of men? If they make not pilgrimages nor observe long fasts, it is\nbecause their religion does not command them to do these things.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut their religion does command them to do many things which they do\nnot,\u201d exclaimed B\u00e1l Mukand with a sneer. \u201cI have read their Bible, and\nknow what is in it, and very good words they are. The Bible says, _Love\none another_; and how many Christians hate one another instead! The Bible\nsays, _Thou shalt not covet_; and where is the Christian who is not\ngreedy of gain? The Christians read in their Book that God is truth, they\ncall themselves His children; and yet how many tell lies! The Mohammedan\nobeys his Koran, and the Hindu follows the rules of his Vedas; but the\nChristian reads his holy Book, and obeys not. When his guide bids him\ntake the narrow path, he rushes off to the broad one. Therefore, I repeat\nagain, Christians are the worst of all men.\u201d[43]\n\n\u201cYou are somewhat unjust to them,\u201d observed Shib Das. \u201cNot all Christians\nact in the manner which you describe.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook at the Sahib log\u201d (English), exclaimed B\u00e1l Mukand; \u201cthey who think\nthat they walk in light, while all the rest of mankind lie in darkness!\nSee the Commissioner Sahib\u2014has he not read in his Book, _Be pitiful, be\ncourteous_; and yet he spurns natives from him as if they were no better\nthan dogs! Who is more fond of the world and of money than the Railway\nSahib; and look how some of the English soldiers drink, though it is\nwritten in their Bible that drunkards shall not inherit the kingdom of\nheaven! Their religion may be pure as rain from the sky, or stream from\nthe mountain, but wherein are they the better for it?\u201d\n\nThen Shib Das thoughtfully stroked his beard and made reply: \u201cIf fruit\ngrow not on the stone, is it the fault of the rain? if the traveller\nstoop not to drink of the stream beside him, is it the fault of the river\nif he perish of thirst? I repeat again that all Christians are not so\ndisobedient to the laws of their Book; there are some whose souls are as\na well-watered garden, in which grow the fruits of holiness, truth, and\nlove.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese people are very few,\u201d muttered B\u00e1l Mukand; \u201cI could count on\nmy fingers all whom I have met with. As by far the greater number of\nChristians are evil, where is the advantage of becoming a Christian?\u201d\n\nShib Das smiled and said: \u201cO B\u00e1l Mukand, did you ever hear the tradition\nof King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba?\u201d\n\nThen said B\u00e1l Mukand, \u201cI pray you tell me the story.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is said that the Queen of Sheba, who came from afar to hear the\nwisdom of Solomon, tried thus to put it to proof. She had flowers made\nby skilful workmen so like real flowers, that no man, without touching\nthem, could tell the difference between them. The queen showed to Solomon\na quantity of true and false flowers mixed together. \u2018Let your wisdom,\u2019\nsaid she, \u2018discover, without coming near them, which of the flowers have\ndrank heaven\u2019s dews and which have not,\u2014which are living and which are\nlifeless.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did the wise Solomon?\u201d inquired B\u00e1l Mukand.\n\n\u201cHe commanded all the doors to be flung wide open, so that the bees and\nother insects had free access to the flowers. The bees settled on the\nblossoms that had life, those in which heaven\u2019s dew had turned into\nhoney. \u2018Behold, O Queen,\u2019 cried Solomon, \u2018where there is life there\nis sweetness also. There are many false flowers yonder, but we soon\ndiscover the true.\u2019 Even so, O B\u00e1l Mukand, there are many that are called\nChristians who are not Christians at all, for in their faith there is no\nlife; they have nothing of Christianity but the name. Would Solomon have\nbeen a wise man had he said at once, \u2018All these flowers are false\u2019? No;\nhe put the matter to the proof. When you condemn all Christians together,\nyou have not the wisdom of Solomon nor the discrimination of the bees.\nBesides,\u201d added Shib Das, \u201cwhatever the conduct of so-called Christians\nmay be, you acknowledge that their religion is pure, that their Book is\ngood. Christians may be faulty, but Christ Himself is perfect.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne looks for the disciples to be as the Master,\u201d observed B\u00e1l Mukand.\n\u201cThe Christian\u2019s heaven may exist, and be all that the Bible describes it\nto be; but to me the path to it is so dark, that after all my reading,\nand searching, and thinking, I own that I cannot find it. I never shall\nbe a Christian.\u201d\n\nShib Das saw that there was no use in arguing with one who refused to be\nconvinced; therefore the Christian remained silent. And soon afterwards\nB\u00e1l Mukand fell asleep.\n\nB\u00e1l Mukand was before long awakened by the sound of some one speaking\nat the front of the shop, but he stirred not, nor opened his eyes; he\nremained as if sleeping still, and listened unnoticed to the discourse of\nShib Das with the stranger, whose name was Karm Illahi.\n\nThere was in the shop a scimitar with a jewelled hilt, which had\nattracted the eyes of Karm Illahi as he passed along the narrow street.\nAt his desire it was now placed in his hand; he examined the blade, he\nlooked at the ornaments on the hilt. B\u00e1l Mukand also had, half an hour\nbefore, noticed and admired the scimitar, which had been, a short time\npreviously, purchased by Shib Das from an Afghan chief.\n\nThe Mohammedan, Karm Illahi, inquired the price of the scimitar, which he\ngreatly desired to possess.\n\n\u201cThe price is thirty rupees,\u201d was the reply of Shib Das.\n\n\u201cI thought that he would have said sixty or seventy at least,\u201d thought\nthe astonished B\u00e1l Mukand. \u201cSurely the jewels in the hilt are worth much\nmore than thirty rupees.\u201d\n\nKarm Illahi did not betray the joy which he really felt at hearing a much\nlower price asked than what he had expected. Again, slowly and carefully,\nhe tried the blade and examined the hilt.\n\n\u201cAre all these jewels real?\u201d he inquired of the seller.\n\n\u201cAll but this sapphire in the centre,\u201d replied Shib Das. \u201cThe imitation\nis so good that I myself was at first deceived. Were that jewel real, I\nshould have asked double the price for the weapon.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will give you twenty rupees,\u201d said Karm Illahi\u2014who had never yet\nbought anything without trying to lower the price. Had he been offered a\nhen for an anna, he would have tried to get it for eleven pies.[44]\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Shib Das calmly; \u201cI have but one price for the things in\nmy shop, and that is the fair one. A year ago I should have asked you at\nleast seventy rupees for that scimitar, and have sworn that every jewel\nin the hilt was real.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why do you not do so now?\u201d inquired Karm Illahi in no small surprise.\n\n\u201cBecause I am a Christian,\u201d was the simple reply of Shib Das.\n\nKarm Illahi smiled a mocking smile, but he drew forth a bag of money\nwhich he carried with him, and counted out the thirty rupees. B\u00e1l Mukand\nheard him muttering to himself as he did so: \u201cThis Christian is a fool,\nfor none but a fool would have said that the stone was false, or have\nasked less for his goods than he might have hoped to get from a stranger.\u201d\n\nNot such was the thought of the more enlightened B\u00e1l Mukand. \u201cIf all men\ndealt with such honesty and truth, this would be a happy land,\u201d he said\nin his heart. \u201cThe folly of such men as this Shib Das is better than the\nwisdom of the worldly.\u201d\n\nScarcely had the Mussulman left the place with the scimitar which he had\nbought, than Yuhanna, a Christian catechist, came up to the jeweller\u2019s\nshop. Still B\u00e1l Mukand lay perfectly quiet and listened, whilst Yuhanna\nexchanged greetings with Shib Das.\n\nThen said the jeweller: \u201cDoubtless you have come, O Yuhanna, for the\nmonthly subscription for the church fund and the support of the poor.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, O brother,\u201d replied Yuhanna. \u201cI am going my rounds amongst the\nChristians, but as yet I have collected but little. The funds are low,\nand we have more sick to help and more widows to relieve than usual.\u201d\n\nB\u00e1l Mukand, where he lay, opened his eyes a little, and he could see with\nwhat a look of pleasure his friend Shib Das drew four rupees from his\nstore, and gave them into the hand of Yuhanna.\n\n\u201cIt is strange, O Shib Das,\u201d observed the catechist, \u201cthat you give more\nto the church fund than do even baboos in government employ. You are not,\nI believe, a rich man. How is it that when we ask for offerings to God we\nnever find your bag empty?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe reason is very simple,\u201d was Shib Das\u2019s cheerful reply. \u201cI am a\nChristian, and I try to obey what is written in the Word of my God\nregarding offerings made unto Him: _Upon the first day of the week let\nevery one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him_ (1 Cor.\nxvi. 2). At least a tenth of the profits of my trade I look upon as the\nLord\u2019s, and not my own. Thus I ever have money at hand to give; and when\nI give it, I never miss it.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod will accept your gift, and will bless you,\u201d said the catechist\nearnestly, ere he turned and went on his way.\n\nAnd what was the thought of B\u00e1l Mukand as he lay, apparently asleep, in\nthe innermost and darkest part of the shop? \u201cIf all men showed such piety\nand charity, this would be a happy land,\u201d he said in his heart. \u201cThe\npoverty of such men as Shib Das is better than the wealth of the worldly.\u201d\n\nThe next person who came to the shop was the bearer of a government\nofficial of rank. He carried with him a necklace which had been broken in\nmany places. Some of the precious stones had dropped from their setting.\nThe bearer, whose name was Parduman, showed the broken ornament to Shib\nDas.\n\n\u201cCan you mend this for the Mem Sahiba?\u201d asked he.\n\nShib Das was skilful in his craft, and he said that he could certainly\nmend the necklace. His heart was glad, for this was the first time that\nthe poor Christian goldsmith had been offered employment by any of the\nSahib log, and it seemed to him as if God were sending prosperity to his\nhouse.\n\n\u201cThe Mem Sahiba must have her necklace back on Monday,\u201d said the bearer,\n\u201cfor she is going to a grand ball on that night.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot finish the work so soon,\u201d said Shib Das, after carefully\nexamining the broken ornament. A short time before, he would have readily\nmade a promise, whether he had hoped to be able to keep it or not; but\nnow that Shib Das served the God of truth, he would have suffered any\nloss rather than have broken his word.\n\n\u201cYou have all to-morrow to work in,\u201d observed Parduman, the bearer.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow is Sunday, the day set apart for worship and praise,\u201d said\nShib Das. \u201cI have given up working on that day since I have become a\nChristian.\u201d\n\nThen Parduman waxed angry, and roughly took back the necklace.\n\n\u201cThe Sahib and Sahiba are Christians,\u201d he cried, \u201cand they do their work\nor take their pleasure on Sundays. Dost thou, O owl, and son of an owl,\nset thyself up as one wiser, or holier than they?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhatever others do, I have simply to obey what is written in my sacred\nBook,\u201d said the Christian: \u201c_Remember the Sabbath, to keep it holy_.\u201d\n\nThen Parduman, who hated all Christians, and most especially such as were\nreal ones, burst into a torrent of abuse. Every bitter and insulting\nepithet that he could think of flowed from his lips, as venom from the\nmouth of a snake. B\u00e1l Mukand, from his dark corner, watched to see how\nhis friend would endure the provocation which he was receiving. \u201cShib Das\nis of a fiery temper,\u201d he said to himself; \u201che is also strong and bold.\nHe will give that foul-mouthed wretch sharp words back, or something\nsharper than words.