{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_77715/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_77715","id":"gutenberg_77715","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77715","summary":null,"tags":["Bible -- Juvenile fiction","Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Christian life -- Juvenile fiction","Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Faith -- Juvenile fiction","Glory of God -- Juvenile fiction","Jones, Mary, 1784-1864 -- Juvenile fiction","Literacy -- Juvenile fiction","Prayer -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n                           THE STORY\n\n                               OF\n\n                    Mary Jones and Her Bible.\n\n\n                   _BY MISS MARY EMILY ROPES._\n\n\n                          NEW EDITION.\n\n\n                         [Illustration]\n\n\n                   _CHRISTIAN WITNESS COMPANY_\n\n                151 WASHINGTON STREET, CHICAGO. ILL.\n\n\n\n                           COPYRIGHT, 1892\n                       AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY\n\n\n\n                          PREFATORY NOTE.\n\n   THE narrative which follows has been carefully founded upon facts\nobtained from the most trustworthy material\u2014written and verbal\u2014at the\ndisposal of the writer. Since its publication in 1882 the little book\nhas been extremely popular: versions in various languages have been\nissued, and an American edition has been prepared. It need only be\nadded that the text of this edition has been read by the accomplished\nauthoress, that some statistical information has been added, and that a\nconsiderable number of the illustrations are new.\n\n\n\n                          INTRODUCTION.\n\n                 BY REV. EDWARD W. GILMAN, D. D.,\n\n             SECRETARY OF THE AMERICAN BIBLE SOCIETY.\n\n                         [Illustration]\n\nNOT a long story this, but one full of pathos, of a little girl in\nNorth Wales, a hundred years ago, who hoarded her pennies for six long\nyears that she might save enough to buy a Bible, and who then walked\ntwenty-five miles, from Llanfihangel to Bala, in her bare feet, to\nprocure the treasure which she had so long desired to own. We mark the\nrecord of her desire and faith: \"Oh if I had but a Bible of my own!\"\n\"I must have a Bible of my own, if I save up for it for ten years.\"\n\"I shall never rest until I have a Bible of my own.\" \"Though I have\nwaited so long, the time will come when I shall have my Bible.\" \"Dear\nLord, let the time come quickly.\" The fulfilment of her cherished wish\nrounds out the record of a personal incident and leads us to share the\nmaiden's joy that at last she became the owner of a Bible in her own\ntongue.\n\nBut the pathos of the story is less important than its connection with\na great movement which has to do with the enlightenment and welfare of\nall nations in all coming time.\n\n\"Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth.\" It may be only a\nspark, but in one moment it becomes a blaze, and if rightly used, its\nradiance and warmth yield a perpetual blessing. Mary Jones could not\nprepare her weekly lesson for the Sunday school because in her father's\nhouse there was neither Bible nor Testament. Every Saturday she walked\nto a farm-house two miles away, because there only could she see a copy\nof the sacred volume. Her parents were poor weavers, but even if they\nhad been well-to-do, Bibles in Welsh were not only costly, but rare,\nand no one had yet conceived the idea of making the book so portable\nand so cheap that a copy of God's Word might be found in every dwelling.\n\nBut when the story of Mary Jones became known through the Rev.\nMr. Charles, of Bala, who supplied her need, when it suggested to\nGod-fearing men the possible condition of thousands of youth in other\ncottages in Wales, when it revealed to lovers of the Bible the intense\ndesire for the book felt by those who had never had it in their homes,\nChristian sympathy was bound to make some response. Something must\nbe done. What could be done? Might not some association be formed to\nprint and distribute the Scriptures in Wales? \"And if for Wales,\" said\nthe Rev. John Hughes, one of the Secretaries of the Religious Tract\nSociety, \"why not for the world?\"\n\nThe problem was solved; and so out of the needs and savings and prayers\nof Mary Jones came in 1804 the British and Foreign Bible Society, an\norganization catholic in its membership, based on reverence and love\nfor the Holy Scriptures, considerate of the wants of the humble and\nneedy, concentrating its efforts on one definite object, and with a\nwide and far-reaching enthusiasm for the human race extending its\nbeneficence to all nations, whether Christian, Mohammedan, or pagan. No\nwonder that the Committee of the Society cherish among their archives\nthe identical Bible which Mary Jones bought in 1800, with her autograph\nattesting the fact of its purchase when she was sixteen years old.\n\nThe key-note of this first movement to supply the world with the Holy\nScriptures was sympathy \"with the cry that was ascending all over Wales\nfor the Word of God;\" but mingled with this tender regard for those who\ncraved the book must have been pity for those who had never even heard\nof it, and a desire to share with them the blessings which the Bible\nbrings to mankind.\n\nA few years ago a little boy in Connecticut, seven years of age, was\nsick and nigh to death. He belonged to a \"Sunbeam Circle,\" and had\nhis \"mission box\" in which his little contributions were treasured up\nfor the foreign field. At his request his mother opened the box that\nhe might see how much there was for \"the poor heathen children,\" and\nnoticing a piece of newspaper among the pennies, she asked, \"Why,\nMiller, what is this? You don't want this in.\" \"Oh yes, I do, mamma.\nThey are beautiful verses about God, and I want the heathen to have\nthem too; I know they will like them.\" \"The Scriptures principally\nteach what man is to believe concerning God and what duty God requires\nof man;\" and why shouldn't the heathen have them too? If for Wales, why\nnot for the whole world? It is interesting to note that in after years\nMary Jones was a constant contributor to the British Bible Society,\npractising through life the self-denial she had learned in her youth,\nand that on one occasion when a collection was made at Bryncrug for the\n\"China Million Testament Fund,\" a gold piece neatly wrapped up between\nhalf-pence, and thus hidden until the money came to be counted, was\nher expression of sympathy for the poor heathen. Mary was fortunate in\nsecuring one copy of ten thousand which were printed in Oxford in 1799,\nfor they were all disposed of before one quarter of the country was\nsupplied. Since then the British Bible Society has printed more than\ntwo and a half millions of volumes of Scripture for Wales alone, and\nabout fifty times as many for the world besides.\n\nIf a union of Churchmen and Dissenters in one society was a good\nthing in England, why not in other parts of the world? The idea met\nwith favor in Europe and led to the formation of Bible Societies in\nGermany, Prussia, and France; but nowhere was it taken up with greater\npromptness and ardor than in America. British laws had denied to the\ncolonies the privilege of printing the Bible, so that when Mary Jones\nwas born, in 1784, one edition, and one only, of the authorized version\nhad ever been printed on this side of the Atlantic. When we consider\nthat the colonists were thus dependent on the king's printers for their\nsupplies, that the Revolutionary War had for a long time caused a\nsuspension of traffic, and that the country lacked facilities for the\nproduction of large editions of the Bible, we can readily believe that\nthe experience of Mary Jones was often repeated here, especially in the\nnew settlements which were being made in the interior.\n\nThe necessities of our land were as urgent as those of Wales, and\nfollowing the example of England, local Bible Societies in great\nnumbers began to be formed. Philadelphia took the lead in 1808, and was\nsoon followed by Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, and New Jersey.\nSocieties were organized as far south as Charleston, Beaufort, and\nSavannah. Such men as Jedediah Morse of Charleston and Elias Boudinot\nof New Jersey were earnest promoters of the movement. The interest of\nthese societies was enlisted in efforts to reach the inhabitants of\nthe great valley of the Mississippi. In 1812 Samuel J. Mills travelled\nfrom Boston to Pittsburgh, and from there to New Orleans, exploring\nthe country on both sides of the Ohio and the Mississippi and noting\nthe needs and opportunities of the field. Again he went over the same\nroute, distributing Bibles and tracts.\n\nA region so extended was too vast for the local societies, and to\npromote harmony, efficiency, and economy they united, in 1816, to form\nthe American Bible Society. It was patterned after that in London,\non the same broad, catholic principle, with the same avowed object,\nwith the same world-wide aim. Responsible for a territory vastly more\nextended than Great Britain, it pledged itself from the first to extend\nits influence as far as possible to other lands, Christian, Mohammedan,\nand pagan. Among its earliest publications were Scriptures for the\nIndians of North America and the Spaniards of South America and Mexico.\nIt has enrolled thousands of auxiliary societies, and with their aid\nhas carried through four general efforts to visit every family in the\nUnited States with the offer of the Holy Scriptures. As the nation\nhas acquired new territory in the South and West it has pushed on to\nprovide the Scriptures for the people of Texas and the great States\nof the interior and the Pacific. In nominally Christian lands it has\nbeen a pioneer of missions, preparing the way by the distribution of\nthe Scriptures for the founding of churches and the establishment of\nevangelical institutions. As American missionaries have made their way\nto pagan nations, reducing rude languages to writing and enriching them\nwith new versions of the Bible, it has stood by their side, giving\nliberally to make their work effective and circulate the printed book.\nIts Arabic Bible, in the sacred language of a hundred and twenty\nmillions of men, has found circulation in regions as remote as Western\nAfrica and the eastern shores of China. It has its agents resident\nin the Turkish Empire, in Persia, China, and Japan, in Mexico and\nCuba and the various republics of South America, and under their care\nmore than three hundred colporteurs devote their lives to the work of\ndistributing the printed Bible.\n\nConfidently relying on the providence of God, sustained by\ncontributions and legacies and prayers, aided by the willing\ncooperation of unpaid workers, joining hand in hand with other\nSocieties that look for the evangelization of the world, considerate\nalways for the oppressed and ignorant, the needy and the blind, the\nprisoner and the immigrant, the mariner and the soldier, the American\nBible Society seeks to hasten the time when the open Book shall be\nfound in every household in the land and in the world, and all men\nshall rejoice in the glad tidings which it brings. And its friends may\nwell join with their brethren in Great Britain in honoring the memory\nof the humble Welsh maiden whose quenchless love for God's Word was so\nhelpful at the outset of these heaven-blessed charities.\n\n\n\n                    PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL\n                            EDITION.\n\n   THIS little book tells how one of the least of seeds has grown to be\ngreatest of trees. It was the earnest desire of the late Mr. William\nColes, of Dorking, who was through life a warm and liberal friend of\nthe British and Foreign Bible Society, to learn all he could about its\nbirth. At his suggestion the trustees of the College at Bala generously\npresented Mary Jones's Bible to the Library of the Bible House in\nLondon, where it may now be seen. He was very anxious that the story\nshould be re-told in a way likely to interest the young; and though he\ndid not live to see this volume published, he did from his deathbed see\nand approve the draft submitted to him. A few days before his death he\nwrote as follows: \"The sketch came to me as a glorious finish to my\naspirations. I may never see the book, but from the bright Happy Land\u2014I\nshall be with Christ and know all.\"\n\n   It must not be forgotten that others besides Mr. Charles helped to\nfound the Bible Society. The Rev. Thomas Jones, curate of Creaton,\ndeserves specially to be mentioned. He was the \"clergyman in Wales\"\nwho is referred to in Owen's \"History of the Society\" (vol. i. p. 3),\nas having interested himself for more than twelve years in calling\nattention to the dearth of the Word of God in Wales. Let due honour be\ndone to him, and to others like him; but, above all, let Him be praised\nwho disposed His servants to establish an organization for distributing\nthe bread of life to the hungry multitudes of mankind.\n\n     THE BIBLE HOUSE,\n\n          _1st December,_ 1882.\n\n\n\n                            CONTENTS.\n\nCHAP.\n\n   I.\u2014AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN\n\n  II.\u2014THE ONE GREAT NEED\n\n III.\u2014COMING TO THE LIGHT\n\n  IV.\u2014TWO MILES TO A BIBLE\n\n   V.\u2014FAITHFUL IN THAT WHICH IS LEAST\n\n  VI.\u2014ON THE WAY\n\n VII.\u2014TEARS THAT PREVAIL\n\nVIII.\u2014THE WORK BEGUN\n\n  IX.\u2014YOUTHFUL PROMISE FULFILLED\n\n   X.\u2014HER WORKS DO FOLLOW HER\n\n\n\n                    THE STORY OF MARY JONES\n\n                         AND HER BIBLE.\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF CADER IDRIS.]\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nAT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN.\n\n   O Shepherd of all the flock of God,\n   Watch over Thy lambs and feed them;\n   For Thou alone, through the rugged paths,\n   In the way of life canst lead them.\n\nIT would be hard to find a lovelier, more picturesque spot than the\nvalley on the south-west side of Cader Idris, where nestles the little\nvillage of Llanfihangel-y-Pennant. Above it towers the majestic\nmountain with its dark crags, its rocky precipices, and its steep\nascents; while stretching away in the distance to the westward, lie\nthe bold shore and glistening waters of Cardigan Bay, where the white\nbreakers come rolling in and dash into foam, only to gather afresh, and\nreturn undaunted to the charge.\n\nThe mountain, and the outline of the bay, and the wonderful\npicturesqueness of the valley, are still much as they were a hundred\nyears ago. Still the eye of the traveller gazes in wonder at their wild\nbeauty, as other eyes of other travellers did in times gone by. But\nwhile Nature's great landmarks remain, or undergo a change so gradual\nas to be almost imperceptible, man, the tenant of God's earth, is born,\nlives his brief life, and passes away, leaving only too often hardly\neven a memory behind him.\n\nAnd now as, in thought, we stand upon the lower slopes of Cader Idris,\nand look across the little village of Llanfihangel, we find ourselves\nwondering what kind of people have occupied those rude grey cottages\nfor the last century; what were their simple histories, what their\nhabits, their toils and struggles, sorrows and pleasures.