\u201d B\u00e1l Mukand saw that the angry blood was rising to\nthe cheek of Shib Das, and expected a burst of passion to follow. But\nthe servant of Christ pressed his own lips firmly together, and returned\nnot railing for railing. He only said, as his enemy, still pouring forth\nabuse, turned to depart, \u201cIt is a fortunate thing for you, O bearer, that\nI am a Christian.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is a strange change in this Shib Das,\u201d thought B\u00e1l Mukand. \u201cI\nhave known him in former days strike a man to the earth for far less\nprovocation than this. It is assuredly not cowardice that makes him now\nthus calmly endure. If all men had the firmness and patience of this Shib\nDas, this would indeed be a happy land. The silent endurance of such men\nas this Christian, shows more true courage than the boldest deeds of the\nwarrior.\u201d\n\nB\u00e1l Mukand had but a short time to give to such reflections, for scarcely\nhad the bearer left the jeweller\u2019s shop when the sound of a fearful\nscuffle was heard in the street. Three thieves of the city had gained\ninformation that Parduman had in his charge a necklace of inestimable\nvalue. Lurking near the goldsmith\u2019s shop, these thieves had heard the\nabuse lavished by the bearer on the Christian. While revilings and curses\nwere yet on the lips of Parduman, he was suddenly felled to the earth by\na blow. Being active and strong, he struggled again to his feet, calling\nout loudly for help. But the three thieves were far more than a match for\nthe bearer. A second time he was hurled bleeding to the ground, and his\nwicked tongue might then have been silenced for ever, had not the brave\nShib Das rushed out of his shop to the help of his enemy. The jeweller\nhad snatched up a heavy stick on hearing Parduman\u2019s cry for help; and of\nthis stick he made such vigorous use that the thieves were not only put\nto flight, but forced to leave the jewels behind them.\n\nThe care of Shib Das was then given to his wounded enemy. He offered to\nbind Parduman\u2019s hurts as kindly as if he had been his brother; but the\nHindu declined his aid. Shib Das then brought him water to drink; but the\nbearer refused to take it from his hands: he would have thought himself\npolluted by touching with his lips the vessel of the Christian.\n\nB\u00e1l Mukand had watched the whole scene with keen interest. \u201cIf all men\nwere generous and forgiving as this Christian,\u201d\u2014this was the thought of\nB\u00e1l Mukand,\u2014\u201cthis would indeed be a happy land. Does yon bigoted Hindu\nfear pollution from the touch of Shib Das? Were the bearer not blinded\nby superstition, he would know that there is no caste so high and pure as\nthat of the children of God.\u201d\n\nParduman left the necklace for the goldsmith to repair,\u2014perhaps from some\nfeeling of gratitude towards his preserver, perhaps because he feared,\nshould he keep the jewels on his own person, to be again attacked on the\nroad. With a bruised frame and bleeding brow Parduman left the place,\nand, we may hope, likewise with a humbled heart, resolved that he would\nnot again abuse a man for being a Christian, or despise him for obeying\nthe law of his God.\n\nB\u00e1l Mukand had risen from his reclining posture at the first sound of\nthe struggle in the street, though he had not, like Shib Das, rushed out\nto the aid of the bearer. B\u00e1l Mukand now, with a countenance full of\nthought, advanced towards his friend.\n\n\u201cO Shib Das!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201csaid I not an hour ago that the way to the\nChristian\u2019s heaven was dark, and that with all my searching and reading I\nwas not able to find it? Lo! since I entered your shop a clear light has\nshone on the way.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your meaning, my friend?\u201d asked the goldsmith.\n\n\u201cI have discovered the difference between the false flowers and the real;\nbetween those that are lifeless and those that have drunk the rain from\nthe sky. I have seen that what is written in your Bible is true, though\nthe words were at first an unfathomable mystery to my soul: _If any man\nbe in Christ, he is a new creature_ (2 Cor. v. 17). I have beheld the\nwell-watered garden in which grow the fruits of honesty and truth, piety\nand obedience, meekness, forgiveness, and love.\u201d\n\n\u201cO my friend!\u201d exclaimed Shib Das, \u201cI am in myself weak, sinful,\npolluted; it is only through the death of Christ my Lord that I am saved\nfrom eternal destruction. It is only through the power of His Holy Spirit\nthat I am enabled so much as to think one good thought.\u201d\n\n\u201cHaving been saved, the Christian loves; and having loved, he obeys; and\nin obeying he glorifies God,\u201d said B\u00e1l Mukand. \u201cShib Das, your _example_\nhas done for me what all your words cannot do: it has convinced me that\nthe religion which produces such effects must be the true one; it has\nmade me resolve to become a Christian also.\u201d\n\nThe life of every true servant of the Holy Saviour is as a lamp to light\nothers on their way, as the blessed Lord showed when He said: _Let your\nlight so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify\nyour Father which is in heaven_ (Matt. v. 16).\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe Paper Parable.\n\n\nThree men sat conversing together in the evening, when the glowing sun\nhad just dipped below the horizon. The names of these men were Lalla R\u00e1m,\nHukam Chand, and Lajput Rai. Lalla R\u00e1m was the inhabitant of a village,\nand dwelt in a mud-built hut. Hukam Chand kept a little shop in a crowded\nlane of the city of Lahore. Lajput Rai had no settled place of abode; he\nwas a sage who had travelled much, had seen much, had thought much, and\nhis words were deemed words of wisdom.\n\nThe first one of the three who spoke was the villager, Lalla R\u00e1m. He had\nbeen revolving in his mind news that he had heard that day\u2014namely, that\nthe orphan daughter of a friend of his had been placed in a school. This\nwas a cause of great displeasure to Lalla R\u00e1m.\n\n\u201cIt is an evil thing,\u201d said he, \u201cthat schools for girls are now being\nplanted over our land. Who would be so foolish as to sow corn upon a\npool? Who would teach letters to a cow? Hath the sheep power to acquire\nknowledge? Woman was made to toil and bear burdens; she was made to\nlabour in the field, and to grind at the mill. A book placed in the hand\nof a girl is as an ear-ring in the ear of an ass!\u201d\n\nThen spake he who dwelt in Lahore\u2014he whose wife was ever in pardah:\u2014\u201cI\ntoo would close all schools for girls; but not because, in my opinion,\nit is good for women to labour. No: let our wives and daughters keep\nin pardah; and if they want amusement, let them find it in decking\nthemselves out with jewels.[45] Women are quick enough in learning\nmischief without sharpening their wits by books. To put knowledge within\nthe grasp of woman, is to put an edge-tool into the hand of a fool! Woman\nis only happy in ignorance, and only safe in seclusion.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friends,\u201d said the sage Lajput Rai, \u201cdid you ever hear the story of\nthe rajah and the three sheets of paper?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried Lalla R\u00e1m and Hukam Chand. \u201cMy lord, we pray you, tell us the\nstory.\u201d\n\n\u201cA great rajah,\u201d began Lajput Rai, \u201ccalled to him three of his servants,\nand committed to each of them a fair sheet of paper, upon which no letter\nhad ever been traced. The rajah told none of the three wherefore he had\ngiven the paper, but only said, \u2018Use it with wisdom.\u2019 But he said to\nhimself, \u2018I will judge of the understanding of each of these my servants\nby the use to which he shall put my gift; and he who showeth most wisdom\nshall receive a high place in my household.\u2019\n\n\u201cAfter a long time had passed, the rajah again called his three servants;\nand after they had made their sal\u00e1ms, thus he spake to the first: \u2018To\nwhat use hast thou put that fair sheet of blank paper which I committed\nto thy charge, for I wish to look on it now?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I wrapped seed in it, O your highness!\u2019 replied the first servant, \u2018and\ncarried it into the field. The paper fell on the earth, damp with the\nrains, and was marred; my ox placed his foot upon it; it was trampled\ndown into the clay. It is therefore impossible that I should lay it at\nyour majesty\u2019s foot-stool.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen said the rajah to his second servant, \u2018To what use hast thou put\nthat goodly sheet of blank paper which I committed to thy charge, for I\nwish to behold it again?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I put the paper to no use whatsoever, O maharajah!\u2019 replied the man,\nwith a profound sal\u00e1m. \u2018I rolled it up, and put it carefully on a shelf\nin an inner apartment, where no man could see it. But the damp spotted\nand stained it, and the white ants fretted it; the paper is no longer fit\nto be looked upon by the eyes of your highness.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen the rajah turned to his third servant, and said, \u2018To what use hast\nthou put that fair sheet of blank paper which I committed to thy charge?\u2019\n\n\u201cThen the servant, after making obeisance, took from his bosom a roll,\nwhich he then slowly unfolded before the rajah. And lo! upon the\nroll, in letters of scarlet, and blue, and gold, appeared a beautiful\nillumination, fit for the walls of a palace. And these were the words\ninscribed:\u2014_Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above\nrubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her. She will do\nhim good and not evil all the days of her life_ (Prov. xxxi. 10-12).\n\n\u201c\u2018O faithful and wise servant!\u2019 cried the rajah, \u2018thou alone hast made a\ngood use of my gift, thou only hast known its worth. Thou shalt reap a\nrich reward; and the paper which thy diligence hath made so fair, shall\nbe framed in gold, and have an honourable place in my palace.\u2019\n\n\u201cMy friends,\u201d continued the sage, \u201csee ye the meaning of my story? The\nblank sheets of paper are the minds of our young daughters; and he who\nhath trusted them to your care is the mighty King, to whom ye must one\nday render a strict account. Ignorance is as the treading down of the\nox in the field, or as the mould that mars the roll on the shelf. _For\nthe soul to be without knowledge is not good._ But happy the father who\ncauses to be traced on the mind of his young daughter lessons of purity,\nwisdom, and truth! Those lessons shall shine forth as in characters of\ngold; and she who has learned in youth to serve and obey the great King,\nshall find an honourable place in that heaven which He hath prepared for\nthem that love Him.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nThe Oldest Language upon Earth.\n\n\nThe story goes that three old men\u2014a Mohammedan, a Jew, and a\nBrahmin\u2014seated on the ground beside a well, disputed together as to which\nwas the first language spoken upon earth. The discussion waxed so hot,\nthe voices were raised so loudly, that the sound drew to the spot a young\nEnglishman. The youth had been out shooting; with his gun in his hand,\nand his game at his feet, he now stood, leaning against a tree, listening\nto the discussion between the three men.\n\nThe Mohammedan, with vehement gestures, and many an oath, declared that\nno language could equal the Arabic.\n\n\u201cIs it not the language,\u201d he cried, \u201cin which Mohammed (blessed be his\nname!) received the holy Koran? Is it not that in which the Most High\ngave laws to the faithful? Will ye, O ye unbelievers! cast dust on the\ngrave of the Prophet by doubting that Arabic is the oldest language on\nearth?\u201d\n\nThe Jew shook his gray head, and his brow was knit into many wrinkles\nas he made answer: \u201cThe language which Abraham our father, which Isaac\nand Jacob (peace be on them!) spake, must be honoured above all other\ntongues. Surely it was heard in Paradise, before Eve plucked the\nforbidden fruit! The oldest and most sacred language assuredly is the\nHebrew.\u201d\n\nThen spake the Brahmin, in tones of scorn: \u201cAll languages compared to\nSanscrit are as the bulrush compared with the spreading banyan. Nay; even\nas the banyan sends forth shoots, and from those shoots, when they touch\nthe earth, spring forth young trees, so other tongues spring from the\nlife-giving Sanscrit. He must be void of wisdom, and ignorant as a woman,\nwho doubts that the most ancient language is Sanscrit.