\n\nTo those then who share our interest in the place and neighbourhood,\nand in events connected with them, we would tell the simple tale which\ngives Llanfihangel a place among the justly celebrated and honoured\nspots of our beloved country; since from its soil sprang a shoot which,\ngrowing apace, soon spread forth great branches throughout the earth,\nbecoming indeed a tree of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the\nnations.\n\nIn the year 1792, nearly a hundred years ago, the night shadows had\nfallen around the little village of Llanfihangel. The season was late\nautumn, and a cold wind was moaning and sighing among the trees,\nstripping them of their changed garments, lately so green and gay,\nwhirling them round in eddies and laying them in shivering heaps along\nthe narrow valley.\n\nWan and watery, the moon, encompassed by peaked masses of cloud that\nlooked like another ghostly Cader Idris in the sky, had risen, and now\ncast a faint light across a line of jutting crags, bringing into relief\ntheir sharp ragged edges against the dark background of rolling vapour.\n\nIn pleasant contrast to the night with its threatening gloom, a warm\nlight shone through the windows of one of the cottages that formed the\nvillage. The light was caused by the blaze of a fire of dried driftwood\non the stone hearth, while in a rude wooden stand a rushlight burned,\nthrowing its somewhat uncertain brightness upon a loom where sat a\nweaver at work. A bench, two or three stools, a rude cupboard, and a\nkitchen-table\u2014these, with the loom, were all the furniture.\n\n[Illustration: A WELSH COTTAGE.]\n\nStanding in the centre of the room was a middle-aged woman, dressed in\na cloak and the tall conical Welsh hat worn by many of the peasants to\nthis day.\n\n\"I am sorry you cannot go, Jacob,\" said she. \"You'll be missed at the\nmeeting. But the same Lord Almighty who gives us the meetings for the\ngood of our souls, sent you that wheezing of the chest, for the trying\nof your body and spirit, and we must needs have patience till He sees\nfit to take it away again.\"\n\n\"Yes, wife, and I'm thankful that I needn't sit idle, but can still ply\nmy trade,\" replied Jacob Jones. \"There's many a deal worse off. But\nwhat are you waiting for, Molly? You'll be late for the exercises; it\nmust be gone six o'clock.\"\n\n\"I'm waiting for that child, and she's gone for the lantern,\" responded\nMary Jones, whom her husband generally called Molly, to distinguish her\nfrom their daughter who was also Mary.\n\nJacob smiled. \"The lantern! Yes,\" said he; \"you'll need it this dark\nnight. 'Twas a good thought of yours, wife, to let Mary take it regular\nas you do, for the child wouldn't be allowed to attend those meetings\notherwise. And she does seem so eager after everything of the kind.\"\n\n\"Yes, she knows already pretty nearly all that you and I can teach her\nof the Bible, as we learnt it, don't she, Jacob? She's only eight now,\nbut I remember when she was but a wee child she would sit on your knee\nfor hours on a Sunday, and hear tell of Abraham and Joseph, and David\nand Daniel. There never was a girl like our Mary for Bible stories, or\nany stories, for the matter of that, bless her! But here she is! You've\nbeen a long time getting that lantern, child, and we must hurry or we\nshall be late.\"\n\nLittle Mary raised a pair of bright dark eyes to her mother's face.\n\n\"Yes, mother,\" she replied, \"I was long because I ran to borrow\nneighbour Williams's lantern. The latch of ours won't hold, and there's\nsuch a wind to-night, that I knew we should have the light blown out.\"\n\n\"There's a moon,\" said Mrs. Jones, \"and I could have done without a\nlantern.\"\n\n\"Yes, but then you know, mother, I should have had to stay at home,\"\nresponded Mary, \"and I do so love to go.\"\n\n\"You needn't tell me that, child,\" laughed Molly. \"Then come along,\nMary; good-bye, Jacob.\"\n\n\"Good-bye, father dear! I wish you could come too!\" cried Mary, running\nback to give Jacob a last kiss.\n\n\"Go your way, child, and mind you remember all you can to tell old\nfather when you come home.\"\n\nThen the cottage door opened, and Mary and her mother sallied out into\nthe cold windy night.\n\nThe moon had disappeared now behind a thick dark cloud, and little\nMary's borrowed lantern was very acceptable. Carefully she held it,\nso that the light fell upon the way they had to traverse, a way which\nwould have been difficult if not dangerous, without its friendly aid.\n\n\"'Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path,'\" said\nMrs. Jones, as she took her little daughter's hand in hers.\n\n\"Yes, mother, I was just thinking of that,\" replied the child. \"I wish\nI knew ever so many verses like this one.\"\n\n\"How glad I should be if your father and I could teach you more; but\nit's years since we learned, and we've got no Bible, and our memories\nare not as good as they used to be,\" sighed the mother.\n\nA walk of some length, and over a rough road, brought them at last to\nthe little meeting-house where the church members belonging to the\nMethodist body were in the habit of attending.\n\nThey were rather late, and the exercises had begun, but kind farmer\nEvans made room for them on his bench, and found for Mrs. Jones the\nplace in the psalm-book from which the little company had been singing.\nMary was the only child there, but her face was so grave, and her\nmanner so solemn and reverent, that no one looking at her could have\nfelt that she was out of place; and the church members who met there\nfrom time to time, had come to look upon this little girl as one of\ntheir number, and welcomed her accordingly.\n\nWhen the meeting was over, and Mary, having relighted her lantern, was\nready to accompany her mother home, farmer Evans put his great broad\nhand upon the child's shoulder, saying:\n\n\"Well, my little maid! You're rather young for these meetings, but the\nLord has need of lambs as well as sheep, and He is well pleased when\nthe lambs learn to hear His voice early, even in their tender years.\"\n\nThen with a gentle fatherly caress the good old man released the child,\nand turned away, carrying with him the remembrance of that earnest\nintelligent face, happy in its intentness, joyful in its solemnity,\nhaving in its expression a promise of future excellence and power for\ngood.\n\n\"Why haven't we a Bible of our own, mother?\" asked Mary as she trotted\nhomeward, lantern in hand.\n\n\"Because Bibles are scarce, child, and we're too poor to pay the price\nof one. A weaver's is an honest trade, Mary, but we don't get rich\nby it, and we think ourselves happy if we can keep the wolf from the\ndoor, and have clothes to cover us. Still, precious as the Word of God\nwould be in our hands, more precious are its teachings and its truths\nin our hearts. I tell you, my little girl, they who have learned the\nlove of God, have learned the greatest truth that even the Bible can\nteach them; and those who are trusting the Saviour for their pardon and\npeace, and for eternal life at last, can wait patiently for a fuller\nknowledge of His word and will.\"\n\n\"I suppose you can wait, mother, because you've waited so long that\nyou're used to it,\" replied the child; \"but it's harder for me. Every\ntime I hear something read out of the Bible, I long to hear more, and\nwhen I can read it will be harder still.\"\n\nMrs. Jones was about to answer, when she stumbled over a stone, and\nfell, though fortunately without hurting herself. Mary's thoughts were\nso full of what she had been saying, that she had become careless in\nthe management of the lantern, and her mother not seeing the stone, had\nstruck her foot against it.\n\n\"Ah, child! It's the present duties after all that we must look after\nmost,\" said Molly, as she got slowly up; \"and even a fall may teach us\na lesson, Mary. The very Word of God itself, which is a lamp to our\nfeet, and a light to our path, can't save us from many a tumble if we\ndon't use it aright, and let the light shine on our daily life, helping\nus in its smallest duties and cares. Remember this, my little Mary.\"\n\nAnd little Mary did remember this, and her after life proved that she\nhad taken the lesson to heart\u2014a simple lesson, taught by a simple,\nunlearned handmaid of the Lord, but a lesson which the child treasured\nup in her very heart of hearts.\n\n[Illustration: Chained Bibles.]\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE ONE GREAT NEED.\n\n   For this I know, whate'er of earthly good\n   Fall to the portion of immortal man,\n   Still unfulfill'd in him is God's great plan.\n   And Heaven's richest gift misunderstood,\n   Until the Word of Life\u2014exhaustless store\n   Of light and truth\u2014be his for evermore.\n\n[Illustration] IN the homes of the poor, where the time of the elder\nmembers of the family is precious, they being the bread-winners of the\nhousehold, the little ones learn to be useful very early. How often we\nhave known girls of six to take the entire charge of a younger brother\nand sister, while many children of that age run errands, do simple\nshopping, and make themselves of very real and substantial use.\n\nSuch was the case in the family of Jacob Jones. Jacob and Molly were\nengaged in weaving the woollen cloth, so much of which used to be\nmade in Wales. Thus many of the household duties devolved upon Mary;\nand at an age when children of richer parents are amusing themselves\nwith their dolls or picture-books, our little maid was sweeping, and\ndusting, and scrubbing, and digging and weeding.\n\nIt was Mary who fed the few hens, and looked for their eggs, so often\nlaid in queer, wrong places, rather than in the nest.\n\nIt was Mary who took care of the hive, and who never feared the\nbees; and it was Mary again, who, when more active duties were done,\nwould draw a low stool towards the hearth in winter or outside the\ncottage door in summer, and try to make or mend her own little simple\ngarments, singing to herself the while in Welsh, a verse or two of the\nold-fashioned metrical version of the Psalms, or repeating texts which\nshe had picked up and retained in her quick, eager little brain.\n\nIn the long, light summer evenings, it was her delight to sit where\nshe could see the majestic form of Cader Idris with its varying lights\nand shadows, as the sun sank lower and lower in the horizon. And in\nher childish imagination, this mountain was made to play many a part,\nas she recalled the stories which her parents had told her, and the\nchapters she had heard read at chapel.\n\nNow, Cader Idris was the mountain in the land of Moriah whither the\npatriarch was sent on his painful mission; and Mary would fix her great\ndark eyes upon the rocky steeps before her, until she fancied she could\nsee the venerable Abraham and his son toiling up towards the appointed\nplace of sacrifice, the lad bearing the wood for the burnt-offering.\n\nMore and more vividly the whole scene would grow upon the child's\nfancy, until the picture seemed to be almost a reality, and she could\nimagine that she heard the patriarch's voice borne faintly to her ear\nby the breeze that fanned her cheek\u2014a voice that replied pathetically\nto his son's question, in the words, \"My son, the Lord will provide\nHimself a lamb for the burnt-offering.\"\n\nThen the scene would change; night was drawing near, and Cader Idris\nassuming softer outlines, was the mountain where the Saviour went to\npray.\n\nLeaving the thronging multitude who had been dwelling upon His every\nword\u2014leaving even His disciples whom He so loved, there was Jesus\u2014alone\nsave for the Eternal Father's presence\u2014praying, and refreshing thus His\nweary spirit, after the work and trials and sorrows of the day.\n\n\"If I'd only lived in those days,\" sighed little Mary, sometimes, \"how\nI should have loved Him! And He'd have taught me, perhaps, as He did\nthose two who walked such a long way with Him, without knowing that it\nwas Jesus; only I think 'I' should have known Him, just through love.\"\n\nNor was it only the mountain with which Mary associated scenes from\nsacred history or Gospel narration. The long, narrow valley in the\nupper end of which Llanfihangel was situated, ran down to the sea at no\ngreat distance by a place called Towyn. And when the child happened to\nbe near, she would steal a few moments to sit down on the shore, and\ngaze across the blue-green waters of Cardigan Bay, and dream of the Sea\nof Galilee, and of the Saviour who walked upon its waters\u2014who stilled\ntheir raging with a word, and who even sometimes chose to make His\npulpit of a boat, and preach thus to the congregation that stood upon\nthe shore and clustered to the very edge of the water, so that they\nmight not lose a word of the precious things that He spoke. It will be\nseen, therefore, that upon Mary's mind a deep and lasting impression\nwas made by all that she had heard; and child though she might be in\nyears, there were not wanting in her evidences of an earnest, energetic\nnature, an intelligent brain, and a warm, loving heart.\n\nIt is by the first leaves put forth by the seedling that we discern\nthe nature, and know the name of the plant; and so in childhood, the\ncharacter and talents can often be detected in the early beauty of\ntheir first unfolding and development.\n\nOne afternoon, when Jacob and his wife were seated at their looms, and\nMary was sewing a patch into an almost worn-out garment of her own, a\nlittle tap at the dour was followed by the entrance of Mrs. Evans, the\ngood farmer's wife, a kind, motherly, and in some respects superior\nwoman, who was looked up to and beloved by many of the Llanfihangel\nvillagers.\n\n\"Good day to you, neighbours!\" she said, cheerily, her comely face all\naglow. \"Jacob, how is your chest feeling? Bad, I'm afraid, as I haven't\nseen you out of late. Molly, you're looking hearty as usual, and my\nlittle Mary, too\u2014Toddles, as I used to call you when you were not much\nmore than a baby, and running round on your sturdy pins as fast as many\na bigger child. Don't I remember you then! A mere baby as I said, and\nyet you'd keep a deal stiller than any mouse if your father there would\nmake up a story you could understand, more particular if it was out\nof the Bible. Daniel and the Lions, or David and the Giant, or Peter\nin the Prison\u2014these were the favourites then. Yes, and the history of\nJoseph and his brethren, only you used to cry when the naughty brothers\nput Joseph in the pit, and went home and told Jacob that wicked lie\nthat almost broke the old man's heart.\"\n\n\"She's as fond of anything of that sort now as she was then,\" said\nJacob Jones, pausing in his work; \"or rather she's fonder than ever,\nma'am. I only wish we were able to give her a bit of schooling. It\nseems hard, for the child is willing enough, and it's high time she\nwas learning something. Why, Mrs. Evans, she can't read yet, and she's\neight years old!\"\n\nMary looked up, her face flushing, her eyes filled with tears.\n\n\"Oh! If I only could learn!\" she cried, eagerly. \"I'm such a big girl,\nand it's so dreadful not to know how to read. If I could, I would read\nall the lovely stories myself, and not trouble any one to tell them.\"\n\n\"You forget, Mary, we've no Bible,\" said Molly Jones, \"and we can't\nafford to buy one either, so dear and scarce they are.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Mrs. Evans, \"it's a great want in our country; my\nhusband was telling me only the other day that the scarcity of Welsh\nBibles is getting to be spoken of everywhere. Even those who can afford\nto pay for them get them with difficulty, and only by bespeaking them;\nand poor people can't get them at all. But we hope the Society for\nChristian Knowledge in London may print some more soon; it won't be\nbefore they're wanted.\n\n\"But with all this talk, Mrs. Jones,\" continued the farmer's wife, \"I\nam forgetting my errand in coming here, and that was to ask if you'd\nany new-laid eggs. I've a large order sent me, and our hens are laying\nbadly, so that I can't make up the number. I've been collecting a few\nhere and there, but I haven't enough yet.\"\n\n\"Mary knows more about the hens and eggs than I do,\" said Molly,\nlooking at her little daughter, who had not put a stitch into her patch\nwhile the talk about Bibles had been going on, and whose cheeks and\neyes showed in their deepened colour and light how much interested she\nhad been in what had been said.\n\nBut now the child started half guiltily from her low seat, saying,\n\"I'll get what we have to show you, Mrs. Evans.\"\n\nPresently she came in with a little basket containing about a dozen\neggs. The farmer's wife put them into her bag, then patting Mary's pink\ncheeks rose to take her leave, after paying for the eggs.\n\n\"And remember this, little maid,\" she said kindly, when after saying\ngood-bye to Jacob and Molly, she was taking leave of Mary at the door.\n\"Remember this, my dear little girl; as soon as you know how to read\n(if by that time you still have no Bible) you shall come to the farm\nwhen you like, and read and study ours\u2014that is, if you can manage to\nget so far.\"\n\n\"It's only two miles, that's nothing!\" said sturdy Mary, with a glance\ndown at her strong little bare feet. \"I'd walk further than that for\nsuch a pleasure, ma'am.\" Then she added with a less joyful ring in her\nvoice, \"At least I would, if ever I 'did' learn to read.\"\n\n\"Never mind, little woman! The likes of you wasn't made to sit in the\ndark always,\" replied Mrs. Evans in her cheery, comfortable tones.\n\"The Lord made the want, and He'll satisfy it; be very sure of that.\nRemember, Mary, when the multitude that waited on the Saviour were\nhungry, the Lord did not send them away empty, though no one saw how\nthey were to be fed; and He'll take care you get the bread of life\ntoo, for all it seems so unlikely now. Good-bye, and God bless you, my\nchild!\" And good Mrs. Evans, with a parting nod to the weaver and his\nwife, and another to Mary, went out, and got into her little pony-cart,\nwhich was waiting for her in the road, under the care of one of the\nfarm-boys.\n\nMary stood at the door and watched their visitor till she was out of\nsight. Then, before she closed it, she clasped her small brown hands\nagainst her breast, and her thoughts formed themselves into a prayer\nsomething like this:\n\n   \"Dear Lord, who gavest bread to the hungry folk in the old time, and\ndidst teach and bless even the poorest, please let me learn, and not\ngrow up in darkness.\"\n\nThen she shut the door and came and sat down, resolving in her childish\nheart that if God heard and answered her prayer, and she learned to\nread His Word, she would do what she could, all her life long, to help\nothers as she herself had been helped.\n\nHow our little Mary kept her resolution will be seen in the remaining\nchapters of this simple narrative.\n\n[Illustration: _Tail-piece from Coverdale's New Test., 1538,_\n_in the Library of the Bible Society._]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: LLAN-Y-CIL BAY, BALA LAKE.]\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nCOMING TO THE LIGHT.\n\n   O thou who out of the darkness\n     Reachest thy trembling hand,\n   Whose ears are open to welcome\n     Glad news of a better land;\n   Not always shalt thou be groping,\n     Night's shadows are well-nigh past:\n   The heart that for light is yearning\n     Attains to that light at last.\n\nTWO years had passed away since Mrs. Evans's visit, as recorded in the\npreceding chapter, and still little Mary's prayer seemed as far as ever\nfrom being answered.\n\nWith the industry and patience of more mature years the child went\nabout her daily duties, and her mother depended upon her for many\nthings which do not generally form part of a child's occupations. Mary\nhad less time for dreaming now, and though Cader Idris was still the\nspot with which her imagination associated Bible scenes and pictures,\nshe had little leisure for anything but her everyday duties. She still\naccompanied her mother to the meetings, and from so continually coming\ninto contact with older people, rather than with children of her own\nage, the child had grown more and more grave and earnest in face and\nmanner, and would have been called an old-fashioned girl if she had\nlived in a place where any difference was known between old fashions\nand new.\n\nIt was about this time that Jacob Jones came home one evening from\nAbergynolwyn\u2014a village two miles away from Llanfihangel\u2014where he had\nbeen disposing of the woollen cloth which he and Molly had been making\nduring the past months.\n\nJacob had been away the greater part of the day, yet he did not seem\ntired. His eye was bright, and his lips wore a smile as he entered the\ncottage and sat down in his accustomed place in the chimney corner.\n\nMary, whose observant eye rarely failed to note the least change in her\nfather's face and manner, sprang towards him, and stood before him,\nregarding his bright face searchingly.\n\n\"What is it, father?\" she said, her own dark eyes flashing back the\nlight in his. \"Something pleasant has happened, or you wouldn't look\nlike that!\"\n\n\"What a sharp little girl it is!\" replied Jacob, fondly, drawing the\nchild nearer and seating her upon his knee. \"What a very sharp little\nwoman to find out that her old dad has something to tell!\"\n\n\"And is it something that concerns me, father?\" asked Mary, stroking\nJacob's face caressingly.\n\n\"It 'is' something that concerns you most of all, my chick, and us\nthrough you.\"\n\n\"What can it be?\" murmured Mary, with a quick, impatient little sigh.\n\n\"What is it, father?\" asked Mrs. Jones. \"We both want to know.\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied Jacob, \"what would you say, Molly dear, to our little\ndaughter here becoming quite a learned woman, perhaps knowing how to\nread, and write, and cipher, and all a deal better than her parents\never did before her?\"\n\n\"Oh, father!\"\n\nThe exclamation came from Mary, who in her excitement had slipped from\nJacob's knee, and now stood facing him, breathless with suspense, her\nhands closely clasped.\n\nJacob looked at her a moment without speaking; then he said tenderly:\n\n\"Yes, child, there 'is' a school to be opened at Abergynolwyn, and a\nmaster is chosen already; and as my little Mary thinks nought of a two\nmiles' walk, she shall go, and learn all she can.\"\n\n\"Oh, father!\"\n\n\"Well,\" rejoined Jacob, now laughing outright, \"how many 'Oh fathers!'\nare we going to have? But I thought you'd be glad, my girl, and I was\nnot wrong. You are pleased, dear, aren't you?\"\n\nThere was a pause; then Mary's reply came, low spoken, but with such\ndeep content in its tones.\n\n\"Pleased, father? Yes, indeed, for now I shall learn to read the Bible.\"\n\nThen a thought struck her, and a shadow came across the happy face as\nshe said:\n\n\"But, mother, perhaps you won't be able to spare me?\"\n\n\"Spare you? Yes, I will, child, though I can't deny as how it will be\ndifficult for me to do without my little right hand and help. But for\nyour good, my girl, I would do harder things than that.\"\n\n\"Dear, good mother!\" cried Mary, putting an arm about Molly's neck and\nkissing her. \"But I don't want you to work too hard and tire yourself.\nI'll get up an hour or two earlier, and do all I can before I start\nfor school.\" Then as the child sat down again to her work, her heart,\nin its joyfulness, sent up a song of thanksgiving to the Lord who had\nheard her prayer, and opened the way for her to learn, that she might\nnot grow up in darkness.\n\nPresently Jacob went on:\n\n\"I went to see the room where the school is to be held, and who should\ncome in while I was there but Mr. Charles of Bala. I'd often heard of\nhim before, but I'd never seen him, and I was glad to set eyes on him\nfor once.\"\n\n\"What may he have looked like, Jacob?\" asked Molly.\n\n\"Well, Molly, I never was a very good one for drawing a portrait, but\nI should say he was between forty and fifty years old, with a fine big\nforehead which doesn't look as though it had unfurnished apartments to\nlet behind it, but quite the opposite, as though he had done a sight\nof thinking, and meant to do a great deal more. Still his face isn't\nanything so 'very' special till he smiles, but when he does it's like\nsunshine, and goes to your heart, and warms you right through. Now I've\nseen him, and heard him speak, I can understand how he does so much\ngood. I hear he's going about from place to place opening schools for\nthe poor children, who would grow up ignorant otherwise.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE REV. THOMAS CHARLES, OF BALA.\n (_From the painting in the Bible House._)]\n\n\"Like me,\" murmured Mary, under her breath.\n\n\"And who's the master that's to be set over the school at\nAbergynolwyn?\" asked Molly.\n\n\"I heard tell that his name is John Ellis,\" replied Jacob; \"a good man,\nand right for the work, so they say; and I hope it'll prove so.\"\n\n\"And how soon is the school to open, Jacob?\" asked his wife.\n\n\"In about three weeks, I believe,\" answered Jacob. \"And now, Mary my\ngirl, if you can bring yourself to think of such a thing as supper,\nafter what I've been telling you, suppose you get some ready, for I\nhaven't broke my fast since noon.\"\n\nThe following three weeks passed more slowly for little Mary Jones\nthan any three months she could remember before. Such childishness\nas there was in her seemed to show itself in impatience; and we must\nconfess that her home duties at this time were not so cheerfully or\nso punctually performed as usual, owing to the fact that her thoughts\nwere far away, her heart being set on the thing she had longed for so\nearnestly.\n\n\"If 'this' is the way it's going to be, Jacob,\" said Molly to her\nhusband one evening, \"I shall wish there had never been a thought of\nschool at Abergynolwyn. The child's so off her head that she goes about\nlike one in a dream; what it'll be when that school begins, I daren't\nthink.\"\n\n\"Don't you fret, wife,\" replied Jacob smiling. \"It'll all come right.\nDon't you see that her poor little busy brain has been longing to grow,\nand now that there's a chance of its being fed, she's all agog. But\nyou'll find, when she once gets started, she'll go on all right with\nher home work as well. She's but ten years old, Molly, after all, and\nfor my own part, I'm not sorry to see there's a bit of the child left\nin her, even if it shows itself this way, such a little old woman as\nshe's always been!\"\n\nBut this longest three weeks that Mary ever spent came to an end at\nlast, and Mary began to go to school, thus commencing a new era in her\nlife.\n\nFairly hungering and thirsting after knowledge, the child found her\nlessons an unmixed delight. What other children call drudgery was to\nher only pleasure, and her eagerness was so great that she was almost\nalways at the top of her class; and in an incredibly short space of\ntime she began to read and write.\n\nThe master, who had a quick eye for observing the character and talents\nof his pupils, soon remarked Mary's peculiarities, and encouraged her\nin her pursuit of such knowledge as was taught in the school; and\nthe little girl repaid her master's kindness by the most unwearied\ndiligence and attention.\n\nNor while the brain was being fed did the heart grow cold, or the\npractical powers decline. Molly Jones had now no fault to find with\nMary's performance of her home duties. The child rose early, and did\nher work before breakfast; and after her return from school in the\nafternoon she again helped her mother, only reserving for herself time\nenough to prepare her lessons for the next day.\n\nAt school she was a general favourite, and never seemed to be regarded\nwith jealousy by her companions, this being due probably to her genial\ndisposition, and the kind way in which she was willing to help others\nwhenever she could.\n\nOne morning a little girl was seen to be crying sadly when she reached\nthe schoolhouse, and on being questioned as to what was the matter, she\nsaid that on the way there, a big dog had snatched at the little paper\nbag in which she was bringing her dinner to eat during recess, and had\ncarried it off, and so she should have to go hungry all day.\n\nSome of the scholars laughed at the child for her carelessness, and\nsome called her a coward, for not running after the dog and getting\nback her dinner; but Mary stole up to the little one's side, and\nwhispered something in her ear, and dried the wet eyes, and kissed the\nflushed cheeks, and presently the child was smiling and happy again.\n\nBut when dinner-time came, Mary and the little dinnerless maiden sat\nclose together in a corner, and more than half of Mary's provisions\nfound their way to the smaller child's mouth.\n\nThe other scholars looked on, feeling somewhat ashamed, no doubt, that\nnone but Mary Jones had thought of doing so kind and neighbourly an\naction, at the cost of a little self-denial. But the lesson was not\nlost upon them, and from that day Mary's influence made itself felt in\nthe school for good.\n\nIn her studies she progressed steadily, and this again gave opportunity\nfor the development of the helpful qualities by which, from her\nearliest childhood, she had been distinguished.\n\nOn one occasion, for instance, she was just getting ready to set off\non her two miles journey home, when she spied in a corner of the now\ndeserted schoolroom a little boy with a book open before him, and a\nsmeared slate and blunt pencil by its side. The poor little fellow's\ntears were falling over his unfinished task, and evidently he was in\nthe last stage of childish despondency. He had dawdled away his time\nduring the school hours, or had not listened when the lesson had been\nexplained, and now school discipline required that he should stay\nbehind when the rest had gone, and attend to the work which he had\nneglected.\n\nMary had a headache that day, and was longing to get home; but the\nsight of that tearful, sad little face in the corner banished all\nthought of self, and as the voices of the other children died away in\nthe distance, she crossed the room, and leaned over the small student's\nshoulder.\n\n\"What is it, Robbie dear?\" said she in her old-fashioned way and\ntender, low-toned voice. \"Oh, I see, you've got to do that sum! I\nmayn't do it for you, you know, because that would be a sort of\ncheating, but I can tell you how to do it yourself, and I think I can\nmake it plain.\"\n\nSo saying, Mary fetched her little bit of wet rag, and washed the\nslate, and then got an old knife and sharpened the pencil.\n\n\"Now,\" said she, smiling cheerily, \"see, I'll put down the sum as it is\nin the book.\" And she wrote on the slate in clear, if not very elegant\nfigures, the sum in question.\n\nThus encouraged, Robbie gave his mind to his task, and with a little\nhelp it was soon done, and Mary with a light heart, which made up for\nher heavy head, trotted home, very glad that what she was herself\nlearning could be a benefit to others.