\u201d\n\nThe disputants grew so angry, that it seemed as if to words might succeed\nblows, when the young Englishman stepped forward.\n\n\u201cO venerable men!\u201d he said with courtesy, \u201cyou have numbered many years\nand I but few; yet let me arbitrate between you. I know what is the most\nancient and honourable language spoken on earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know!\u201d exclaimed the Mohammedan in surprise. \u201cYou have but down upon\nyour lips; and will you teach graybeards like us?\u201d\n\nThe Hindu muttered to himself,\u2014\u201cThe Sahib log think that they know\neverything! They can make roads and bridges, and send messages through\nwires; but what can they tell of ancient languages to a Brahmin?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe language of which I would inform you is not only the one first\nspoken upon earth, but it is the one now spoken in heaven,\u201d said the\nEnglishman.\n\nThe three men stroked their beards, and uttered exclamations of\nastonishment at the presumption shown by the youth.\n\n\u201cAnd yet more,\u201d continued the youth, his eyes, blue as the sky, sparkling\nwith animation as he went on,\u2014\u201cwithout learning to speak this language no\nman, of whatsoever nation he be, will ever be suffered to enter heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes your honour know this language?\u201d asked the Mohammedan quickly.\n\n\u201cYes, God be praised!\u201d the Englishman replied.\n\n\u201cAnd where did you first learn it?\u201d asked the incredulous Jew.\n\nIn a softened tone the young man replied, \u201cI learned it first from the\nlips of my mother.\u201d\n\nThe three men glanced at each other in surprise; and then the Brahmin\ninquired, \u201cAnd what is this language, O Sahib?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe language of TRUTH,\u201d said the Englishman.\n\nWhen the word was spoken, the clouds cleared away from the faces of the\nthree; they stroked their beards and cried, \u201cWell said. Truth is the\nlanguage of God; truth is the language spoken in heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it must be learned upon earth,\u201d said the Englishman earnestly.\n\u201cBefore I came to this land, I gave up pleasures by day and rest by\nnight, in order to learn the language of Hindostan. Were I not to know\nit, I could not remain in the honourable service to which I belong. And\nthus it is with truth, the language of heaven. God is truth itself, and a\nlie is to Him an accursed thing. It is written in His Word: _Lying lips\nare an abomination to the Lord._\u201d\n\nAgain the three men glanced at each other. There was not one of them that\nwould not have lied for the sake of making a few pice larger profit in a\nbargain; lies were to them common as the mosquitoes which buzzed around\ntheir heads; not one of them had ever thought of falsehood as a deadly\nsin, abhorrent to God.\n\nThe Mohammedan was the one to speak first.\n\n\u201cUpon what authority does the Sahib affirm that the gate of heaven is\nclosed against those who speak not the language of truth?\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the authority of God\u2019s holy Word, which cannot be broken,\u201d replied\nthe Englishman. \u201cHear, O my friends, what is declared of the abode of the\nblessed by Him who cannot utter untruth: _There shall in no wise enter\ninto it anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination or\nmaketh a lie._\u201d\n\n\u201cHeaven will be very empty, then,\u201d said the Jew with a sneer. \u201cYour\nfavoured Saint Peter, according to your own Scriptures, lied thrice, and\nwith oaths and curses. Shall he be shut out from heaven, or shall his sin\nalone go unpunished?\u201d\n\n\u201cPeter\u2019s sin _was_ punished,\u201d replied the Englishman gravely; \u201cbut it was\nPeter\u2019s Lord, the Master whom Peter had denied, who bore the penalty for\nhim. The blood that flowed from the Saviour\u2019s wounded side can wash away\nall sin, whether of thought or word or deed, the sin of falsehood amongst\nthe rest. But those who would be forgiven like Peter, must, like Peter,\nbelieve and love. When God\u2019s Spirit comes into the heart, He comes to\ndrive away evil from it; the unjust becomes just, and the proud becomes\nmeek, and the lips that often were stained with falsehood learn the\nlanguage of heaven\u2014the language of truth.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nStories on the Ten Commandments.\n\n\nI.\u2014THE BROKEN BRIDGE.\n\nHossein said to his aged grandfather Abbas, \u201cO grandfather, wherefore are\nyou reading the Gospel?\u201d\n\nAbbas made answer, \u201cI read it, my son, to find the way to heaven.\u201d\n\nHossein, smiling, said, \u201cThe way is plain enough. Worship but the one\ntrue God, and keep the Commandments.\u201d[46]\n\nThe man whose hair was silvered with age made reply: \u201cHossein, the\nCommandments are as a bridge of ten arches, by which the soul might once\nhave passed over the flood of God\u2019s wrath, and have reached heaven, but\nthat the bridge has been shattered. There is not one amongst us that\nhath not broken the Commandments again and again.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy conscience is clear!\u201d cried Hossein proudly. \u201cI have kept all the\nCommandments; at least, almost all,\u201d he added, for his conscience had\ngiven the lie to his words.\n\n\u201cAnd if one arch of a bridge give way under the traveller, doth he not\nsurely perish in the flood, my son, though the nine others be firm and\nstrong? But many of the arches of thy bridge are broken; yea, the very\nfirst is in ruins.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot the First Commandment\u2014_Thou shalt have none other god but Me._ I\nhave never broken that!\u201d exclaimed Hossein indignantly. \u201cI have never\nworshipped any god but one\u2014the Almighty, the Invisible, the All-merciful.\n_That_ arch in my bridge, at least, is whole and entire.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe being whom we love above all others, and whose honour we most\ndesire, the being whom we obey in all things,\u2014is not he the one whom we\nworship in the temple of the heart?\u201d inquired the old man.\n\n\u201cSurely; for that Being is our God!\u201d exclaimed Hossein.\n\nHe of the silvery beard slowly rose from his seat. \u201cCome with me, O\nyouth,\u201d said he, \u201cand I will show thee whom thou dost worship in the\ntemple of thine heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo man can show me Him whom I worship!\u201d cried Hossein in indignant\nsurprise; \u201cfor the one true God is invisible, and I worship none but Him.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome with me,\u201d repeated Abbas; and he led the way to a tank of water\nclear and pure, in which the surrounding buildings and trees were\nreflected as in a mirror.\n\nHossein followed his grandfather wondering, and saying to himself, \u201cAge\nhath made the old man as one who hath lost his reason.\u201d\n\nWhen the two reached the tank, Abbas said to his grandson, \u201cLook down\ninto the clear water, and behold him whom thou dost love above all\nothers, whose honour thou dost most desire, whose will thou dost ever\nobey. O Hossein, my son! is he not to thee in the place of the one true\nGod?\u201d\n\nHossein looked down, and behold! there was his own image reflected in the\nclear water.\n\n\u201cHe who loves Self more than God hath broken the first law,\u201d continued\nAbbas; \u201cfor is it not written: _Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all\nthy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all\nthy strength: this is the First Commandment?_ Hossein, this arch of thy\nbridge is broken; thou canst not pass to heaven upon it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd can you?\u201d exclaimed Hossein with impatience.\n\n\u201cNo, my son,\u201d said the old man meekly; \u201cI have long ago seen that this,\nas well as other Commandments, has been broken by me, a sinner. There\nnever was but one Man, and He the Holy One of God, with whom the bridge\nof obedience was perfect and entire.\u201d[47]\n\n\u201cIf your bridge be broken, how do you hope to reach heaven at all?\u201d\ninquired Hossein. \u201cHow can you, or any one else, escape being swallowed\nup in the flood of God\u2019s wrath?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy clinging to Him who cast Himself into the raging torrent that He\nmight bear all those who believe in Him safe to the shore of heaven!\u201d\nexclaimed Abbas with fervour. \u201cThou hast looked down on thyself, thy\nsinful self, O Hossein; now look upwards to Christ, the spotless One, who\ncan save thee from self and sin. My hope of heaven is firm and sure, for\nit is founded on this sacred word: _God so loved the world that He gave\nHis only begotten Son, that whoso believeth in Him should not perish, but\nhave everlasting life._\u201d\n\n\nII.\u2014THE BURNING HUT.\n\nSheosahai, the Brahmin, stood in his straw-thatched cottage, gazing on\nthe image of Krishna, the dark god, which for centuries he and his\nfathers had worshipped.\n\nHis young son, Sheo Deo, who from his birth had been paralyzed in his\nlimbs, lay on his mat near, and thus addressed his father:\u2014\n\n\u201cO father, the time for pujah (worship) has come! Why do you not\nprostrate yourself before Krishna?\u201d\n\nSheosahai made reply: \u201cMy son, I was at the _mela_ (fair) yesterday, and\nthere was a man preaching;[48] and I stood to listen, and his words have\ntroubled my soul. He said that thousands of years ago the mighty God came\ndown upon a mountain in fire and smoke, and that from the midst of the\nfire and smoke a terrible voice gave this command,\u2014_Thou shalt not make\nunto thyself any graven image, or the likeness of any thing that is in\nheaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water\nunder the earth: thou shalt not bow down thyself to them._ I would fain\nhave cast dust at the speaker; and yet his words clung to my soul, for he\nspake as one who knows that he speaks the truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas the great God of whom he told the God of the Christians?\u201d asked Sheo\nDeo, who had heard something of their religion before.\n\n\u201cThe same,\u201d replied his father. \u201cAnd the preacher went on to say that in\nEngland, thousands of years ago, men bowed down to idols, and worshipped\nthe work of their own hands; and then the people were feeble and few. But\nthe nation has long since cast away idols, and now men read their holy\nBook, and pray to the Lord Jesus Christ; and therefore England is mighty,\nand a blessing rests on the land.\u201d\n\n\u201cO father! do you not fear the wrath of Krishna when he hears you repeat\nsuch words?\u201d cried Sheo Deo, looking up in alarm at the painted image.\n\nSheosahai made no reply; he turned and slowly left the hut. Perhaps the\nthought arose in his heart: \u201cHas Krishna power to hear them?\u201d\n\nAfter his father\u2019s departure Sheo Deo lay still on his mat, from which he\ncould not move, and often he gazed up at the idol, and turned over in his\nmind the strange words which his father had heard.\n\nPresently there came on a terrible storm. The thunder roared above like\nthe noise of a thousand cannon, and fierce lightnings flashed from the\ndarkened sky; the whole earth seemed to tremble with the fury of the\ngreat tempest.\n\n\u201cWas it in a storm like this,\u201d thought Sheo Deo, \u201cthat the awful voice\nwas heard from the mountain, _Thou shalt make no graven image_?\u201d\n\nThen came a more terrible crash than Sheo Deo had ever before heard;\nand the moment after there was the smell of burning, and then the glare\nof fire above. Lo! the lightning had struck the hut, and the thatch was\nblazing over the head of the wretched boy, who, paralyzed as he was,\ncould not even crawl out of the burning dwelling.\n\nThe red light glared on the image of Krishna; to the terrified Sheo Deo\nit seemed almost as if the idol had life!\n\n\u201cHelp me\u2014save me! Oh! save thy worshipper, great Krishna!\u201d he cried;\nwhile the heat around him grew more and more fearful, even as that of a\nfurnace.\n\nBut the image stirred not, heard not. The sparks were kindling upon it.