\n\nNot long after the commencement of the day school, a Sunday school\nalso was opened, and the very first Sunday that children were taught\nthere, behold our little friend as clean and fresh as soap and water\ncould make her, and with bright eyes and eager face, showing the keen\ninterest she felt, and her great desire to learn.\n\nThat evening, after service in the little meeting-house, as the\nfarmer's wife, good Mrs. Evans, was just going to get into her\npony-cart to drive home, she felt a light touch on her arm, while a\nsweet voice she knew said, \"Please, ma'am, might I speak to you a\nmoment?\"\n\n\"Surely, my child,\" replied the good woman, turning her beaming face on\nlittle Mary, \"what have you got to say to me?\"\n\n\"Two years ago, please ma'am, you were so kind as to promise that when\nI'd learned to read I should come to the farm and read your Bible.\"\n\n\"I did, I remember it well,\" answered Mrs. Evans. \"Well, child, do you\nknow how to read?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" responded Mary; \"and now I've joined the Sunday school,\nand shall have Bible lessons to prepare, and if you'd be so kind as to\nlet me come up to the farm one day in the week\u2014perhaps Saturday, when\nI've a half-holiday\u2014I could never thank you enough.\"\n\n\"There's no need for thanks, little woman, come and welcome! I shall\nexpect you next Saturday; and may the Lord make His Word a great\nblessing to you!\"\n\nMrs. Evans held Mary's hand one moment with a cordial pressure; then\nshe got into her cart, and the pony started off quickly towards home,\nas though he knew that old Farmer Evans was laid up with rheumatism,\nand that his wife wished to get back to him as soon as possible.\n\n[Illustration: A Bit of Bala Lake.]\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTWO MILES TO A BIBLE.\n\n   'Tis written, man shall not live alone,\n      By the perishing bread of earth;\n   Thou givest the soul a richer food\n      To nourish the heavenly birth.\n   And yet to our fields of golden grain\n      Thou bringest the harvest morn;\n   Thine op'ning hand is the life of all,\n      For Thou preparest them corn.\n\n[Illustration] MR. EVANS'S farm was a curious old-fashioned place. The\nhouse was a large, rambling building, with many queer ups and downs,\nand with oddly-shaped windows in all sorts of unexpected places. And\nyet there was an aspect of homely comfort about the house not always to\nbe found in far finer and more imposing-looking residences. At the back\nwere the out-buildings\u2014the sheds and cow-houses, the poultry-pen, the\nstables and pig-sties; while stretching away beyond these again were\nthe home paddock, the drying-ground, and a small enclosed field, which\nwent by the name of Hospital Meadow, on account of its being used for\ndisabled animals that needed a rest.\n\nWith the farmer himself we made acquaintance two years ago at the\nmeeting, when he spoke so kindly to Mary; and he was still the same\ngood, honest, industrious, God-fearing man, never forgetting in the\nclaims and anxieties of his work, what he owed to the Giver of all,\nwho sends His rain for the watering of the seed, and His sun for the\nripening of the harvest.\n\nNor did he\u2014as too many farmers are in the habit of doing\u2014repine at\nProvidence, and find fault with God's dealings if the rain came down\nupon the hay before it was safely carried, or if an early autumn gale\nlaid his wheat even with the earth from which it sprang, ere the sickle\ncould be put into it. Nor did he complain and grumble even when disease\nshowed itself among the breed of small but active cattle of which he\nwas justly proud, and carried off besides some of his fine sheep,\ndestined for the famous Welsh mutton which sometimes is to be found on\nEnglish tables.\n\nIn short, he was contented with what the Lord sent, and said with Job,\nwhen a misfortune occurred, \"Shall we receive good at the hands of the\nLord, and shall we not receive evil?\"\n\nOf Mrs. Evans we have already spoken, and if we add here that she was a\ntrue helpmeet to her husband, in matters both temporal and spiritual,\nthat is all we need say in her praise.\n\nThis worthy couple had three children. The eldest was already grown\nup; she was a fine girl, and a great comfort and help to her mother.\nThe younger children were boys, who went to a grammar school in a town\na mile or two away: they were manly, high-spirited little fellows,\nwell-trained, and as honest and true as their parents.\n\nSuch, then, was the family into which our little Mary was welcomed with\nall love and kindness. She was shy and timid the first time, for the\nfarm-house was a much finer place than any home she had hitherto seen;\nand there was an atmosphere of warmth, and there were delicious signs\nof plenty, which were unknown in Jacob Jones's poor little cottage,\nwhere everything was upon the most frugal, not to say meagre, scale.\n\nBut Mary's shyness did not last long; indeed it disappeared wholly soon\nafter she had crossed the threshold, where she was met by Mrs. Evans\nwith a hearty welcome and a motherly kiss.\n\n\"Come in, little one,\" said the good woman, drawing her into the cosy,\nold-fashioned kitchen, where a kettle was singing on the hob, and an\nenticing fragrance of currant shortcake, baking for an early tea,\nscented the air.\n\n\"There, get warm, dear,\" said Mrs. Evans, \"and then you shall go to the\nparlour, and study the Bible. And have you got a pencil and scrap of\npaper to take notes if you want them?\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you, ma'am, I brought them with me,\" replied Mary.\n\nFor a few minutes she sat there, basking in the pleasant, cheery glow\nof the fire-light; then she was admitted to the parlour, where, on the\ntable in the centre of the room, and covered reverently with a clean\nwhite cloth, was the precious book.\n\nIt must not be thought from the care thus taken of it that the Bible\nwas never used. On the contrary, it was always read at prayers night\nand morning; and the farmer, whenever he had a spare half-hour, liked\nnothing better than to study the sacred book, and seek to understand\nits teachings.\n\n\"There's no need to tell you to be careful of our Bible, and to turn\nover the leaves gently, Mary, I'm sure,\" said Mrs. Evans; \"you would do\nthat anyway, I know. And now, my child, I'll leave you and the Bible\ntogether. When you've learned your lesson for Sunday school, and read\nall you want, come back into the kitchen and have some tea before you\ngo.\"\n\nThen the good farmer's wife went away, leaving Mary alone with a Bible\nfor the first time in her life.\n\nPresently the child raised the napkin, and, folding it neatly, laid it\non one side.\n\nThen, with trembling hands, she opened the book, opened it at the\nfifth chapter of John, and her eyes caught these words, \"Search the\nscriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are\nthey which testify of Me.\"\n\n\"I will! I will!\" she cried, feeling as if the words were spoken\ndirectly to her by some Divine voice. \"I will search and learn all I\ncan. Oh, if I had but a Bible of my own!\" And this wish, this sigh for\nthe rare and coveted treasure, was the key-note to a grand chorus of\nglorious harmony which, years after, spread in volume, until it rolled\nin waves of sound over the whole earth. Yes, that yearning in a poor\nchild's heart was destined to be a means of light and knowledge to\nmillions of souls in the future. Thus verily has God often chosen the\nweak things of the world to carry out His great designs, and work His\nwill. And here, once more, is an instance of the small beginnings which\nhave great results\u2014results whose importance is not to be calculated on\nthis side of eternity.\n\nWhen Mary had finished studying the Scripture lesson for the morrow,\nand had enjoyed a plentiful meal in the cosy kitchen, she said good-bye\nto her kind friends, and set off on her homeward journey, her mind full\nof the one great longing, out of which a resolution was slowly shaping\nitself.\n\nIt was formed at last.\n\n\"I 'must' have a Bible of my own!\" she said aloud, in the earnestness\nof her purpose. \"I must have one, if I save up for it for ten years!\"\nAnd by the time this was settled in her mind the child had reached her\nhome.\n\nChristmas had come, and with it some holidays for Mary and the other\nscholars who attended the school at Abergynolwyn; but our little\nheroine would only have been sorry for the cessation of lessons, had\nit not been that during the holidays she had determined to commence\ncarrying out her plan of earning something towards the purchase of a\nBible.\n\nWithout neglecting her home duties, she managed to undertake little\njobs of work, for which the neighbours were glad to give her a trifle.\nNow it was to mind a baby while the mother was at the wash-tub. Now to\npick up sticks and brushwood in the woods for fuel; or to help to mend\nand patch the poor garments of the family for a worn, weary mother, who\nwas thankful to give a small sum for this timely welcome help.\n\nAnd every halfpenny, every farthing (and farthings were no unusual fee\namong such poor people as those of whom we are telling) was put into a\nrough little money-box which Jacob made for the purpose, with a hole in\nthe lid. The box was kept in a cupboard, on a shelf where Mary could\nreach it, and it was a real and heartfelt joy to her when she could\nbring her day's earnings\u2014some little copper coins, perhaps\u2014and drop\nthem in, longing for the time to come when they would have swelled to\nthe requisite sum\u2014a large sum unfortunately\u2014for buying a Bible.\n\nIt was about this time that good Mrs. Evans, knowing the child's\nearnest wish, and wanting to encourage and help her, made her the\npresent of a fine cock and two hens.\n\n\"Nay, nay, my dear, don't thank me,\" said she, when Mary was trying to\ntell her how grateful she was; \"I've done it, first to help you along\nwith that Bible you've set your heart on, and then, too, because I love\nyou, and like to give you pleasure. So now, my child, when the hens\nbegin to lay, which will be early in the spring, you can sell your\neggs, for these will be your very own to do what you like with, and you\ncan put the money to any use you please. I think I know what you'll do\nwith it,\" added Mrs. Evans, with a smile.\n\nBut the first piece of silver that Mary had the satisfaction of\ndropping into her box was earned before she had any eggs to sell, and\nin quite a different way from the sums which she had hitherto received.\nShe was walking one evening along the road from Towyn, whither she had\nbeen sent on an errand for her father, when her foot struck against\nsome object lying in the road; and, stooping to pick it up, she found\nit was a large leather purse. Wondering whose it could be, the child\nwent on, until, while still within half a mile from home, she met a\nman walking slowly, and evidently searching for something. He looked\nup as Mary approached, and she recognized him as Farmer Greaves, a\nbrother-in-law of Mrs. Evans.\n\n\"Ah! Good evening, Mary Jones,\" said he; \"I've had such a loss! Coming\nhome from market I dropped my purse, and\u2014\"\n\n\"I've just found a purse, sir,\" said Mary; \"is this it?\"\n\n\"You've found a purse?\" exclaimed the farmer, eagerly. \"Yes, indeed,\nmy dear, that is mine, and I'm very much obliged to you. No, stay a\nmoment,\" he called after her, for Mary was already trudging off again.\n\"I should like to give you a trifle for your hon\u2014I mean just some\ntrifle by way of thanks.\"\n\nAs he spoke, his finger and thumb closed on a bright shilling, which\nsurely would not have been too much to give to a poor child who had\nfound a heavy purse. But he thought better (or worse) of it, and took\nout instead a sixpence and handed it to Mary, who took it with very\nheartfelt thanks, and ran home as quickly as possible to drop her\nsilver treasure safely into the box, where it was destined to keep its\npoorer brethren company for many a long year.\n\nBut the Christmas holidays were soon over, and then it was difficult\nfor Mary to keep up with her daily lessons, and her Sunday school\ntasks, the latter involving the weekly visits to the farm-house for\nthe study of the Bible. What with these and her home duties, sometimes\nweeks passed without her having time to earn a penny towards the\npurchase of the sacred treasure.\n\nSometimes, too, she was rather late in reaching home on the Saturday\nevenings, and now and again Molly was uneasy about her. For Mary would\ncome by short cuts over the hills, along ways which, however safe in\nthe daytime, were rough and unpleasant, if not dangerous, after dark;\nand in these long winter evenings the daylight vanished very early.\n\nIt was on one of these occasions that Molly and Jacob Jones were\nsitting and waiting for their daughter.\n\nThe old clock had already struck eight. She had never been so late as\nthis before.\n\n\"Our Molly ought to be home, Jacob,\" said Molly, breaking a silence\ndisturbed only by the noise of Jacob's busy loom. \"It's got as dark\nas dark, and there's no moon to-night. The way's a rugged one, if she\ncomes the short cut across the hill, and she's not one to choose a\nlong road if she can find a shorter, bless her! She's more than after\nher time. I hope no harm's come to the child,\" and Molly walked to the\nwindow and looked out.\n\n\"Don't be fretting yourself, Molly,\" replied Jacob, pausing in his\nwork; \"Mary's out on a good errand, and He who put the love of good\nthings in her heart will take care of her in her going out and in her\ncoming in, from henceforth, even for evermore.\"\n\nJacob spoke solemnly, but with a tone of conviction that comforted\nhis wife, as words of his had often done before; and just then a\nlight step bounded up to the door, the latch was lifted, and Mary's\nlithe young figure entered the cottage, her dark eyes shining with\nintelligence, her cheeks flushed with exercise, a look of eager\nanimation overspreading the whole of her bright face and seeming to\ndiffuse a radiance round the cottage, while it shone reflected in the\ncountenances of Jacob and Molly.\n\n\"Well, child, what have you learned to-day?\" questioned Jacob. \"Have\nyou studied your lesson for the Sunday school?\"\n\n\"Ay, father, that I have, and a beautiful lesson it was,\" responded the\nchild. \"It was the lesson and Mr. Evans together that kept me so late.\"\n\n\"How so, Mary?\" asked Molly. \"We've been right down uneasy about you,\nfearing lest something had happened to you.\"\n\n\"You needn't have been so, mother dear,\" replied the little girl, with\nsomething of her father's quiet assurance. \"God knew what I was about,\nand He would not let any harm come to me. Oh, father, the more I read\nabout Him the more I want to know, and I shall never rest until I've a\nBible of my own. But to-day I've brought home a big bit of the farmer's\nBible with me.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Mary? How could you do such a thing?\" questioned\nMolly in amazement.\n\n\"Only in my head, mother dear, of course,\" replied the child; then in a\nlower voice she added, \"'and my heart.'\"\n\n\"And what is the bit?\" asked Jacob.\n\n\"It's the seventh chapter of Matthew,\" said Mary. \"Our Sunday lesson\nwas from the first verse to the end of the twelfth verse. But it was so\neasy and so beautiful that I went on and on, till I'd learned the whole\nchapter. And just as I had finished, Mr. Evans came in and asked me if\nI understood it all; and when I said there were some bits that puzzled\nme, he was so kind and explained them. If you like, mother and father,\nI'll repeat you the chapter.