\n\nThen, in the agony of his terror, the poor Hindu bethought him of the\nChristian\u2019s powerful God. Even in the presence of his idol he clasped his\nhands and uttered the cry, \u201cO Lord Jesus Christ, if Thou canst save me,\noh! save me!\u201d\n\nAt that moment Sheosahai burst into the blazing hut.\n\nThe Brahmin looked at his helpless boy lying on the mat, and then on the\nidol which he had so long worshipped. He had no time to save _both_;\nwhich should he leave to the devouring flames? Only one day previously\nthe Hindu might have hesitated in making his choice, but he did not\nhesitate now. He caught up his son in his arms; he bore him forth from\nthe fiery furnace. \u201cIf Krishna be a god he will save himself,\u201d muttered\nthe Brahmin.\n\nThe hut was soon burned to ashes, and the idol lay a heap of cinders\nwithin it.\n\nSheo Deo lived; and in the following year, after much instruction\nfrom the missionary, he and his father received the water of baptism,\nbelieving that which is written in the holy Scriptures: _This is life\neternal, that they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ\nwhom Thou hast sent._\n\n\nIII.\u2014THE MARKS ON THE SAND.\n\nA Mohammedan youth, Hakim Al\u00ed by name, on his return from a journey\nthrough Arabia, visited his friend Yuhanna, the Christian. Though the two\nheld not the same faith, there was much friendship between them.[49] They\nsat together under a p\u00e9pul tree, and Hakim Al\u00ed, with great animation,\ngave to Yuhanna an account of all that he had seen in his travels. For\na long time Yuhanna had all the listening, and his friend had all the\ntalking. In almost every sentence uttered by Hakim Al\u00ed, he brought in\nthe name of Allah (God); if he were but describing how a mule stumbled,\nor what evil fare he had had at an inn, he called God to bear witness to\nwhat he said\u2014even if he were laughing when the holy name was on his lips.\nYuhanna had a stick in his hand, and every time that Hakim Al\u00ed uttered\nthe sacred name, Yuhanna with the stick made a mark on the sand. Hakim\nAl\u00ed at last noticed with surprise this act of Yuhanna.\n\n\u201cWhat are you marking?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cDebts,\u201d was the brief reply.\n\n\u201cYou have many,\u201d laughed Hakim Al\u00ed, again using the name of the Highest;\nand again Yuhanna drew a line on the sand.\n\nThen Yuhanna, turning, asked a question: \u201cYou have visited many holy\nshrines and sacred tombs in your life, O Hakim Al\u00ed!\u201d said he; \u201cdid you\never take off your slippers before entering?\u201d[50]\n\nHakim Al\u00ed was so much astonished at the question, that more loudly than\never he uttered the name of Allah. \u201cDo you count me as an unclean swine?\u201d\nhe exclaimed; \u201cdo you doubt that I always take off my slippers on such\noccasions? Never without due reverence do I approach that which is holy.\u201d\n\nYuhanna pointed to the marks on the sand. \u201cO my friend!\u201d said he,\n\u201cfifteen times within the last hour have you shown no reverence for that\nwhich is most holy.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your meaning?\u201d exclaimed the astonished Hakim Al\u00ed, again lightly\nusing the sacred name of God.\n\nOnce more Yuhanna made a mark on the sand.\n\n\u201cIs a building made by the hands of men more to be reverenced than that\nsacred name before which the angels bow?\u201d said Yuhanna gravely. \u201cIs not\nevery time that that name is taken in vain marked down,\u2014not on sand,\nwhere it can be lightly effaced, but in that book of remembrance which\nis kept by the Highest? O my friend! it was the voice of the Almighty\nHimself that gave the command: _Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord\nthy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh His\nname in vain._ This command was written first by the finger of God on the\ntable of stone committed to Moses.\u201d[51]\n\n\u201cAre you Christians then so careful how you take the name of God on your\nlips?\u201d asked Hakim Al\u00ed, rising somewhat angrily from his seat.\n\n\u201cWe, of all men, should be most careful,\u201d replied his friend, \u201cfor in the\nprayer taught by the Lord Jesus Christ to His servants, the very first\npetition to God is, _Hallowed be Thy name_. If we use that name without\nreverence, our very prayer becomes a mockery, and we are convicted of\nsin before God. Solemn was the warning given by our Lord: _Every idle\nword that a man shall speak, he shall give account thereof in the day of\njudgment._\u201d\n\n\u201cWho then can stand in the day of judgment?\u201d asked Hakim Al\u00ed with a\ntroubled countenance, as with his foot he hastily erased the marks on the\nsand.\n\n\u201cNone can stand but those who can plead not their own righteousness, but\nthe righteousness of another,\u201d replied Yuhanna, looking upwards. \u201cLike\nthe prophet Isaiah I have often cried: _Woe is me! for I am undone, for\nI am a man of unclean lips_; but when I think of the blood that was shed\nby Christ on the cross for sinners, to my heart the answer comes: _Lo!\nthis hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin\npurged. There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus._\u201d\n\n\nIV.\u2014THE BEAUTIFUL GARDEN.\n\nThere was a certain man who had a young son, Azfur Al\u00ed by name, whom\nhe greatly loved, and whom he daily loaded with favours. One day this\nfather said unto Azfur Al\u00ed,\u2014\u201cCome with me into the garden which I have\npurchased and prepared that it may be a goodly possession for you, O my\nson!\u201d\n\nThe father then led the way to a beautiful garden, in which were all\nkinds of flowers,\u2014some lovely in colour, some sweet in scent. The garden\nwas divided into seven portions; and the flowers in the seventh portion\nwere white as snow on the tops of the mountains.\n\n\u201cNow, my son, take your pleasure in six portions of this garden,\u201d said\nthe father; \u201cbut the seventh I have kept for myself. Let not your foot\nwander over the border; enjoy the scent of the flowers from a little\ndistance, but lay not a hand upon them. Behold! they are mine, and in\nabstaining from touching them your obedience to me shall be shown. It\nis my love for you, Azfur Al\u00ed, that makes me thus reserve the seventh\nportion. To the white flowers which blossom there on the plants will\nsucceed a delicious fruit, to look upon which will be pleasure, and to\neat which will be health. The seventh portion is to be to you even a\ngreater blessing than the other six; but now I call it mine, so trespass\nnot on the ground reserved.\u201d\n\nAfter a while the father departed for a time to a distant place, leaving\nhis young son behind him.\n\nFrom morning till night Azfur Al\u00ed amused himself in the garden; he\ngathered the flowers at his pleasure, and formed wreaths of the fairest\nblossoms, red, yellow, and blue; but his eyes often wandered to the\nforbidden ground on which his feet were never to tread.\n\n\u201cWhy should I be tied and bound down to these six portions of the\ngarden?\u201d cried Azfur Al\u00ed. \u201cI do not like the scent of those white\nflowers; if I pulled them up, I could put in their place golden flowers\nthat I like much better. As for the fruit of which my father spoke, I do\nnot believe that it ever will come; at least, I cannot wait for it. A\nhard and unreasonable thing it is, to shut me out from a seventh part of\nmy garden.\u201d\n\nSo Azfur Al\u00ed ran into the forbidden ground, trampling down the plants,\nand crushing the fair white blossoms, and some he tore up by the roots.\nThen he tried to put in their place plants that had golden flowers; but\nthey flourished not, but withered, and the seventh portion of the garden\nwas soon covered with weeds, and became a desolation!\n\nWhen the father returned his wrath was great. \u201cAzfur Al\u00ed!\u201d he cried,\n\u201cthou hast broken my command, thou hast trespassed on the seventh portion\nof the garden which I reserved for myself, and hast destroyed the flowers\nwhich would have borne precious fruit. Thou hast forfeited all right\nfrom henceforth to possess any part of my garden.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis story is a parable. The garden is the garden of Time, and the\nseventh portion is the Sabbath which the Heavenly Father hath reserved\nfor Himself, as we read in His holy Word: _Remember the Sabbath day to\nkeep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: but the\nseventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do\nany work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy\nmaid-servant, thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: for\nin six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them\nis, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the seventh\nday, and hallowed it._\n\nThe white blossoms that grow in this garden are the blossoms of Prayer,\nand Praise, and Perusal of the Holy Scriptures. The fragrance of them\nis as the fragrance of the Garden of Eden. But the full sweetness of\nthe fruit which follows will be enjoyed in heaven, where the hymn of\npraise on earth will be changed for the song of the Lord\u2019s redeemed: _The\nkingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of the Lord and of His\nChrist, and He shall reign for ever and ever!_\n\n\nV.\u2014THE BLIND MOTHER.\n\nNand Kishore was driven from his home because he had become a Christian.\nHis dearest friends would not eat with him, or suffer him to cross their\nthresholds; his younger brother seized on his small property; and, worst\nof all, his widowed mother, Harmuzi, beating her breast, cursed her\nfirst-born, who had been to her as the apple of her eye. Then the soul\nof Nand Kishore was sorely smitten; in great grief he turned from the\ndoor of what had been his home from his childhood. But he remembered the\nwords of the Saviour for whose sake he had given up all: _If any man love\nfather or mother more than Me, he is not worthy of Me. Blessed are they\nthat are persecuted for righteousness\u2019 sake: for theirs is the kingdom of\nheaven._\n\nHarmuzi had in her anger cursed her first-born, but her heart clung to\nhim still. Great was her grief when, a year afterwards, she heard a\nreport of the death of Nand Kishore. And Harmuzi had other sore trials:\nblindness gradually came upon her, till at last all the light of heaven\nto her was darkened. And her son Mohendro showed her no love or respect.\nHe had married a proud woman, who despised her poor blind mother-in-law,\nand made her life bitter with cruel words. Mohendro more than once even\nstruck[52] his afflicted mother; and Harmuzi was treated as a slave in\nthe house which had once been her own.\n\n\u201cAh! my poor Nand Kishore would not have behaved to me thus!\u201d sighed the\nunhappy mother, when she remembered him whom she had cursed, only because\nhe had done what he felt to be right.\n\nHarmuzi\u2019s cruel daughter-in-law grudged her even the food which she ate.\n\u201cThou canst not grind the corn, or bring water from the well,\u201d she said;\n\u201cand yet thou dost devour our substance. Go out into the street and beg!\nWhen passers-by look on your blind eyes, they may at least put a handful\nof grain into your vessel.\u201d\n\nHungry and sad, and bowed down by sorrow, poor Harmuzi, wrapped in her\nchaddar, sat at the corner of a street, with a brass vessel, called a\nbartan, beside her, and held out her thin hand for alms. She had sat\nthere for hours, whilst many passed by her, but as yet she had received\nnothing from any one,\u2014not so much as a word of pity. At last Harmuzi\nheard a slight sound, as if something were being poured into her bartan;\nand when she put forth her hand to feel, lo! the vessel was full of\nrice. Then some one gently took the blind woman by the hand, and raised\nher, and led her back towards the house of the undutiful son. Harmuzi\nblessed the kind stranger again and again, and asked Vishnu to load him\nwith blessings. He who led her spake not a word in reply, but left her at\nthe corner of a street that was nigh to the house of her undutiful son.\n\nThe next day Harmuzi was again driven forth by her daughter-in-law to\nbeg, and felt her way slowly to the same spot where the merciful stranger\nhad found her. This time she had not to wait so long. Again was her\nbartan filled with rice, again the same gentle hand led the blind woman\nback; and she blessed him who had showed her mercy. But the stranger\nspake no word in reply.\n\nAnd this went on for many days. The supply of rice never failed, and\nHarmuzi knew not that he who filled her bartan often himself hungered\nthat she might be fed. Harmuzi marvelled that she never heard the sound\nof the stranger\u2019s voice. \u201cHe hath been smitten with dumbness,\u201d she said\nto herself.