\"\n\nSo Jacob pushed away his work, and took his old seat in the chimney\ncorner, and Molly began some knitting, while Mary sat down on a stool\nat her father's feet, and beginning at the first verse, repeated the\nwhole chapter without a single mistake, without a moment's hesitation,\nand with a tone and emphasis which showed her comprehension of the\ntruths so beautifully taught, and her sympathy with them.\n\n\"Mark my words, wife,\" said Jacob that night, when Mary had gone to\nbed, \"that child will do a work for the Lord before she dies. See you\nnot how He Himself is leading and guiding His lamb into green pastures\nand beside still waters? Why, Molly, when she repeated that verse,\n'Ask, and ye shall receive,' I saw her eyes shine, and her cheeks glow\nagain, and I knew she was thinking of the Bible that she's set her\nheart on, and which I doubt not she's praying for often enough when we\nknow nothing about it. And the Lord He will give it her some day. Of\nthat I'm moral certain. Yes, Molly, our Mary will have her Bible!\"\n\n[Illustration: _\"The Word of the Lord endureth for ever.\"_\n _From a Bible in the Society's Library (C. Barker, 1585)._]\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nFAITHFUL IN THAT WHICH IS LEAST.\n\n   Since this one talent Thou hast granted me,\n   I give Thee thanks, and joy, in blessing Thee\n        That I am worthy any.\n   I would not hide or bury it, but rather\n   Use it for Thee and Thine, O Lord and Father\n        And make one talent many.\n\n[Illustration] WE may be sure that various were the influences\ntending to mould the character of Mary Jones during the years of her\nschool-life, confirming in her the wonderful steadfastness of purpose\nand earnestness of spirit for which she was remarkable, as well as\nfostering the tender and loving nature that made her beloved by all\nwith whom she had to do.\n\nHer master, John Ellis (who afterwards was stationed at Barmouth),\nseems to have been a conscientious and able teacher, and we may infer\nthat he took no small part in the development of the mind and heart of\na pupil who must always have been an object of special interest from\nher great intelligence and eagerness to learn.\n\nBut as the years passed, the time came for John Ellis to change his\nsphere of labour. He did so, and his place was taken by a man, a sketch\nof whose story may perhaps not inappropriately be given here, as that\nof the teacher under whom Mary Jones was being Instructed at the time\nwhen a great event occurred in her history, an event the recounting of\nwhich we leave for the next chapter.\n\nThe successor to John Ellis was Lewis Williams, a man who from a low\nstation in life, and from absolute ignorance, rose to a position of\nconsiderable influence and popularity, from an utterly heedless and\ngodless life, to be a God-fearing and noble-minded Christian.\n\nHe was a man of small size, and from all that we can learn of his\nintellect and talents we can hardly think that they were of any\nhigh order. But what he lacked in mental gifts, he made up in iron\nresolution, in a perseverance which was absolutely sublime in its\ndetermination not to be baffled.\n\nHe was born in Pennal in the year 1774; his parents were poor, but of\nthem nothing further is known.\n\nLike other boys at that time, and in that neighbourhood, he was wild\nand reckless, breaking the Sabbath continually, and otherwise drawing\nupon himself the censure of those with whom he was acquainted.\n\nBut when he was about eighteen years old, he chanced on one occasion to\nbe at a prayer-meeting, when a Mr. Jones, of Mathafarn, was reading and\nexpounding the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans.\n\nThe word of God, thus made known to Lewis Williams in perhaps a fresh\nand striking manner, was the means of carrying home to his hitherto\nhard heart the conviction of sin; and a change was from that time\nobserved in him, which gradually deepened, until none could longer\ndoubt that he had become an earnest and consistent Christian.\n\nOn the occasion of his requesting to be admitted to membership in a\nlittle Methodist church at Cwmllinian, he was asked (probably as one\nof the test questions), \"If Jesus Christ asked you to do some work for\nHim, would you do it?\" His answer gives us the key to his success: \"Oh\nyes; 'whatever' Jesus required of me I would do 'at once.'\"\n\nSuch was the commencement of the religious life of this most singular\nman.\n\nSome years after, when in service at a place called Trychiad, near\nLlanegryn, he could not but notice the ignorance of the boys in the\nneighbourhood, and, burning with zeal to perform some direct and\nspecial work for his Heavenly Master, he resolved to establish there a\nSunday school, and a week-night school besides, if possible, in order\nto teach the lads to read.\n\nThis would have been praiseworthy, but still nothing remarkable in\nthe way of an undertaking, had Lewis Williams received any sort of\neducation himself. But as he had never enjoyed a day's schooling in his\nlife, and could hardly read a word correctly, the thought of teaching\nothers seemed, to say the least, rather a wild idea.\n\nBut how often the old proverb has been proved true that where there\nis a will there is a way; and once more was this verified in the\nexperience of Lewis Williams.\n\nOwing to the young man's untiring energy and courage, his school was\nopened in a short time, and he began the work of instruction, teaching,\nwe are told, the alphabet to the lowest class by setting it to the tune\nof \"The March of the Men of Harlech.\"\n\nDr. Moffat, we know, tried the same plan of melody lessons forty years\nlater, with a number of Bechuana children, teaching them their letters\nto the tune of \"Auld Lang Syne\" with wonderful facility and success.\n\nBut Lewis Williams, if he set up for a schoolmaster at all, could\nhardly confine his instructions to the lowest class in the school; yet\nin undertaking the teaching of the older boys, he was coming face to\nface with an obstacle which might well have seemed insurmountable to\nany one whose will was less strong or courage less undaunted.\n\nThe master could not read, or at least he could neither read fluently\nnor correctly, yet he had bound himself to teach reading to the lads in\nhis school.\n\nPainfully mindful of his deficiencies, he used, before commencing his\nSunday school exercises or his evening classes, to pay a visit to a\ngood woman, Betty Evans by name, who had learned to read well. Under\nher tuition, he prepared the lessons he was going to give that day or\nthe next, so that in reality the master of that flourishing little\nschool was only beforehand with his scholars by a few hours.\n\nAt other times he would invite a number of scholars from an endowed\nhigh school in the neighbourhood, to come for reading and argument.\n\nWith quiet tact and careful foresight, he would arrange that the\nsubject taken for reading and discussion should include the lesson\nwhich he would shortly have to give.\n\nWhile the reading and talk went on, he listened with rapt attention.\nThe discussions as to the meaning or pronunciation of the more\ndifficult words were all clear gain to him, as familiarizing his mind\nwith what he desired to know.\n\nBut none of these youths meeting thus had an inkling that the man who\ninvited them, who spoke so discreetly, and listened so attentively, was\nhimself a learner, and dependent upon them for the proper construction\nof phrases, or for the correct pronunciation of words occurring in his\nnext day's or week's lessons.\n\nThe school duties were always commenced with prayer, and as the master\nhad a restless, unruly set of lads to do with, he invented a somewhat\npeculiar way of securing their attention for the devotions in which he\nled them.\n\nFamiliar with military exercises through former experiences in the\nmilitia, he would put the restless boys through a series of these, and\nwhen they came to \"stand at ease,\" and \"attention!\" he would at once,\nbut very briefly and simply, engage in prayer.\n\nWhile Lewis Williams was thus hard at work at Llanegryn, seeking to win\nhearts to the Saviour, and train minds to serve Him, it happened that\nMr. Charles of Bala, intending to preside at a members' meeting to be\nheld at Abergynolwyn, arrived at Bryncrug the evening before, and spent\nthe night at the house of John Jones, the schoolmaster of that place.\n\nIn the course of conversation with his host, Mr. Charles asked him if\nhe knew of a suitable person to undertake the charge of one of his\nrecently established schools in the neighbourhood. John Jones replied\nthat he had heard of a young man at Llanegryn, who taught the children\nboth on week-nights and Sundays; \"but,\" added the schoolmaster; \"as I\nhear that he himself cannot read, can hardly understand how he is able\nto instruct others.\"\n\n\"Impossible!\" exclaimed Mr. Charles. \"How can any one teach what he\ndoes not himself know?\"\n\n\"Still, they say he does so,\" replied John Jones.\n\nMr. Charles at once expressed a wish to see this mysterious instructor\nof youth, who was reported as imparting to others what he did not\nhimself possess. The next day, accordingly, summoned by John Jones,\nour young schoolmaster made his appearance. His rustic garb, and the\nsimplicity of his manner, gave the impression of his being anything but\na pedagogue, whatever might have been said of him.\n\n\"Well, my young friend,\" said Mr. Charles, in the genial pleasant way\nthat was natural to him, and that at once inspired with confidence all\nwith whom he had to do, \"they tell me you keep a school at Llanegryn\nyonder, on Sundays and week-nights, for the purpose of teaching\nchildren to read. Have you many scholars?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, far more than I am able to teach,\" replied Lewis Williams.\n\n\"And do they learn a little by your teaching?\" asked Mr. Charles, as\nkindly as ever, but with a quaint smile lurking round his mouth.\n\n\"I think some of them learn, sir,\" responded the young teacher, very\nmodestly, and with an overwhelming sense of his own ignorance\u2014a\nconsciousness that showed itself painfully both in his voice and manner.\n\n\"Do you understand any English?\" questioned Mr. Charles.\n\n\"Only a stray word or two, sir, which I picked up when serving in the\nmilitia.\"\n\n\"Do you read Welsh fluently?\"\n\n\"No, sir, I can read but little, but I am doing my very best to learn.\"\n\n\"Were you at a school before beginning to teach?\" asked Mr. Charles,\nmore and more interested in the young man who stood so meekly before\nhim.\n\n\"No, sir. I never had a day's schooling in my life.\"\n\n\"And your parents did not teach you to read while you were at home?\"\n\n\"No, sir, my parents could not read a word for themselves.\"\n\nMr. Charles opened his Bible at the first chapter of the Epistle to the\nHebrews, and asked Lewis Williams to read the opening verses.\n\nSlowly, hesitatingly, and with several mistakes, the young man\ncomplied, stumbling with difficulty through the first verse.\n\n\"That will do, my lad,\" said Mr. Charles; \"but how you are able to\nteach others to read, passes my comprehension. Tell me now by what plan\nyou instruct the children.\"\n\nThen the poor young teacher described the methods to which he had\nrecourse for receiving and imparting instruction; he gave an account\nof his musical A B C; the lessons given to himself by Betty Evans; the\nreadings and discussions of the grammar school boys; and the scholars\nplaying at \"little soldiers.\"\n\nAs Lewis Williams proceeded with his confessions (for such they\nappeared to him), Mr. Charles, with the discernment which seems to have\nbeen one of his characteristics, had penetrated through the roughness\nand uncouthness of the narrator to the real force of character and\nearnestness of the man. He saw that this humble follower of the\nSaviour had earnestly endeavoured to improve his one talent, and work\nwith it in the Master's service, and that he only needed help in the\ndevelopment of his capacity, to render him a most valuable servant of\nChrist. He recommended him therefore to place himself for a time under\nthe tuition of John Jones, and thus fit himself for efficient teaching\nin his turn.\n\nDuring the following three months, Lewis Williams followed the advice\nof Mr. Charles; and this was all the schooling that he ever had.\n\nHis self-culture did not, however, cease with the help gained from John\nJones. Every hour he could spare was devoted to study, in order to fit\nhimself for one of the schoolmasters' places under Mr. Charles' special\ncontrol and management. And we are told that in order to perfect\nhimself further in reading, he used to visit neighbouring churches, to\nstudy the delivery and reading of the ministers presiding there.\n\nHis earnest desire was gratified at last, for in the year 1799\u2014that\nis, when he was about twenty-five years of age\u2014he was engaged by Mr.\nCharles as a paid teacher in one of his schools. He was removed to\nAbergynolwyn a year later, and here, among his pupils, was our young\nfriend Mary Jones.\n\nIn his subsequent years of work he was the means of establishing many\nnew schools, and of reviving others which were losing their vitality;\nand at length, he even became a preacher, so great was his zeal in his\nMaster's service, and so anxious was he that all should know the truth\nand join in the work of the Lord.\n\nHe died in his eighty-eighth year, followed by the sincere gratitude\nand deep love of the many whom he had benefited.\n\nOur story now returns to Mary Jones, who at the time that Lewis\nWilliams became schoolmaster at Abergynolwyn, was nearly sixteen years\nold.\n\nShe was an active, healthy maiden, full of life and energy, as earnest\nand as diligent as ever. Nor had her purpose faltered for one moment\nas regarded the purchase of a Bible. Through six long years she had\nhoarded every penny, denying herself the little indulgences which the\npoverty of her life must have made doubly attractive to one so young.\nShe had continued her visits to the farm-house, and while she there\nstudied her Bible lessons for school, her desire to possess God's Holy\nBook for herself grew almost to a passion.\n\nWhat joy it would be, she often thought, if every day she could read\nand commit to memory portions of Scripture, storing her mind and heart\nwith immortal truths. \"But the time will come,\" she had added, \"when I\nshall have my Bible. Yes, though I have waited so long, the time will\ncome.\" Then on her knees beside her little bed she had prayed aloud,\u2014\n\n   \"Dear Lord, let the time come quickly!\"\n\nAs may be supposed, Mary was the great pride and delight of her\nparents. She was more useful, more her mother's right hand than ever;\nand her father, as he looked into her clear, honest, intelligent dark\neyes, and heard her recite her lesson for school, or recount for his\nbenefit all the explanations to which she had that day listened,\nthanked the Lord in his heart, for his brave, God-fearing child, and\nprayed that she might grow up to be a blessing to all with whom she\nmight have to do in the future.\n\n[Illustration: _\"If a man love me, he will keep my words.\"_\n _Tail-piece from Coverdale's New Test. (1538) in the Society's Library._]\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nON THE WAY.\n\n   A strong, brave heart, and a purpose true,\n     Are better than wealth untold,\n   Planting a garden in barren ways,\n     And turning their dust to gold.\n\n[Illustration] \"O MOTHER! O father! Only think! Mrs. Evans has just\npaid me for that work I did for her, and it is more than I expected;\nand now I find I have enough to buy a Bible. I'm so happy I don't know\nwhat to do.