\n\nOne day poor Harmuzi, with bruise marks on her face, sat in her usual\nplace; she was bitterly weeping, for the hand of her wicked younger son\nhad been lifted up against his blind and helpless mother. At the sight\nof Harmuzi\u2019s bruises and tears, he who had so long restrained himself[53]\ncould keep silence no longer.\n\n\u201cO mother\u2014mother!\u201d he cried. Harmuzi knew the voice of her lost Nand\nKishore, and suddenly rising and stretching out her arms, she fell on his\nneck weeping.\n\n\u201cO my beloved!\u201d she cried, \u201cis it thou? How is it that thou hast so long\nfed and cared for her who, in an evil hour, cursed her own first-born\nson?\u201d\n\n\u201cDear to my soul!\u201d replied Nand Kishore, \u201cdo you not know that He who\nsaid, _He that loveth father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of\nMe_, also gave this command, _Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy\ndays may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee_?\u201d\n\n\nVI.\u2014A DANGEROUS VILLAGE.\n\nPadre Ware, a missionary, revisited a village in which four heads of\nfamilies, whose names were Nihal, Tara Chund, Chanda Lal, and Lala, had\nreceived the gospel, and been baptized. After an absence of six months\nPadre Ware returned to the village, hoping to find the four Christians\nfirm in the faith, and glorifying by their holy lives the Saviour whom\nthey had promised to serve. Alas! great was the sorrow of Padre Ware to\nfind that Satan had sown the seeds of discord and hatred amongst the\nlittle band who should have loved one another, even as Christ had loved\nthem. Nihal had a quarrel with Tara Chund about a bit of land; Chanda\nLal\u2019s wife had said bitter things against Lala\u2019s. None of the four would\nspeak with his neighbour. Even the coming of Padre Ware was a fresh cause\nof bitterness. Each one of the four men asked the missionary to abide in\nhis house; the Englishman could not go to the one without offending the\nother three. Where Padre Ware had hoped to find love and peace and joy,\nhe found anger, hatred, and strife.\n\nUnder the shade of a banyan-tree sat Padre Ware, with his Bible in his\nhand; and thither, to meet him, came Nihal, Tara Chund, Chanda Lal,\nand Lala,\u2014but they sat on the ground as far apart as they could from\neach other. Many of the villagers stood at a little distance to see the\nmissionary, and listen to his words; but none of these villagers wished\nto become Christians, for they said amongst themselves: \u201cPadre Ware, when\nhe was here before, told us that God is love, and Christ\u2019s religion a\nreligion of love; but behold these men who have been baptized, they will\nnot so much as eat together!\u201d\n\nPadre Ware looked sadly upon the four converts who were thus bringing\ndishonour on the name of Christians. For a few moments he lifted up his\nheart in prayer for them, and then he spoke aloud:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is the desire of my heart that all may be peace and love between you.\nNihal is the oldest amongst you: let us all go to his house, and take a\nmeal together, in token that all again are friends.\u201d\n\nBut Tara Chund shook his head and cried, \u201cNever will I cross the\nthreshold of Nihal!\u201d And Chanda Lal and Lala looked fiercely at each\nother, and muttered, \u201cWe never will eat together.\u201d\n\nThen said Padre Ware to the four: \u201cI have been for twelve years a\nmissionary. I have gone in and out amongst the people; I have never\nrefused to go to the house of him who invited me, nor to eat with any who\nwas willing to eat with me. Only once was I in a great difficulty: I went\nto one village where several were ready indeed to receive me, but I knew\nthat they all were murderers.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll murderers!\u201d exclaimed the astonished Christians. \u201cThat was an evil\nplace indeed.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was I to do?\u201d asked Padre Ware.\n\nAll the four answered as with one breath,\u2014\u201cGet out of that village as\nfast as your honour could.\u201d\n\nThen Padre Ware opened his Bible, and slowly read: _Whosoever hateth his\nbrother is a murderer, and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life\nabiding in him._\n\nThere was a great silence, and then the missionary went on:\u2014\u201cO my\nfriends! ye know that God hath commanded, _Thou shalt not kill_; and His\nWord hath shown us that this command reaches even to the thoughts of the\nheart. Ye call yourselves servants of that Saviour who loved His enemies,\nprayed for His enemies, died for His enemies; but oh! remember that they\nwho come to Him for pardon and life, must also follow Him in holiness and\nlove,\u2014for is it not written in the Scriptures of truth, _If any man have\nnot the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His_\u201d? (Rom. viii. 9).\n\nAgain there was a deep silence. Then Nihal arose from the ground, and\ngoing up to Tara Chund, offered his hookah;[54] and Tara Chund accepted\nit with a smile. The four Christians embraced one another; and before\nthe evening closed in, those who had been bitter enemies ate together as\nfriends and brethren in Christ.[55]\n\n\nVII.\u2014THE BEAUTIFUL PARDAH.\n\nIt is quite necessary to give a few words of introduction to the\nfollowing little story, as without it the meaning and drift of it would\nbe quite unintelligible to many British readers. Not all are aware that\nit is the custom of Mohammedans of the upper classes to seclude their\nwomen from sight; so that to allow the face to be seen by any man except\na husband or very near relative is accounted a shame and disgrace. This\ncustom is called \u201cpardah,\u201d and it has spread beyond the Mohammedans to\nsome of the Hindus, &c. A. L. O. E. has seen an old lady start from her\nseat as if in great alarm, and hide herself behind a chair, because an\naged gentleman had chanced to come in sight. Sometimes sufferers are\nshut out from receiving medical aid on account of pardah. At this moment\npardah is one of the greatest obstacles to baptism being received by one\nwhom we believe to be quite convinced of the truth of Christianity, and\nwhose husband is a noble-hearted Christian. Sometimes pardah is actually\nkept up by native _converts_; and this is a grievous hindrance to them,\nand besets their path with needless difficulties. There is in our\nmission church a little pardah room, indeed, in which women can, if they\nwish it, hear unseen; but how can a woman in pardah ever share the Holy\nCommunion\u2014how can she be actively useful amongst the heathen around her!\nPardah is the napkin under which a few native converts would hide their\ntalent, and one cannot but regard it rather as a kind of _fashion_, a\npiece of Oriental worldliness, than a token of superior delicacy of mind.\nA woman actually in the act of hiding her face will sometimes shock our\nfeelings of refinement in some other way.\n\nAnother little explanation is necessary. The word \u201cpardah\u201d[56] has two\nmeanings: one the state of seclusion which has been described; the other,\nthe _curtain_ which is the emblem of seclusion. Any curtain in an English\nlady\u2019s dwelling is a pardah, though she is never \u201cin pardah\u201d herself.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWaziren, a merchant\u2019s wife, came to visit Maryam, the wife of a moonshee.\nBoth of the women had been baptized as Christians, but the heart of\nWaziren still clung to many of the customs of her people; she retained\nprejudices in which she had been brought up from her childhood. Waziren\nnever came to church, lest she should break pardah; and would have\nthought it unseemly to meet at a meal even the dearest friend of her\nhusband. Waziren cared not to learn to read; her only pleasure was in her\njewels, and in gossip, in which her favourite topic always was the faults\nof her neighbours. It was for the sake of talking over news that Waziren\nnow took her seat on the _charpai_ (low bed) of Maryam.\n\n\u201cAre the tidings true,\u201d asked Waziren, \u201cthat your next-door neighbour,\nShadi Shah, arrived last night from England, a week before he was\nexpected?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is quite true,\u201d Maryam replied. \u201cIt was a great joy to Fatima to see\nher husband again after a six months\u2019 absence.\u201d\n\n\u201cA great joy, was it?\u201d said Waziren sneeringly; and she smiled an\nunpleasant smile. \u201cI should have thought that Fatima would have cared\nlittle if the absence of her husband had been one of six years, instead\nof six months.\u201d\n\nMaryam looked almost angry, for she saw that evil thoughts were in the\nmind of her neighbour. \u201cFatima is a good and faithful wife,\u201d she replied.\n\u201cHad Shadi Shah remained away for six years, he would, on his return,\nhave found her just the same as if he had never left her. Do you not\nknow, O Waziren! that Fatima has kept in strict pardah all the time of\nher husband\u2019s absence?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn pardah!\u201d exclaimed the astonished Waziren. \u201cNow, for once, O Maryam!\nI have found you uttering words of untruth! I happen to know that Fatima\nhas been to church every week since her husband\u2019s departure. I am sure\nthat she on foot has visited friends; nay, I have even heard that she has\ntaught in a school!\u201d Waziren looked duly indignant and shocked at such a\nbreach of Oriental customs, though quite aware that Maryam did all the\nthings which she professed to think so strange.\n\n\u201cFatima has done all this,\u201d replied Maryam, smiling; \u201cand yet she has\nkept strict pardah.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou amaze me!\u201d cried the merchant\u2019s wife.\n\n\u201cPerhaps you have never heard that in Fatima\u2019s house there is a very fine\npardah, beautiful and perfect, though of great antiquity,\u201d said Maryam.\n\u201cThis pardah is more valuable than any shawl or Cashmere, or piece of\ngolden embroidery, crusted all over with jewels!\u201d\n\n\u201cI think that you must have lost your wits!\u201d exclaimed Waziren, more\nand more astonished. \u201cI know no woman with fewer jewels than Fatima.\nI am sure that she cannot love her stingy husband. If she has such a\nsplendid pardah, she never had it from him. Pray, have you ever seen this\nwonderful pardah?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; and I have one just like it,\u201d replied Maryam, laying her hand on a\nbook beside her, which Waziren, though she could not read it, knew to be\nthe Bible.\n\n\u201cYou talk in riddles!\u201d cried the merchant\u2019s wife.\n\nMaryam opened the Holy Book. First, she found out in the Old Testament\nthe seventh commandment; and then she turned over to the New Testament\nand read aloud: _I will therefore that women adorn themselves in modest\napparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or\ngold, or pearls, or costly array; but (which becometh women professing\ngodliness) with good works_ (1 Tim. ii. 9, 10). Then from another place\nthe Christian woman read: _Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your\nown husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they may be won by the\nconversation of the wives; while they behold your chaste conversation\ncoupled with fear_ (1 Peter iii. 1). And then again Maryam found that\nplace where that word is written alike for men and women: _Follow peace\nwith all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord_\n(Heb. xii. 14). \u201cBehold,\u201d cried Maryam, closing the Bible, \u201chere is the\npardah treasured in the house and heart of Fatima; and as long as she\nkeeps within it, the Christian wife requires no other!\u201d\n\n\nVIII.\u2014THE BEARER\u2019S DREAM.\n\nGanesh Das, the Commissioner Sahib\u2019s Sardar bearer, sat with the Bible on\nhis knee; for Ganesh Das could read, and he had been well instructed in\nthe Christian religion. He was convinced that that religion is true, but\nhe loved it not, because it also is pure and holy. Ganesh Das had read\nthe commandment, _Thou shalt not steal_ (Ex. xx. 15); his finger was now\non the words: _Exhort servants to be obedient to their own masters, and\nto please them well in all things; not answering again; not purloining,\nbut shewing all good fidelity; that they may adorn the doctrine of God\nour Saviour in all things_ (Titus ii. 9, 10). Ganesh Das with vexation\nclosed the Bible and pushed it aside.