\"\n\nMary had just come from the farm-house, and now as she bounded in with\nthe joyful news, Jacob stopped his loom, and held out both hands.\n\n\"Is it really so, Mary? After six years' saving! Nay then, God be\nthanked, child, who first put the wish into your heart, and then gave\nyou patience to wait and work to get the thing you wanted. Bless you,\nmy little maid,\" and Jacob laid a hand solemnly upon his daughter's\nhead, adding in a lower tone, \"and she shall be blest!\"\n\n\"But tell me, father dear,\" said Mary after a little pause, \"where\nam I to buy the Bible? There are no Bibles to be had here or at\nAbergynolwyn.\"\n\n\"I cannot tell you, Mary, but our preacher, William Huw, will know,\"\nreplied Jacob; \"you will do well to go to him to-morrow, and ask how\nyou're to get the book.\"\n\nActing upon her father's suggestion, Mary accordingly went the next\nday to Llechwedd to William Huw, and to him she put the question so\nall-important to her. But he replied that not a copy could be obtained\n(even of the Welsh version published the year before) nearer than of\nMr. Charles of Bala; and he added that he feared lest all the Bibles\nreceived by Mr. Charles from London had been sold or promised months\nago.\n\nThis was discouraging news, and Mary went home, cast down indeed, but\nnot in despair. There was still, she reflected, a chance that one copy\nof the Scriptures yet remained in Mr. Charles's possession; and if so,\nthat Bible should be hers.\n\nThe long distance\u2014over twenty-five miles\u2014the unknown road, the\nfar-famed, but to her, strange minister, who was to grant her the boon\nshe craved\u2014all this, if it a little frightened her, did not for one\nmoment threaten to change her purpose.\n\nEven Jacob and Molly, who at first, on account of the distance,\nobjected to her walking to Bala for the purchase of her Bible, ceased\nto oppose their will to hers; \"for,\" said good Jacob to his wife, \"if\nit's the Lord answering our prayers and leading the child, as we prayed\nHe might, it would ill become us to go against His wisdom.\"\n\nAnd so our little Mary had her way, and having received permission for\nher journey, she went to a neighbour living near, and telling her of\nher proposed expedition, asked if she would lend her a wallet to carry\nhome the treasure should she obtain it.\n\nThe neighbour, mindful of Mary's many little acts of thoughtful\nkindness towards herself and her children, and glad of any way in which\nshe could show her grateful feeling and sympathy, put the wallet into\nthe girl's hand, and bade her good-bye with a hearty \"God speed you!\"\n\nThe next morning, a fresh, breezy day in spring, in the year 1800,\nMary rose almost as soon as it was light, and washed and dressed with\nunusual care; for was not this to be a day of days\u2014the day for which\nshe had waited for years, and which must, she thought, make her the\nhappiest of girls, or bring to her such grief and disappointment as she\nhad never yet known?\n\nHer one pair of shoes\u2014far too precious a possession to be worn on a\ntwenty-five mile walk\u2014Mary placed in her wallet, intending to put them\non as soon as she reached the town.\n\nEarly as was the hour, Molly and Jacob were both up to give Mary her\nbreakfast of hot milk and bread, and have family prayer, offering a\nspecial petition for God's blessing on their child's undertaking, and\nfor His protection and care during her journey.\n\nThis fortified and comforted Mary, and, kissing her parents, she\nwent out into the dawn of that lovely day\u2014a day which lived in her\nremembrance till the last hour of her long and useful life.\n\nShe set out at a good pace\u2014not too quick, for that would have wearied\nher ere a quarter of her journey could be accomplished, but an even,\nsteady walk, her bare brown feet treading lightly but firmly along\nthe road, her head erect, her clear eyes glistening, her cheek with a\nhealthy flush under the brown skin. So she went\u2014the bonniest, blithest\nmaiden on that sweet spring morning in all the country round.\n\n[Illustration: CADER IDRIS.]\n\nNever before had everything about her looked to Mary as it looked on\nthat memorable morning. The dear old mountain seemed to gaze down\nprotectingly upon her. The very sun, as it came up on the eastern\nhorizon, appeared to have a smile specially for her. The larks soared\nfrom the meadow till their trilling died away in the sky, like a\ntuneful prayer sent up to God. The rabbits peeped out at her from leafy\nnooks and holes, and even a squirrel, as it ran up a tree, stopped\nto glance familiarly at our little maiden, as much as to say, \"Good\nmorning, Mary; good luck to you!\" And the girl's heart was attuned to\nthe blithe loveliness of nature, full of thankfulness for the past and\nof hope for the future.\n\nAnd now, leaving our heroine bravely wending her way towards Bala, we\nwill Just record briefly the history of that good and earnest man on\nwhom the child's hopes and expectations were this day fixed, and who\ntherefore, in Mary's eyes, must be the greatest and most important\nperson\u2014for the time\u2014in the world.\n\nBut apart from the ideas and opinions of a simple girl, Thomas Charles\nof Bala was in reality a person of great influence and high standing\nin Wales, and had been instrumental in the organization and execution\nof much important and excellent work, in places where ignorance and\ndarkness had hitherto prevailed. Hence the name (by which he often\nwent) of \"the Apostolic Charles of Bala.\"\n\nHe was now about fifty years of age, and had spent twenty years in\ngoing about among the wildest parts of Wales, preaching the Word of\nLife, forming schools, and using his great and varied talents wholly in\nthe service of his Master.\n\nAt the age of eighteen he had given himself to the Saviour, and his\nfirst work for the Lord was in his own home, where he was the means of\ninstituting family worship and exerting an influence for good none the\nless powerful that it was loving and gentle.\n\nHis education was begun at Carmarthen, and continued at Oxford, and\nwe learn that the Rev. John Newton was a kind and good friend to\nhim during a part of his student life, and that on one occasion his\nvacation was spent at the house of this excellent man.\n\nThe Rev. Thomas Charles became an ordained minister of the Church of\nEngland in due course, but owing to the faithful and outspoken style of\nhis preaching, many of his own denomination took offence and would not\nreceive him; so he seceded from the Church of England and joined the\nWelsh Calvinistic Methodists; but his greatest work hitherto had been\nthe establishment of Day and Sunday Schools in Wales. The organization\nof these, the selection of paid teachers, the periodical visiting and\nexamination of the various schools, made Mr. Charles's life a very\nbusy one. But as he toiled on, he could see that his labour was not\nin vain. Wherever he went, carrying the good news, proving it in his\nlife, spending all he was and all he had in the service of Christ,\u2014the\ndarkness that hung over the people lifted, and the true light began to\nshine.\n\nThe ignorance and immorality gave place to a desire for knowledge\nand holiness, and the soil that was barren and stony became the\nplanting-place of sweet flowers and pleasant fruits.\n\nSuch, in brief, was the man\u2014and such his work up to the time of Mary\nJones's journey to Bala.\n\nAbout the middle of the day Mary stopped to rest and to eat some food\nwhich her mother had provided for her. Under a tree in a grassy hollow\nnot far from the road, she half reclined, protected from the sun by\nthe tender green of the spring foliage, and cooling her hot dusty feet\nin the soft damp grass that spread like a velvet carpet all over the\nhollow.\n\nEre long too she spied a little stream, trickling down a hill on its\nway to the sea, and here she drank, and washed her face and hands and\nfeet, and was refreshed.\n\nHalf an hour's quiet rested her thoroughly, then she jumped up, slung\nher wallet over her shoulder again, and recommenced her journey.\n\nThe rest of the way, along a dusty road for the most part, and under a\nwarm sun, was fatiguing enough; but the little maiden plodded patiently\non, though her feet were blistered and cut with the stones, and her\nhead ached and her limbs were very weary.\n\nOnce a kind cottager, as she passed, gave her a drink of butter-milk,\nand a farmer's little daughter, as Mary neared her destination, offered\nher a share of the supper she was eating as she sat in the porch in the\ncool of the evening; but these were all the adventures or incidents in\nMary's journey till she got to Bala.\n\nOn arriving there, she followed out the instructions that had been\ngiven her by William Huw, and went to the house of David Edwards, a\nmuch respected Methodist preacher at Bala.\n\nThis good man received her most kindly, questioned her as to her motive\nin coming so far, but ended by telling her that owing to Mr. Charles's\nearly and regular habits (one secret of the large amount of work which\nhe accomplished), it was now too late in the day to see him.\n\n\"But,\" added the kind old man, seeing his young visitor's\ndisappointment, \"you shall sleep here to-night, and we will go to Mr.\nCharles's as soon as I see light in his study-window to-morrow morning,\nso that you may accomplish your errand in good time, and be able to\nreach home before night.\"\n\nWith grateful thanks Mary accepted the hospitality offered her, and\nafter a simple supper, she was shown into the little prophet's chamber\nwhere she was to sleep.\n\nThere, after repeating a chapter of the Bible, and offering an earnest\nprayer, she lay down, her mind and body alike resting, her faith sure\nthat her journey would not be in vain, but that He who had led her\nsafely thus far, would give her her heart's desire.\n\nAnd the curtains of night fell softly about the good preacher's humble\ndwelling, shadowing the sleepers there; and the rest of those sleepers\nwas sweet, and their safety assured, for watching over them was the\nGod of the night and the day\u2014the God whom they loved and trusted, and\nunderneath them were the Everlasting Arms.\n\n[Illustration: A CORNER OF BALA LAKE.]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: BALA.]\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTEARS THAT PREVAIL.\n\n   Often tears of joy and sorrow meet;\n   Marah's bitter waters turn'd to sweet.\n\nBALA is even now a quiet little town, situated near the end of Bala\nLake, on the north side of a wide, cultivated valley. A hundred years\nago, it was more quiet and rural still. The scenery is pastoral in its\ncharacter, hilly rather than mountainous, but well wooded and watered.\nThe town is a favourite resort of people fond of shooting and fishing.\nAltogether it is a pretty, cheerful, healthy spot, but wanting in the\nimposing grandeur and rugged beauty of many other parts of North Wales.\n\nSuch, then, was the place to which our little heroine's weary feet had\nbrought her on the preceding evening, and such was the home\u2014for the\ngreater part of his life\u2014of Thomas Charles of Bala.\n\nMary's deep, dreamless sleep was not broken until her host knocked at\nher door at early dawning.\n\n\"Wake up, Mary Jones, my child! Mr. Charles is an early riser, and will\nsoon be at work. The dawn is breaking; get up, dear!\"\n\nMary started up, rubbing her eyes. The time had really come, then, and\nin a few minutes she would know what was to be the result of her long\nwaiting.\n\n[Illustration: BALA LAKE.]\n\nHer heart beat quicker as she washed and dressed, but her excitement\ncalmed when she sat down for a minute or two on the side of her bed,\nand repeated the 23rd Psalm.\n\nThe sweet words of the royal singer were the first that occurred to\nher, and now, as she murmured \"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not\nwant,\" she felt as though she were of a truth being watched over and\ncared for by a loving Shepherd, and being led by Him.\n\nShe was soon ready, and David Edwards and his guest proceeded together\nto Mr. Charles's house.\n\n\"There's a light in his study,\" said the good old preacher. \"Our\napostle is at his desk already. There are not many like him, Mary;\nalways at work for the Master. The world would be better had we more\nsuch men.\"\n\nMary did not reply, but she listened intently as David Edwards knocked\nat the door. There was no answer, only the tread of a foot across the\nfloor above, and the next moment the door opened, and Mr. Charles\nhimself stood before them.\n\n\"Good morning, friend Edwards! And what brings you here so early? Come\nin, do,\" said the genial, hearty voice, which so many knew, and had\ncause to love. Then, as David Edwards entered, Mr. Charles noticed the\nlittle figure behind him in the doorway.\n\nA rather timid shrinking little figure it was now, for Mary's courage\nwas fast ebbing away, and she felt shy and frightened.\n\nA few words of explanation passed between the old preacher and Mr.\nCharles; then Mary was invited to enter the study.\n\n\"Now, my child,\" said Mr. Charles, \"don't be afraid, but tell me all\nabout yourself, where you live, and what your name is, and what you\nwant.\"\n\nAt this Mary took courage and answered all Mr. Charles's questions,\nher voice (which at first was low and tremulous) strengthening as her\ncourage returned. She told him all about her home and her parents, her\nlonging when quite a child for a Bible of her own, then of the long\nyears during which she had saved up her little earnings towards the\npurchase of a Bible\u2014the sum being now complete.\n\nThen Mr. Charles examined her as to her Scripture knowledge, and\nwas delighted with the girl's intelligent replies, which showed how\nearnestly and thoroughly she had studied the Book she loved so well.\n\n\"But how, my child,\" said he, \"did you get to know the Bible as you do,\nwhen you did not own one for yourself?\"\n\nThen Mary told him of the visits to the farm-house, and how, through\nthe kindness of the farmer and his wife, she had been able to study her\nSunday school lessons, and commit portions of Scripture to memory.\n\nAs she informed Mr. Charles of all that had taken place, and he began\nto realize how brave, and patient, and earnest, and hopeful she had\nbeen through all these years of waiting, and how far she had now come\nto obtain possession of the coveted treasure, his bright face became\novershadowed, and, turning to David Edwards, he said, sadly, \"I am\nindeed grieved that this dear girl should have come all the way from\nLlanfihangel to buy a Bible, and that I should be unable to supply her\nwith one. The consignment of Welsh Bibles that I received from London\nlast year was all sold out months ago, excepting a few copies which I\nhave kept for friends whom I must not disappoint. Unfortunately the\nSociety which has hitherto supplied Wales with the Scriptures declines\nto print any more, and where to get Welsh Bibles to satisfy our\ncountry's need I know not.\"\n\nUntil now, Mary had been looking up into Mr. Charles's face, with her\ngreat, dark eyes full of hope and confidence; but as he spoke these\nwords to David Edwards, and she noticed his overclouded face, and began\nto understand the full import of his words, the room seemed to her to\ndarken suddenly, and, dropping into the nearest seat, she buried her\nface in her hands, and sobbed as, perhaps, few girls of her age had\never sobbed before.\n\nIt was all over, then, she said to herself\u2014all of no use\u2014the prayers,\nthe longing, the waiting, the working, the saving for six long years,\nthe weary tramp with bare feet, the near prospect of her hopes being\nfulfilled, all, all in vain! And to a mind so stocked with Bible texts\nas hers, the language of the Psalmist seemed the natural outburst for\nso great a grief, \"Hath God forgotten to be gracious? Hath He in anger\nshut up His tender mercies?\" All in vain\u2014all of no use! And the poor\nlittle head, lately so erect, drooped lower and lower, and the sunburnt\nhands, roughened by work and exposure, could not hide the great hot\ntears that rolled down, chasing each other over cheeks out of which the\naccustomed rosy tint had fled, and falling unheeded through her fingers.\n\nThere were a few moments during which only Mary's sobs broke the\nsilence; but those sobs had appealed to Mr. Charles's heart with a\npathos which he was wholly unable to resist.\n\nWith his own voice broken and unsteady, he said, as he rose from his\nseat, and laid a hand on the drooping head of the girl before him: \"My\ndear child, I see you 'must' have a Bible, difficult as it is for me to\nspare you one. It is impossible, yes, simply impossible, to refuse you.\"\n\nIn the sudden revulsion of feeling that followed these words, Mary\ncould not speak; but she glanced up with such a face of mingled rain\nand sunshine\u2014such a rainbow smile\u2014such a look of inexpressible joy and\nthankfulness in her brimming eyes, that the responsive tears gushed to\nthe eyes\u2014both Mr. Charles and David Edwards.\n\nMr. Charles turned away for a moment to a book-cupboard that stood\nbehind him, and opening it, he drew forth a Bible.\n\nThen, laying a hand once more on Mary's head, with the other he placed\nthe Bible in her grasp, and, looking down the while into the earnest,\nglistening eyes upturned to him, he said:\n\n\"If you, my dear girl, are glad to receive this Bible, truly glad am I\nto be able to give it to you. Read it carefully, study it diligently,\ntreasure up the sacred words in your memory, and act up to its\nteachings.\"\n\nAnd then, as Mary, quite overcome with delight and thankfulness, began\nonce more to sob, but softly, and with sweet, happy tears, Mr. Charles\nturned to the old preacher, and said, huskily, \"David Edwards, is not\nsuch a sight as this enough to melt the hardest heart? A girl, so\nyoung, so poor, so intelligent, so familiar with Scripture, compelled\nto walk all the distance from Llanfihangel to Bala (about fifty miles\nthere and back) to get a Bible! From this day I can never rest until I\nfind out some means of supplying the pressing wants of my country that\ncries out for the Word of God.\"\n\n[Illustration: MR. CHARLES'S HOUSE AT BALA.]\n\nHalf an hour later, Mary Jones, having shared David Edwards's frugal\nbreakfast, set off on her homeward journey.\n\nThe day was somewhat cloudy, but the child did not notice it; her\nheart was full of sunshine. The wind blew strongly, but a great calm\nwas in her soul, and her young face was so full of happiness that the\nsimple folk she met on the way could not but notice her as she tripped\nblithely on, her bare feet seeming hardly to press the ground, her eyes\nshining with deep content, while the wallet containing her newly-found\ntreasure was no longer slung across her back, but clasped close to her\nbosom.\n\nThe sun rose and burst through the clouds, glorifying all the\nlandscape; and onward steadily went Mary, her heart, like the lark's\nsong, full of thanksgiving, and her voice breaking out now and again\ninto melody, to which the words of some old hymn or of a well-known and\nmuch-loved text set themselves, without an effort on the girl's part.\n\nOn, still on, she went, heeding not the length and weariness of the\nway; and the afternoon came, and the sun set in the western heavens\nwith a glory that made Mary think of the home prepared above for God's\nchildren; that heaven with its walls of jasper, and its gates of pearl,\nand its streets of gold, and its light that needs nor sun nor moon, but\nstreams from the Life-giving Presence of God Himself.\n\nThat evening Jacob and his wife were seated waiting for supper and\nfor Mary. What news would the child bring? How had she sped? Had she\nreceived her Bible? These were some of the questions which the anxious\nparents asked themselves, listening the while for their daughter's\nreturn after the fatigues and possible dangers of her fifty miles' walk.\n\nBut the worthy couple were not long kept in suspense.\n\nPresently the light step which they knew so well, approached the\ncottage; the latch was lifted, and Mary entered, weary, foot-sore,\ndusty and travel-stained indeed, but with happiness dimpling her cheeks\nand flashing in her eyes. And Jacob held out both arms to his darling,\nand as he clasped her to his heart, he murmured in the words of the\nprophet of old, \"Is it well with the child?\" And Mary, from the depths\nof a satisfied heart, answered solemnly, but with gladness, \"It is\nwell.\"\n\nWe sometimes see\u2014and particularly in the case of young people\u2014that\ngreat eagerness for the possession of some coveted article is followed\nby indifference when the treasure is safely in their hands. It was not\nso, however, with Mary Jones. The Bible for which she had toiled, and\nwaited, and prayed, and wept, became each day more precious to her. The\nWord of the Lord was indeed nigh unto her, even in her mouth and in her\nheart.\n\nChapter after chapter was learned by heart, and the study of the Sunday\nschool lessons became her greatest privilege and delight.\n\nIf a question were asked by the teacher, which other girls could not\nanswer, Mary was always appealed to, and was invariably ready with a\nthoughtful, intelligent reply, while in committing to memory not only\nchapters, but whole books of the Bible, she was unrivalled both in the\nschool and neighbourhood.\n\nNor was this all. For though to love, and read, and learn the Bible are\ngood things, this is not the sum of what is required by Him who has\nsaid \"If ye love Me, 'keep' My commandments.\"\n\nMary's study of the Word of God did not prevent the more than ever\nfaithful discharge of all her duties. Her mother, who had at one time\nfeared that Mary's desire for book learning, and longing to possess\na Bible of her own, might lead her to the neglect of her practical\nduties, was surprised and delighted to see that, although there was a\nchange indeed in the girl, it was a change for the better.\n\nThe holy truths that sank into her heart were but the precious seed\nin good ground, which brings forth fruit an hundredfold; and the more\nentire the consecration of that young heart to the Lord, the sweeter\nbecame even the commonest duties of life, because they were done for\nHim.\n\nNot very long after Mary's visit to Bala, she had the great pleasure\nof seeing again the kind friend with whom, in her memory, her beloved\nBible would now always be associated.\n\nMr. Charles, in the course of his periodical visits to the various\nvillages where his circulating schools were established, came to\nAbergynolwyn, to inspect the school there under the charge of Lewis\nWilliams, and by examining the children personally, to assure himself\nof their progress.\n\nAmong the bright young faces upturned to him, his observant eye soon\ncaught sight of one countenance that he had cause to remember with\nspecial and with deep interest; and the interest deepened still more,\nwhen he found that from her alone all his most difficult questions\nreceived replies, and that her intelligence was only surpassed by the\nchildlike humility which is one mark of the true Christian.\n\nWe may be very sure that Mr. Charles did not miss this opportunity of\nsaying a few kind words to his young friend; and that Mary in her turn\ntreasured them up, and remembered them through the many years and the\nvarious events of her after life.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: BALA LAKE.]\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nTHE WORK BEGUN.\n\n   Henceforward, then, the olive-leaf plucked off,\n     Carried to every nation,\n   Shall promise be of re-awakening life,\n     Our sinful world's salvation.\n\nWE have seen that the incident recorded in the last chapter made a\ndeep impression upon the mind and heart of Mr. Charles. The thought of\nthat bare-footed child, her weary journey, her eagerness to spend her\nsix years' savings in the purchase of a Bible; then her bitter tears\nof disappointment, and her sweet tears of joy\u2014all these came back to\nhis recollection again and again, came blended with the memory of the\nignorance and darkness of too many of his countrymen, and with the cry\nthat was ascending all over Wales for the Word of God.\n\nThe girl's story was only an illustration of the terrible sense of\nspiritual death that prevailed during this famine of Bibles; and none\ncould know so well as this good man\u2014whose influence was, from the\nnature of his work, very widely diffused\u2014how deep a want lay at the\nroot of the people's degradation and impiety, against which he seemed,\nwith all his earnest striving, to be making such slow progress. What\nwonder, then, that the question how to secure the publication of\nsufficient copies of God's Word for Wales, occupied his mind almost\nwithout cessation?\n\nIn the winter of 1802, Mr. Charles visited London, full of his one\ngreat thought and purpose, though not as yet seeing how it was to be\naccomplished.\n\nIt was while revolving the matter in his mind one morning, that the\nidea occurred to him of a Society for the diffusion of the Scriptures,\na society having for its sole object the publication and distribution\nof God's Holy Word.\n\nConsulting with some of his friends who belonged to the Committee of\nthe Religious Tract Society, he received the warmest sympathy and\nencouragement, and was introduced at their next meeting, where he spoke\nmost feelingly and eloquently about Wales and its poverty in Bibles,\nbringing forward the story which forms the subject of our little\nbook, and which gave point and pathos to his appeal on behalf of his\ncountrymen.\n\nNor was the appeal without effect. A thrill of sympathy with a people\nthat so longed and thirsted for the Word of God, ran through the\nassembled meeting. An earnest desire took possession of Mr. Charles's\nhearers to do something towards supplying the great need which he so\ntouchingly advocated; and the hearts of many were further stirred,\nand their sympathies quickened, when one of the secretaries of the\nCommittee, the Reverend Joseph Hughes, rose, and in reply to Mr.\nCharles's appeal for Bibles for Wales, exclaimed enthusiastically: \"Mr.\nCharles, surely a society might be formed for the purpose; and if for\nWales, why not for the world?\"\n\nThis noble Christian sentiment found an echo in the hearts of many\namong the audience, and the secretary was instructed to prepare a\nletter inviting Christians everywhere, and of all denominations, to\nunite in forming a society having for its object the diffusion of God's\nWord over the whole earth.\n\nTwo years passed in making known the purpose of the Committee, and in\nnecessary preliminaries, but in the month of March, 1804, the British\nand Foreign Bible Society was actually established, and at its first\nmeeting the sum of \u00a3700 was subscribed.\n\nUnfortunately Mr. Charles was unable to be present at this meeting.\nHe was hard at work at home in Wales, but he heard the news with\nthe greatest joy; and it was owing to his exertions and to those of\nhis friends, as well as to the efforts of other Christian workers\nwho deeply felt the great need of the people at this time, that the\ncontributions in Wales amounted to nearly \u00a31,900; most of this sum\nconsisting of the subscriptions and donations of the lower and poorer\nclasses.\n\nIn the foundation of the Bible Society all denominations met, and were\nbrought thus into sympathy by a common cause, and an earnest wish to\nserve one common Master. Hence we see representatives of all Christian\nChurches working together for the good and enlightenment of the world.\n\nMeanwhile, wherever Mr. Charles was at work, wherever his influence\nextended, there was awakened the longing, and thence arose the\npetition, for the Word of Life; and wherever he told the story, either\non Welsh or English platforms, of the little maiden of Llanfihangel,\nthe simple narrative never failed to carry home some lessons to the\nheart of each hearer.\n\n[Illustration: MONUMENT TO MR. CHARLES AT BALA.]\n\nGreat was the joy and thankfulness of this single-minded and\nhard-working minister of Christ, when he learnt that the first\nresolution of the Committee of the Bible Society was to bring out an\nedition of the Welsh Bible for the use of Welsh Sunday schools; and his\ndelight was greater still when the first consignment of these Bibles\nreached Bala in 1806.\n\nAmong the most useful workers in the early years of the Bible Society\nwas the Reverend John Owen, who soon became one of its secretaries, and\nproved a most earnest and able promoter of the glorious enterprise.\n\nAssociated also with this time of the great Society's childhood are\nthe honoured names of Steinkopff, of Wilberforce, and of Josiah Pratt;\nwhile in Wales, among its earliest supporters, were Dr. Warren, Bishop\nof Bangor, and Dr. Burgess, Bishop of St. David's, who united cordially\nwith Mr. Charles and others in the good work. As to Mr. Charles\nhimself, he evinced the deepest interest in the new spheres of labour\nand usefulness opening in all directions,\u2014an interest which showed\nitself in many practical ways up to the time of his death.\n\nBut in following the operations of the Bible Society, we must not\nforget our friend Mary Jones, who during this time had passed from\nearly girlhood to womanhood.\n\nOn leaving school, she worked as a weaver, and we conclude that she was\nstill living with her parents.\n\nOf one thing we may be sure: that her precious Bible was as dear to her\nas ever, and that she was intensely interested in the founding of the\nBible Society, and in the news of the first edition of Welsh Bibles\nhaving been received at Bala.\n\nBut in addition to her weaving, and the household help she gave her\nmother, who was not so well or strong as formerly, Mary had developed a\ntalent for dressmaking, which stood her in good stead when she wished\nto earn a little extra money.\n\nAll who could afford it came to her to cut out and make their dresses,\nand though Mary never wasted a moment, she sometimes found it quite\ndifficult to do during the day all that she had planned.\n\nAs for Jacob, he was more and more a martyr to asthma, and when the\nwinter winds and fogs came his sufferings were very great, though they\nnever exceeded the quiet patience and fortitude with which he bore his\naffliction\u2014bore it, as he said, \"for the dear Lord's sake,\" who had\nborne so much for him.\n\nOccasionally Mr. Charles would visit Abergynolwyn, and every now and\nthen Llanfihangel, and at such times he and Mary Jones met again, and\nshe would learn from him how the Society in London was going on\u2014that\ngreat London which was a strange, distant, untried world to her, such\nvague ideas had she of its size and its distance from the little,\nquiet, secluded place where she lived.