\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d he cried; \u201cmust I, if I be baptized, give up all cheating, get\nnothing but my pay, never take from my rich master one pie that is\nnot lawfully mine! No, no; this is more than I can do! Let others be\nChristians,\u2014Ganesh Das cannot break off from the habit of years, and make\nhimself poor for the sake of the gospel!\u201d\n\nThat night Ganesh Das had a dream. He dreamed that he and many others\nstood in a slave-market, heavily chained, and the voice of wailing was\nheard around. One who wore a black robe stood near, and to him Ganesh\nDas addressed this question,\u2014\n\n\u201cWhy are we chained here? What hath brought us into this place of shame\nand sorrow?\u201d\n\n\u201cO lost one!\u201d replied the stranger, \u201cthou and all around thee have been\nsold to a fearful tyrant, who, after ye have done his work, will cast you\ninto devouring flames, for thus he always treats his slaves when their\ntime of labour for him is ended.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow came we to be slaves? What villain hath sold us?\u201d exclaimed the\nindignant Sardar.\n\n\u201cO man!\u201d the stranger replied, \u201cno one is here that hath not sold himself\ninto bondage; and lo! the money which he hath received in exchange for\nhis soul is now the chain with which he is bound. Fools, fools! hath not\nChrist said: _What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and\nlose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?_\u201d\n(Mark viii. 36.)\n\nEven as he spoke there was a fearful noise of drums, mingled with shrieks\nand howlings: the tyrant was coming to the slave-market to claim his\nvictims.\n\nGanesh Das in his dream trembled exceedingly, for never had he beheld a\nform so horrible as that which he looked on now. The glare of the enemy\u2019s\neyes was as the glare of the tiger\u2019s when he rangeth the jungle at night\nfor his prey. The tyrant advanced to the first of the slaves, and Ganesh\nDas saw a poor wretch crouching down in extreme terror at the feet of the\nsoul-destroyer.\n\nThen he of the black robe said: \u201cBehold! this wretch is a mighty vizier,\nwho became wealthy as a rajah through the bribes which he took. Look at\nthe gold and the jewels which bind him now, so that he cannot so much as\nlook up!\u201d\n\nGanesh Das looked, and behold the golden chains were eating into the very\nflesh of the man who had sold himself to the soul-destroyer.\n\n\u201cHe is mine!\u201d cried the tyrant; \u201cbear him away!\u201d\n\nThen he advanced to the slave who was next to Ganesh Das,\u2014a man who stood\nwith his eyes almost starting from his head with terror, whilst he vainly\ntried to burst fetters made of silver rupees.\n\n\u201cThis is a dacoit,\u201d[57] said he of the black robe; \u201che hath sold himself\nfor the silver chain which thou seest.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is mine!\u201d cried the tyrant; \u201cbear him away!\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be next,\u201d thought the terrified dreamer. He looked down on his\nown galling chains, and lo! they were formed of innumerable pice and\npies, the fruit of petty frauds for which he had sold his soul. The\ndestroyer approached; the trembling Sardar seemed already to hear the\ndoom, \u201cHe is mine! bear him away!\u201d The poor wretch made so desperate an\neffort to burst his chains, that lo! he awoke from his dream.\n\nGanesh Das still trembled, but he was thankful that his day of grace was\nnot yet past, that it was not yet too late to escape the soul-destroyer.\nHe fell on his knees, repeating words which he had learned from the\nBible: _Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his\nthoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon\nhim; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon_ (Isa. lv. 7). _For\nthe wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through\nJesus Christ our Lord_ (Rom. vi. 23).\n\n\nIX.\u2014THE CRACKED SCENT-BOTTLE.\n\nMohendro, the Padre Sahib\u2019s bearer, saw that Melo, the Mem Sahiba\u2019s new\nayah,[58] had a troubled countenance.\n\n\u201cWhy are you troubled, Melo?\u201d asked he.\n\n\u201cWhen dusting the Mem Sahiba\u2019s room,\u201d replied Melo, \u201cI threw down her\nbeautiful scent-bottle. The scent-bottle was cracked, and the sweet\nwater was all spilt.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat matters it to you?\u201d said the bearer, smiling. \u201cYou have been but\none day in the house; put the bottle back in its place, and when the Mem\nSahiba sees that it has been emptied and cracked, say that you found it\nso, and that the last ayah certainly did the mischief.\u201d\n\nA short time before, Melo would have thought nothing of telling a\nlie; but she was now a baptized Christian, and had been taught God\u2019s\nCommandments. Melo knew that one of them is, _Thou shalt not bear false\nwitness against thy neighbour_ (Ex. xx. 16). Melo had resolved to keep\na strict watch over her lips, for she had learned the text: _Lying lips\nare abomination to the Lord_ (Prov. xii. 22). \u201cI am afraid to tell my Mem\nSahiba a lie,\u201d she replied.\n\nThe bearer laughed at her words. \u201cWhy, to lie comes as natural as to\neat!\u201d he cried. \u201cThe last ayah has gone away to Benares, so your lie will\ndo no harm to any one in the world.\u201d\n\nMelo thought to herself, \u201cWill it do no harm to myself?\u201d But Melo was but\na new Christian; habit is strong, and she had been accustomed to tell\nlies from the time that she first could speak. Melo resolved that when\nher Mem Sahiba noticed the harm done to the scent-bottle, she would say\nthat the last ayah had done it. She was timid, and could not bear that\nthe Mem Sahiba, whose service she had just entered, should think her\ncareless.\n\nThe Padre Sahib had morning prayers in Urdu, and such of his servants\nas were Christians were always allowed to attend. It was the first time\nthat Melo had ever been present at family worship. She sat on the carpet,\nwatching the Sahib as he unclosed the Holy Book. On the knees of the Mem\nSahiba sat her little boy Henry, a lovely blue-eyed child of four years\nof age.\n\nThe Sahib read about heaven; of the bright happy home of those who have\nbelieved in the Lord Jesus Christ, and who, believing, have loved and\nobeyed Him. Melo did not know this part of the Bible at all. She listened\nwith delight to the account of the glorious place, till the reader\ncame to the following words:\u2014_And there shall in no wise enter into it\nanything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh\na lie_ (Rev. xxi. 27).\n\nMelo was startled to hear this. \u201cShall I be shut out from heaven?\u201d she\nsaid to herself. But Melo could not even yet make up her mind to tell her\nMem Sahiba all the truth about her beautiful scent-bottle.\n\nWhen prayers were over, Melo was ordered to take Baba Henry into the\ngarden; for it was the cold season, and the weather was not yet too hot.\nMelo loved children very much, and it was with pleasure that she watched\nthe gambols of the fair little English boy.\n\nHenry ran about the garden, and in his play he forgot to keep to the\ngravel path. Carelessly running across the border, the child brushed past\na beautiful flower which he knew that his mother greatly prized, and in\ndoing so broke off its head. The child stood still at once, and looked\nwith vexation at the mischief which he had done.\n\n\u201cOh! mamma told me not to run over the border, or to touch the flowers!\nShe will be so vexed!\u201d cried the child, almost bursting into tears.\n\n\u201cNever mind, Baba Henry,\u201d said Melo; \u201cyou need say nothing to the Mem\nSahiba about the matter.\u201d\n\nThe boy looked indignantly into the face of the ayah with his steady blue\neyes. \u201cIf I did not tell the truth, God would be angry,\u201d he cried; and\noff darted the child, to confess everything to his mother.\n\nMelo looked after him, and tears came into her eyes. \u201cShall that little\none fear God and speak truth?\u201d she exclaimed; \u201cand shall I, who have\ngiven myself to the God of truth, tell lies like a heathen? O Lord! help\nme to put away this great sin!\u201d And quickly Melo followed her little\ncharge, and confessed to her Mem Sahiba that she had thrown down and\ncracked her bottle.\n\nAnd was the Mem Sahiba angry? No; her words were: \u201cI thank God that I\nhave at last a servant whose word I can trust.\u201d\n\n\nX.\u2014THE FALL, THE CHEETAH, AND THE CUP.\n\nJai Singh, a man of good family, but poor, stood by the side of the road\nas Parduman, once his boyhood\u2019s companion, rode by. Parduman was mounted\non an Arab horse of great value, richly caparisoned; and two syces\nattended their master. Envy and covetousness awoke in the heart of Jai\nSingh as he gazed.\n\n\u201cWhy should that fellow have all life\u2019s honey, and I he left the gall?\u201d\nhe exclaimed. \u201cWould that your horse were mine; ay, and the heavy bags of\nrupees also, that have fallen to the lot of one less worthy than myself\nto possess them!\u201d\n\n\u201cO my son, beware of desiring that which is another\u2019s!\u201d said Isaac, the\naged catechist, who had been a friend and teacher of Jai Singh from his\nchildhood, and who, chancing to be near, had overheard the exclamation.\n\u201cIn the Word of God it is written: _Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour\u2019s\nhouse, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour\u2019s wife, nor his man-servant,\nnor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy\nneighbour\u2019s_\u201d (Ex. xx. 17).\n\n\u201cWhat matters the thought, if the act be blameless?\u201d inquired Jai Singh.\n\u201cI will never lift up my hand to steal or to slay.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs the seed to the plant, as the crocodile\u2019s egg to the living reptile,\nso is the thought of the heart to the deed of the hand,\u201d answered old\nIsaac. \u201cMan seeth the action, God searcheth the heart. In God\u2019s sight he\nthat hateth, murders; and he that coveteth, steals. It is written in the\nBible: _The love of money is the root of all evil_ (1 Tim. vi. 10). Dig\nup the root, and no poisonous fruits can appear.\u201d\n\nJai Singh shrank from the purity of such a religion as this, which must\nconvict all men of sin before God. Rather impatiently he said, \u201cUnless\nevil be seen, I deny that it is evil at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cHear an incident of my life which has been to me as a parable,\u201d said\nold Isaac. \u201cBefore I had one white hair in my beard, I went on a journey\nin a mountainous part of our land. Going up a steep place, my horse\nstumbled and threw me, and I fell down a precipice; but my dress caught\nin some bushes, and though hurt I was able to regain the road and again\nmount my horse. Riding on again, I had not gone far when a cheetah burst\nfrom the thicket, and suddenly sprang upon me. I was a strong man then,\nand carried a sharp knife in my girdle; after a struggle the cheetah\nwas killed, but I bear on me the marks of its claws to this day. Weary\nand weakened by the loss of blood, I was forced to stop at the nearest\nhouse, though it was the house of one whom I had known as a deadly enemy.\nHe received me with sullen looks, but denied me not rest nor food. He\nbrought to me a cup of wine, and I drank it; I knew not that there was\npoison in the cup. The evil that I saw not, O Jai Singh! was worse\nthan the more startling dangers through which I had passed. I suffered\nmore from the poison hidden in my frame, than from the fall down the\nprecipice, or the claws of the cheetah.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it that you are here to-day, if you were poisoned?\u201d inquired Jai\nSingh.\n\n\u201cWhen, after leaving my enemy\u2019s house, I arrived at the place for which I\nwas bound,\u201d replied Isaac, \u201cI was in sore sickness and pain; but I found\nthere a doctor of great skill, who gave me a powerful antidote, and after\nmuch suffering I rose from my sick-bed healed. And from the Christian\ndoctor I also received knowledge of the only antidote for sin,\u2014whether\nit be the open sin which man condemns, or the poison of sin, such as\ncovetousness, lying concealed in the heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe taught you Christianity,\u201d observed Jai Singh.\n\n\u201cHe taught me that for all past sin there is one remedy freely offered\nby God to all who truly believe: _The blood of Jesus Christ His Son\ncleanseth us from all sin_ (1 John i. 7). But we need more than to be\nsaved from the punishment of sin; we need to be saved from its power. The\nheart, the seat of evil, must itself be made pure by the Holy Spirit of\nGod. And this Spirit is promised in answer to prayer. Let us cry, with\nDavid in the psalm: _Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right\nspirit within me_ (Psalm li. 10). For thus spake the Saviour of mankind:\n_If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children: how\nmuch more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that\nask Him?_\u201d (Luke xi. 13.)\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] A kind of large Oriental pipe.\n\n[2] One of the difficulties experienced in writing for natives is\nthe selection of names. The Hindus, Sikhs, and Mohammedans have all\n_quite different sets of names_; and to give one member of a family a\nMohammedan, and another a Hindu name, would be a very serious mistake in\nan author. A government inspector of schools has very kindly supplied A.\nL. O. E. with carefully arranged lists of names.\n\n[3] An enormous kind of fan swung across the room, the motion of which\nrenders the heat more supportable.\n\n[4] A rupee is worth less than two shillings.\n\n[5] A name for the houses of European gentlemen.\n\n[6] A name commonly given to missionaries.\n\n[7] English gentleman.\n\n[8] The common form of greeting, meaning, \u201cPeace be to you.\u201d\n\n[9] Note.\n\n[10] As not even the missionaries knew in what manner a woman of good\nfamily would address her husband, a native was consulted on the question.\nIn Amritsar we have the advantage of having a converted Brahman on the\none side, and a converted Mohammedan of position on the other, from whom\nwe can gather information on such matters.\n\n[11] Husbandmen.\n\n[12] A small copper coin.\n\n[13] A very beautiful marble building in Agra.\n\n[14] The pugree worn by natives in the Punjaub, both old and young,\nis often formed of many yards of a very light material, wrapped round\nand round so as to form a turban. The pugree worn by Europeans as a\nprotection from the heat is much smaller, and worn in a different manner.\n\n[15] A moonshee is a teacher of languages. The moonshee employed by A. L.\nO. E. on her first arrival in Amritsar was a convert from Mohammedanism,\nand a noble specimen of the class.\n\n[16] A baboo is one of an upper class; the title in this part of India\nsomewhat resembles our \u201cMr.\u201d\n\n[17] This is no fictitious picture of the trials of some of the converts.\n\n[18] A very common word used to describe any grand show or scene of\nexcitement.\n\n[19] Yuhanna (John) is a Christian name. On receiving baptism, sometimes\na new name is adopted; sometimes, as with Hassan, the old one is retained.\n\n[20] Title given to a native lady.\n\n[21] Groom.\n\n[22] Native pony.\n\n[23] The natives of India like to expend large sums on such occasions,\neven if they plunge themselves deep into debt to defray the expenses.\n\n[24] Custom; a word which has far more force in India than in England.\n\n[25] A kind of bracelet.\n\n[26] The love of Indian women for ornaments must not be measured by that\nof English maidens. There is nothing very remarkable here in the sight\nof a woman wearing at one time _twelve_ ear-rings, at least as many\nbracelets, besides necklace, nose-ring, anklets, and silver plates on her\ntoes! Converts do not wear so many.\n\n[27] The chaddar (literally sheet) is a garment not worn in all parts of\nIndia, but very commonly in the Punjaub. It is something like a large\nveil, made of muslin or some other light material, and is worn in the\nhouse as well as out of it. Anything more graceful, picturesque, and\nmodest-looking can hardly be imagined.\n\n[28] English lady.\n\n[29] Those conversant with India need not be told that a fearful want\nof truthfulness prevails amongst the natives. Against this evil the\nattention of missionaries has been earnestly directed, and in some\ncases with great success. A. L. O. E. heard since her arrival a story\nof a school in Calcutta (she believes, however, that it was a Eurasian\nschool). A prize was offered in it for truthfulness, and as it would have\nbeen almost impossible for a teacher to have adjudged the prize to the\nsatisfaction of all, to the girls themselves the decision was left. All\nthe children fixed upon one of their companions as the most truthful girl\nin the school. The wisdom of their choice was shown by the conscientious\ngirl\u2019s declining to accept the prize, for she did not think herself\n_truthful enough_ to deserve it!\n\n[30] The first native of India who saw the translation of this little\nstory\u2014a refined and educated man\u2014was much struck by the new view\npresented to him of his parental duty. He actually, very shortly\nafterwards, _punished his child for telling a lie_. The little boy was\nprobably surprised at receiving chastisement for what is usually deemed\nsuch a very trifling offence; but the punishment (not a severe one)\nseemed to have made an impression on his young mind. Soon afterwards, on\nhis sister asking him whether something which he had said were true, the\nchild, with a new sense of the evil of falsehood, said, \u201cDo you not know\nthat God is angry when we tell lies?\u201d\n\n[31] The worshippers of various heathen deities may be distinguished by\ndifferently shaped marks on their foreheads.\n\n[32] The Ganges is regarded as a peculiarly sacred river.\n\n[33] In India, as in France, it is very uncourteous to use the third\nperson singular Where I am, even servants are addressed as \u201cyou.\u201d\n\n[34] In happy England, the difficulty of crossing the river of Baptism\nto many converts in India can hardly be appreciated. To do so is to pass\nthe Rubicon, to cut the tie which connects the believer with all that was\ndear upon earth, to cast away honour, friendship, enjoyment; it is indeed\nto take up the Cross! One of our noblest Punjaubi Christians lingered\nfive years before he was given courage to cross the river. One youth was\nbrought into court to declare whether it was his deliberate choice to\nbecome a Christian. His mother drew forth a knife, and told her son that\nif he were baptized she would plunge it into her own bosom! I have seen\nanother youth who could well bear witness to the sharpness of the thorns\nof Persecution. His own father made him stand in _boiling oil_, till the\nskin was burnt off his poor feet! But he has crossed the river.\n\n[35] A tendency to fatalism in the Oriental character is one of the great\ndifficulties with which missionaries have to contend. It gives to the\ntimid convert an excuse for indolence and apathy. \u201cIf it be God\u2019s will, I\nshall have the blessing,\u201d he thinks or professes to think \u201cwithout making\nany struggle to obtain it.\u201d\n\n[36] Oriental pipe.\n\n[37] Probably at least a dozen.\n\n[38] _The sin which doth so easily beset us._\u2014Heb. xii. 1.\n\n[39] Let not the meaning of my little parable be misunderstood. Even the\ntrue believer must expect many assaults of Temptation, many a struggle\nwith besetting sin. The pearl, Purity, is perfected only in a brighter\nworld. Nevertheless, not only Christ\u2019s imputed righteousness, but a\n_growing likeness_ to Him who said, \u201cLearn of Me,\u201d is one of God\u2019s\nfree gifts to His children through the indwelling of His Spirit. It is\nparticularly necessary to enforce this truth in a land like India, where\neven sincere converts find it very hard to lead _consistent_ lives, after\nhaving been brought up in the paths of sin.\n\n[40] Native Christian parents are here intended, some of whom send their\nchildren to schools conducted by missionaries.\n\n[41] The character of Ghuldasta has been drawn from Indian life; some of\nour little British maidens may, however, find that some of its features\nare by no means confined to girls of Hindostan.\n\n[42] This hymn (translated) is a great favourite in this country. Even\nheathen and Mohammedan children like to sing it, as well as native\nChristians.\n\n[43] This is a natural view to be taken by one half persuaded, who would\nmake the inconsistencies of professed believers an excuse for not joining\ntheir ranks. It is but fair, however, to the native Christians, for whom\nthis tale was specially written, to say that their standard of morality\nis much higher than that which is adopted by their heathen neighbours.\n\n[44] An anna is about three half-pence. There are twelve pies in an anna.\n\n[45] The quantity of ornaments worn by women even of the humbler classes\nis at first surprising to a European. A woman will in _one ear_ wear\neight or ten rings, and as many bracelets on each arm. Her feet, also,\nare frequently adorned.\n\n[46] It will be observed by those who know the East that Hossein was a\nMohammedan, and not an idolatrous Hindu. In India there are different\nreligions, not only varying from, but actually opposed to each other.\nMany Mohammedans in India have a considerable amount of religious\nknowledge.\n\n[47] Abbas was, of course, a native Christian.\n\n[48] These _melas_ afford grand opportunities to the missionary, both for\npreaching and selling books.\n\n[49] A. L. O. E. has herself heard a Mohammedan speak of Christian\nconverts as his friends. She is on terms of affectionate intercourse with\nMohammedan ladies.\n\n[50] Not to do so is a mark of great disrespect. A native on entering a\ngentleman\u2019s house leaves his slippers at the door.\n\n[51] Moses is reverenced by Mohammedans as well as by Christians.\n\n[52] When my friend Mrs. E. was staying in a Punjaubi village, she was\nshocked to hear of one of the natives having beaten his mother. When\nshe said that in England such a sin would be punished, her observation\nexcited _general amusement_. Why should she be shocked at an event of\nsuch common occurrence?\n\n[53] The convert probably restrained himself lest his mother should\nrefuse to accept from his polluted touch even food needful to save her\nfrom starvation. But with the blind woman nature was too strong even for\nHindu prejudice.\n\n[54] Offering the hookah (a kind of pipe) was an alteration suggested\nby one who has intimate acquaintance with Oriental customs. The words\noriginally stood: \u201cHeld out his hand; and Tara Chund grasped it,\u201d &c.\nThis would have made the whole story unnatural.\n\n[55] This little story is founded on what really happened in a village\nnot very far from Amritsar, but the words which produced a reconciliation\nwere really spoken by one of the four who had quarrelled. A. L. O. E.\nheard a graphic account of the scene from a gentleman who had been\npresent. That the reconciliation was not merely outward, seems to be\nproved by the fact that some little time afterwards the four Christian\nvillagers came in a body and partook of the Holy Communion in the mission\nchurch of Amritsar.\n\n[56] Pronounced _purdah_.\n\n[57] Robber.\n\n[58] Female attendant.\n\n\n\n\nFavourite Stories, etc., by A. L. O. E.\n\n\n    =The Blacksmith of Boniface Lane.= Post 8vo, cloth extra. 2s.\n    6d.\n\n_A tale having an historical basis. Its hero is John Badby, the Lollard\nblacksmith, who perished at the stake. The incidents and characters are\nportrayed with all the freshness and picturesqueness common to A. L. O.\nE.\u2019s works._\n\n    =Beyond the Black Waters.= A Tale. Post 8vo, cl. ex. 2s. 6d.\n\n_A story illustrating the truth that \u201csorrow tracketh wrong,\u201d and that\nthere can be no peace of conscience till sin has been confessed both\nto God and man, and forgiveness obtained. The scene is laid chiefly in\nBritish Burmah._\n\n    =Harold\u2019s Bride.= Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_An interesting story, written in the author\u2019s characteristic style, and\naffording instructive glimpses of the hardships and dangers of missionary\nlife in the rural districts of India._\n\n    =Pride and His Prisoners.= Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale for the young, partly allegorical, to show the fatal effects of\npride on character and happiness._\n\n    =Rambles of a Rat.= Illustrated. Post 8vo, cloth extra, gilt\n    edges. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A rat telling his own story, with many facts of the natural history and\nhabits of rats._\n\n    =The Robbers\u2019 Cave.= A Story of Italy. Illustrated. Post 8vo,\n    cloth extra, gilt edges. 2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale for the young. The adventures of an English youth among Italian\nbrigands. With tinted illustrations._\n\n    =The Triumph over Midian.= With Frontispiece and Vignette. Post\n    8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale for the young, illustrative of the Scripture history of Gideon._\n\n    =Fairy Know-a-Bit=; or, A Nutshell of Knowledge. With upwards\n    of 40 Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n    =Fairy Frisket=; or, Peeps at Insect Life. With upwards of 50\n    Engravings. Post 8vo, cl. ex. 2s.\n\n_Fairy teachers (a sequel to \u201cFairy Know-a-Bit\u201d), and lessons from insect\nlife and natural history._\n\n    =The Holiday Chaplet of Stories.= With Eight Engravings. Post\n    8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n_Thirty-eight short stories for the young._\n\n    =My Neighbour\u2019s Shoes=; or, Feeling for Others. Illustrated.\n    Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 1s.\n\n_A fairy tale, enforcing the duty and happiness of kindness and sympathy\ntowards all around us._\n\n    =Old Friends with New Faces.= Illustrated. Post 8vo, cl. ex. 1s.\n\n_A tale for children, in which some old favourite stories\u2014Bluebeard, the\nFisherman and the Genii, etc.\u2014are introduced in an allegorical form, with\nincidents that illustrate them._\n\n    =Parliament in the Playroom=; or, Law and Order made Amusing.\n    With Illustrations. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n    =The Sunday Chaplet of Stories.= With Eight Engravings. Post\n    8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n_The thirty-two stories in this volume are suitable for Sunday reading.\nChristian principles are taught in them without heaviness or dulness. It\nis a good book for the home circle, or for the Sunday school._\n\n    =The Golden Fleece=; or, Who Wins the Prize? _New Edition._\n    Foolscap 8vo, cloth extra. 1s. 6d.\n\n    =The Story of a Needle.= Illustrated. Foolscap 8vo, cloth\n    extra. Price 1s. 6d.\n\n_A tale for the young, interwoven with a description of the manufacture,\nuses, and adventures of a needle._\n\n\n\n\nStories of Home and School Life.\n\n\n    =Stepping Heavenward.= A Tale of Home Life. By the Author of\n    \u201cThe Flower of the Family,\u201d etc. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price\n    2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale of girlhood and early married life, with discipline and trials,\nall resulting in good at last. Every girl should read this remarkably\ntruthful and fascinating book._\n\n    =Ever Heavenward=; or, A Mother\u2019s Influence. By the Author of\n    \u201cStepping Heavenward,\u201d \u201cThe Flower of the Family,\u201d etc. Post\n    8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale of home life, with its ordinary joys and sorrows, under the\nguidance of its leading spirit,\u2014a wise, loving, pious mother._\n\n    =The Flower of the Family.= A Tale of Domestic Life. By the\n    Author of \u201cStepping Heavenward,\u201d etc. Post 8vo, cloth extra.\n    Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale of home life,\u2014the central figure being an unselfish, devoted,\npious eldest daughter._\n\n    =Changed Scenes=; or, The Castle and the Cottage. By Lady\n    HOPE, Author of \u201cOur Coffee House,\u201d \u201cA Maiden\u2019s Work,\u201d \u201cSunny\n    Footsteps,\u201d etc. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_An interesting story for girls, of two English orphans and their\nguardian, in the course of which valuable moral and religious lessons are\nconveyed by some pleasing allegories._\n\n    =Almost a Hero=; or, School Days at Ashcombe. By ROBERT\n    RICHARDSON, Author of \u201cThe Story of the Niger,\u201d \u201cRalph\u2019s Year\n    in Russia,\u201d etc. With Seven Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth extra.\n    Price 2s. 6d.\n\n    =A Thorny Way.= By MARY BRADFORD WHITING. Post 8vo, cloth\n    extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A very interesting story, in which the character-sketches show no little\ndiscernment._\n\n    =A True Hero=; or, The Story of Amos Huntingdon. A Tale of\n    Moral Courage. By Rev. T. P. WILSON, M.A., Vicar of Pavenham;\n    Author of \u201cFrank Oldfield,\u201d \u201cTrue to His Colours,\u201d etc. Small\n    crown 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A tale illustrative of moral courage, with examples taken from real\nlife._\n\n    =Aunt Judith.= The Story of a Loving Life. By GRACE BEAUMONT.\n    Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A simple and touching story of the blessed influence exerted by a\nChrist-like life (Aunt Judith\u2019s) on all who came in contact with it._\n\n    =Edith Raymond, and the Story of Huldah Brent\u2019s Will.= A Tale.\n    By S. S. ROBBINS. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A curious story of the forging of a will, in his own interest, by an\navaricious lawyer, of the immediate consequences of the deed, and of\nthe peculiar way in which it was discovered, and the humiliation of the\nforger._\n\n    =Follow the Right.= A Tale for Boys. By G. E. WYATT, Author of\n    \u201cArchie Digby,\u201d \u201cLionel Harcourt,\u201d \u201cHarry Bertram,\u201d etc. Post\n    8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_The hero of this story is an Etonian who is possessed of a moral nature\nremarkable for its strength and power; and the book is written with\nsprightliness and vigour._\n\n\n\n\nPrize Temperance Tales.\n\n\nONE HUNDRED POUND PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Frank Oldfield=; or, Lost and Found. By the Rev. T. P. WILSON,\n    M.A. With Five Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 3s. 6d.\n\n_An interesting prize temperance tale; the scene partly in Lancashire,\npartly in Australia._\n\n\nONE HUNDRED POUND PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Sought and Saved.= By M. A. PAULL, Author of \u201cTim\u2019s Troubles;\n    or, Tried and True.\u201d With Six Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth\n    extra. Price 3s. 6d.\n\n_A prize temperance tale for the young. With illustrative engravings._\n\n\nONE HUNDRED POUND PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Through Storm to Sunshine.= By WILLIAM J. LACEY, Author of \u201cA\n    Life\u2019s Motto,\u201d \u201cThe Captain\u2019s Plot,\u201d etc. With Illustrations.\n    Post 8vo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d.\n\n_This interesting tale was selected by the Band of Hope Union last year,\nfrom among thirty-seven others, as worthy of the \u00a3100 prize. It now forms\na beautiful volume, with six good illustrations._\n\n\nFIFTY POUND PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Tim\u2019s Troubles=; or, Tried and True. By M. A. PAULL. With Five\n    Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 3s. 6d.\n\n_A prize temperance tale for young persons, the hero an Irish boy, who\nowes everything in after life to having joined a Band of Hope in boyhood._\n\n\nFIFTY POUND PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Lionel Franklin\u2019s Victory.= By E. VAN SOMMER. With Six\n    Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 3s. 6d.\n\n_An interesting prize temperance tale for the young, with illustrative\nengravings._\n\n\nSEVENTY POUND PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =The Naresborough Victory.= A Story in Five Parts. By the Rev.\n    T. KEYWORTH, Author of \u201cDick the Newsboy,\u201d \u201cGreen and Grey,\u201d\n    etc., etc. With Illustrations. Post 8vo, cloth extra. 2s. 6d.\n\n\u201c_In construction the story is good, in style it is excellent, and it is\ncertain to be a general favourite._\u201d\u2014MANCHESTER EXAMINER.\n\n\u201c_Attractive in its incidents and forcible in its lessons._\u201d\u2014LIVERPOOL\nALBION.\n\n\nSPECIAL PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Owen\u2019s Hobby=; or, Strength in Weakness. A Tale. By ELMER\n    BURLEIGH. Illustrated. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_Replete with touching, often saddening, and frequently amusing\nincidents._\n\n\nSPECIAL PRIZE TALE.\n\n    =Every-Day Doings.= By HELLENA RICHARDSON. With Six\n    Illustrations. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n_A prize temperance tale, \u201cwritten for an earnest purpose,\u201d and\nconsisting almost entirely of facts._\n\n    =By Uphill Paths=; or, Waiting and Winning. A Story of Work\n    to be Done. By E. VAN SOMMER, Author of \u201cLionel Franklin\u2019s\n    Victory.\u201d Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d.\n\n    =True to His Colours=; or, The Life that Wears Best. By the\n    Rev. T. P. WILSON, M.A., Vicar of Pavenham, Author of \u201cFrank\n    Oldfield,\u201d etc. With Six Engravings. Post 8vo, cloth extra.\n    Price 3s. 6d.\n\n_An interesting tale\u2014the scene laid in England\u2014illustrating the influence\nover others for good of one consistent Christian man and temperance\nadvocate._\n\n\n\n\nThe Girls\u2019 Own Library.\n\n\nFIVE BOOKS BY \u201cPANSY.\u201d\n\n    =A New Graft on the Family Tree.= By PANSY. Post 8vo, cloth\n    extra. Price 2s.\n\n_A young wife goes with her husband to his father\u2019s country home, and by\nher tact and religious influence brings a blessing there._\n\n    =Esther Reid.= By PANSY, Author of \u201cA Hedge Fence,\u201d \u201cSide by\n    Side,\u201d \u201cA New Graft on the Family Tree,\u201d etc. Post 8vo, cloth\n    extra. Price 2s.\n\n    =Following Heavenward=; or, The Story of Alfred Reid. By PANSY,\n    Author of \u201cA New Graft on the Family Tree,\u201d \u201cEsther Reid,\u201d etc.\n    Post 8vo, cloth extra. 2s.\n\n    =Out in the World.= By PANSY, Author of \u201cA New Graft on the\n    Family Tree,\u201d \u201cA Hedge Fence,\u201d etc. Post 8vo, cloth extra. 2s.\n\n    =Workers Together=; or, An Endless Chain. By PANSY, Author of\n    \u201cEsther Reid,\u201d \u201cA New Graft on the Family Tree,\u201d etc. Post 8vo,\n    cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n\u201c_The reader will find it hard to resist the skill of their dramatic\nnarrative style, and their vivid presentment of various types of\ncharacter. There are two distinct impressions which \u2018Pansy\u2019s\u2019 stories\nwill leave on most people\u2014those of the intense earnestness of her own\nconvictions, and of her sense of the need of bringing religion into all\nthe details of every-day life._\u201d\u2014SCOTTISH LEADER.\n\n    =Anna Lee.= _The Maiden\u2014The Wife\u2014The Mother._ By T. S. ARTHUR.\n    Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n_A tale. Fidelity to the duties of one relation prepares for happiness in\nthe next: a good daughter will be a good wife and mother._\n\n    =Annie Donaldson=; or, Evenings in a Happy Home. By Miss\n    M\u2019INTOSH. A Tale. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n_Christmas holidays in a country-house, each evening enlivened by a\nstory, connected with one of a series of drawings from the portfolio of\nan artist visitor._\n\n    =Georgie Merton=; or, Only a Girl. By FLORENCE HARRINGTON. With\n    Illustrations. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n_A most interesting tale for young people, with admirable etched\nillustrations. The heroine, \u201conly a girl,\u201d is a noble example of courage,\nspirit, and fortitude._\n\n    =Little Susy\u2019s Six Birthdays=, and Other Stories. By the Author\n    of \u201cStepping Heavenward,\u201d etc. Post 8vo, cloth extra. Price 2s.\n\n_A beautiful new edition of Mrs. Prentiss\u2019s well-known and charming\nstories for children. It contains \u201cSix Birthdays,\u201d \u201cSix Teachers,\u201d and\n\u201cLittle Servants,\u201d in one volume._\n\n    =Not Thrown Away, but Given=; or, The Story of Marion\u2019s Hero.\n    By Mrs. G. S. REANEY, Author of \u201cDaisy Snowflake\u2019s Secret,\u201d\n    etc. Post 8vo, cloth extra. 2s.\n\n_A clever and instructive story of self-sacrifice, illustrated in a\nmother becoming a teetotaler in order to save her son, and a talented\nyoung man devoting his life to lay-mission work among the poor of a low\ndistrict in London._\n\n    =Willing to be Useful=; or, Principle and Duty Illustrated in\n    the Story of Edith Allison. Illustrated. Post 8vo, cloth extra.\n    2s.\n\n_This story contains the varied experiences of a young lady, who,\nanxious to be of use to others, interests herself in Sunday-school and\nother similar work. It is an incentive to persistent continuance in\nwell-doing._\n\n\nT. NELSON AND SONS, LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.","title":"A Wreath of Indian Stories","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":48367}