\n\nAnd so, up in London, the great tree of life went on spreading, and\ngrowing, while the root from which it had sprung remained in Wales\nunperceived almost beneath the soil. And thus we see in this life that\nGod has need of the high and the lowly, the great and the small, the\ngold and the baser metal; and \"out\" of all, and \"through\" all, and \"in\"\nall, He works His wondrous way, and permits His creatures to join, as\nit were, with Him in the turning of the world from darkness to His\nmarvellous light.\n\n[Illustration: _Manet._ _\"It remains.\"_\n (_From a Bible in the Society's Library._)]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: LLAN-Y-CIL CHURCH.\n (_The Burial-place of the Rev. Thomas Charles._)]\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nYOUTHFUL PROMISE FULFILLED.\n\n   Nurtured and nursed of Heaven, the blossom bloom'd,\n            Until an open flower\n   With buds around it, gazed upon the sun,\n            Or drank the shower;\n   Nor did forget, in this the blooming time,\n            The fragrance due\n   To Him who gives to Nature all her wealth,\n            To flowers their hue.\n\nWHEN next we glance at our heroine of Llanfihangel, she is Mary Jones\nno longer. A great change has come over her surroundings, and her\nschool work and her old home life with her parents are things of the\npast. For she has married a weaver, Thomas Lewis by name, and is living\nat the village of Bryncrug, near Towyn, not very far from Llanfihangel.\nBut the difference in circumstances has not changed the character of\nMary, save as the advancing summer may be said to change the fruit by\nripening it.\n\nSo dutiful and devoted a daughter as Mary had ever proved herself,\nwould hardly have left her parents while she could minister to the\nwants of their declining years, work for them, and be their great joy\nand comfort. So it is only reasonable to suppose that ere she married,\nboth good old Jacob and his wife had been laid to rest, and that Mary,\nin casting in her lot with Thomas Lewis, whom possibly she had known\nfor many years, would be neglecting no duty that could be required from\na loving daughter.\n\nBut here, at Bryncrug, with a husband and children of her own, and the\ncare of a home for which she alone was responsible, with new duties,\nand fresh cares, Mary's love for her Bible had grown, not diminished.\n\nOther things had changed\u2014companionships, home influences, claims,\ninterests\u2014but the Sacred Word remained to her unaltered, except that\nevery day it grew more into her heart, and became more one with her\nlife, yielding her, in answer to careful study, and earnest prayer for\nGod's Spirit of enlightenment, deep meanings of truth and sweetness\nwhich had hitherto been unperceived.\n\nIf Mary's life was a busy one during the years spent at Llanfihangel,\ndoubly so was her life here at Bryncrug. But the same quiet energy\nand steadfastness of purpose for which she had ever been remarkable\nstill pervaded all that she did, making every duty, however humble and\nhomely, a service for Christ, while by her consistent Christian walk\nand example she influenced for good all that were about her.\n\n[Illustration: BRYNCRUG, NORTH WALES.]\n\nIf a neighbour's child wished to have a Sunday school lesson explained,\nshe invariably came to Mary, who could always spare a few minutes to\ngive the instruction that had been so precious to her in her youthful\ndays. And her intimate knowledge of the Bible gave her a very clear\nway of explaining its truths, while her insight into character, and\nher sympathetic nature, made her a wise counsellor and an acceptable\nteacher.\n\nIf, again, a friend wanted a hint or two in the making of a new dress,\nor advice as to the management of her bee-hives, Mary was always the\nauthority appealed to, as being the most capable, as well as the\nkindest of neighbours, and ever ready to lend a helping hand, or speak\na helpful word.\n\nThus in Bryncrug she was winning for herself the love and confidence of\nher fellow-creatures, and showing forth in life and character the glory\nof that Saviour whose faithful handmaid she tried to be.\n\nWe have just alluded to the fact of her being an authority in the\nmanagement of bees, and she was justly considered so, as her success\nwith her own bee-hives sufficiently proved.\n\nThat success was simply remarkable, both as to the large number of\nhives, and their profitable results.\n\nThe attracting power and influence which Mary seemed to exercise over\npeople appeared to extend even to her bees; but, be this as it might,\nwe are told that whenever she approached the hives, her reception by\nher winged subjects was nothing less than royal, such was the loyalty\nand enthusiasm of these sensible, busy little honey-makers.\n\nThe air would be thick with buzzing swarms, and presently they would\nalight upon her by hundreds, covering her from head to foot, walking\nover her, but never attempting to sting, or showing any feeling but\none of absolute confidence and friendliness. She would even catch a\nhandful of them as though they had been so many flies\u2014but softly, so\nas not to hurt them\u2014and they never misunderstood her, or offered her\nthe slightest injury. In short, there seemed to be a sort of tacit\nagreement between Mary and her bees, and they were apparently proud and\npleased that a part of what they were the means of earning should go\ntowards the support of God's work in the world. For Mary divided the\nproceeds thus:\n\nThe money brought by the sale of the honey was used for the family and\nhousehold expenses, but the proceeds of the wax were divided among the\nsocieties which, poor as she was, Mary delighted to assist.\n\nAmong these, foremost in her estimation stood the British and Foreign\nBible Society, with the establishment of which she had been so closely\nconnected, and she was never happier than when she could spare what for\nher was a large sum, to help in sending the Word of God\u2014so precious to\nher own heart\u2014over the world.\n\nMary was also much interested in the Calvinistic Methodist Missionary\nSociety\u2014a Society founded by the denomination to which she had, for\nso many years, belonged; and many a secret self-denial could have\nborne witness to her generosity in giving of her substance for the\nfurtherance of the Gospel.\n\nOn one occasion we are told that, when a collection was made at\nBryncrug for the \"China Million Testament Fund,\" in the year 1854,\na ten shilling gold piece was found in the collection plate, neatly\nwrapped up between half-pence, and thus hidden until the money came to\nbe counted.\n\nThis was Mary's gift, the outcome of a loving, generous heart touched\nby God's love and the spiritual wants of her fellow-creatures.\n\nMary was sitting at her cottage door one day, when a neighbour, Betsy\nDavies, came up. \"Good day, Mary,\" said she; \"may I come and sit with\nyou for an hour this afternoon? I've a dress I must alter for my eldest\ngirl, and I don't see how to begin, so I thought may be you'd be good\nenough to show me.\"\n\n\"Yes, that I will, with pleasure,\" replied Mary. \"My children are all\nat school, and my husband has gone to Towyn, so I have a quiet hour or\ntwo before me. Let me see your work, Betsy.\"\n\nBetsy Davies laid the garment over Mary; knee, and Mary's eyes, quick\nand intelligent as ever, saw in a moment or two what was needed.\n\n\"That's not a difficult job,\" said she pleasantly, \"nor yet a long one.\nJust unpick that seam, Betsy, and I'll pin it for you as it ought to\nbe; then if you let down the tuck in the skirt, you'll have it long\nenough, and as for the rent in the stuff, I think I've got some thread\nabout the right colour with which you can darn it up. I will show you,\nmy dear, how I darn my little Mary's dresses when she tears them, as\nshe does very often, playing with her brothers. Yours can be mended\njust in the same way, and you'll see the place will hardly show at all.\"\n\nWhen the two women had settled down to their work, Betsy said, \"I wish\nyou'd tell me, Mary, how you manage to get on as you do. You can't be\nrich people, your husband being only a weaver like mine and like most\nof the others here, and yet you never get into debt, and you always\nseem to have enough for yourselves, and what's more wonderful still,\nyou've enough to give away something too; I must say I can't understand\nit!\"\n\n\"I don't think there's anything very hard to understand,\" said Mary,\nsmiling. \"If by great care and a little self-denial we can contribute\nsomething of our substance to help on God's work, it is surely the\ngreatest joy we can have.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's all very well,\" replied Betsy, \"but I never have anything\nto contribute; and yet I haven't as many children as you, and so my\nfamily and housekeeping doesn't cost so much.\"\n\n\"It's like this, Betsy dear,\" said Mary, \"we ask ourselves\u2014I mean my\nhusband, and my children, and I, all of us\u2014'What can we do without?'\nAnd one and another is willing to give up some little indulgence,\nand so we save the money. This we put into a box which we call the\ntreasury, and whenever we add anything to what we keep there, we think\nof the widow who cast into the treasury of the temple her two mites,\nand of our Lord's kind, tender words about her.\"\n\n\"But what sort of things can you give up?\" asked Betsy. \"We poor folk,\nit seems to me, don't have any more than just the necessaries of life,\nand one can't give up eating and drinking, or go without clothes to our\nbacks.\"\n\n\"Yet I think if you consider a bit, you'll see there are some trifles\nwhich are not really needful, though they may be pleasant,\" replied\nMary. \"Now for instance, Thomas had always been used to a pipe and a\nbit of tobacco in an evening after his work was done; but when we were\nall wondering what we could give up for our dear Lord's sake, he said,\n'Well, wife, I'll give up my smoke in the evenings.' And I tell you,\nBetsy, the tears came into my eyes when I heard that, knowing that my\nhusband's words meant a real sacrifice. Then our eldest son, wishing to\nimitate his father, cried out, 'And I've still got that Christmas box\nmy master gave me last winter, and I'll give that.' And Sally, she gave\nup the thought of a new hat ribbon I'd promised her, and she sponged\nand ironed her old one instead, and wore it, feeling prouder than if it\nhad been new. And as for little Benny, he was all one day picking up\nsticks in the wood to earn a penny, and that was his gift.\"\n\n\"And you yourself?\" asked Betsy, with interest.\n\n\"Oh, I have the wax that my bees make; and the money that I got by\nselling that went into the treasury, as well as any other small sum I\ndid not actually need. And this I must say, Betsy, we have never really\nsuffered for the want of anything we have given to God; and He repays\nus with such happiness and content as He alone can give.\"\n\n\"That I can well believe,\" rejoined Betsy, \"for I never hear you\ngrumble, or see you look cross or discontented like the rest of the\nneighbours, and as I do myself only too often. Well, Mary,\" she\ncontinued, \"I mean to try your plan, though it will come very hard at\nfirst, as I'm not used to that sort of saving.\"\n\n\"I think I got used to it when I was a child, putting away my little\nmites of money towards buying a Bible,\" rejoined Mary. \"For six years I\nput by all my little earnings, and since then it has come natural.\"\n\n\"You did get your Bible, then?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed; this is the very one,\" and rising from her seat Mary took\nthe much prized volume from the little table in the cottage, and put it\ninto her visitor's hands.\n\nBetsy looked at it, inside and out, then handed it back saying, \"I\nreally believe, Mary, that this Bible is one of the reasons why you\nare so different from all the rest of us. You've read and studied and\nlearnt so much of it, that your thoughts and words and life are full of\nit.\"\n\nAnd Mary turned her bright dark eyes, now full of happy tears, upon her\ncompanion, and answered in a broken voice\u2014\n\n\"O Betsy dear, if there is a little, even a little truth in what you\nkindly say of me, I thank God that in His great mercy and love He\nsuffers me, poor and weak and simple as I am, to show forth in my small\nway His glory, and the truth of His blessed Word.\"\n\n[Illustration: _Nunquam Frustra._ _\"Never in Vain.\"_\n (_From a Bible in the Society's Library._)]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: RUINS OF MARY JONES'S COTTAGE.]\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nHER WORKS DO FOLLOW HER.\n\n   O mighty tree, o'ershadowing all the earth,\n   In loneliest wilds thy seedling had its birth.\n\nNOW our narrative nears its close. The last glimpse of our friend Mary\nshows us an aged woman clad in the curious old Welsh dress.\n\nShe holds in one hand a staff for the support of her trembling limbs,\nonce so active and nimble; while with the other she clasps to her side\nher beloved Bible, the companion of so many years, the consoler and\ncomforter, the guide and teacher of her life.\n\n[Illustration: MARY JONES IN HER LATER YEARS.]\n\nHow much of joy or of sorrow, of trial or of what the world calls\nsuccess, had fallen to Mary's lot during her long life of eighty-two\nyears, we know not. We learn that she had eight children, several of\nwhom may have died in early life. One son, we believe, is living now\n[1882], having made his home in America.\n\nLittle as we know, however, of Mary's actual experiences, it was\nimpossible that during her married life she should not have learned\nwhat deep sorrow meant, as it is almost certain that she survived\nseveral of her children, and quite certain that her husband too died\nbefore she did.\n\nStill, since we are taught that God's children do not sorrow as those\nwithout hope, so we are sure that the childlike, trusting spirit of\nthis handmaid of the Lord was as ready to suffer as to do the will of\nthe Divine Master, and that however deep the affliction, there was\nno bitterness in the grief, no despair in the tears that watered the\ngraves of loved ones gone before.\n\nFeeble and tottering was now our once bright, bonny, blithe maiden, but\nit was only physically that Mary was altered. She was still the same\nbrave, simple-hearted, earnest, faithful follower of Christ. Time with\nits changes, in parting her from most of those whom she loved on earth,\nhad not separated her from the love of Jesus, or taken away her delight\nin the Word of the Lord that endureth for ever.\n\nIndeed she loved her Bible better even than of old, for she understood\nit more fully, and had proved its truth beyond all doubting, again and\nagain, in her daily life for so many years.\n\nCan we doubt, then, that when the summons came, and she heard the voice\nwhich she had known and loved from childhood, saying to her \"Come up\nhigher!\" she had no fears, no shrinking, but felt that surely since\ngoodness and mercy had followed her all the days of her life, she\nshould dwell in the house of the Lord\u2014that house above, not made with\nhands\u2014for ever.\n\nMary Jones died December the 28th, 1866, at the good old age of\neighty-two. We have no particulars of her last moments, save that on\nher deathbed she bequeathed her precious Bible to the Rev. Robert\nGriffiths, who in his turn bequeathed it to Mr. Rees.\n\nThis Bible, which is now in the possession of the British and Foreign\nBible Society, is a thick octavo, of the edition published by the\nSociety for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, in 1799\u2014the last\nedition of the Welsh Bible previous to the establishment of the Bible\nSociety.\n\nThe volume contains, in addition to the actual text of the now\nrecognized and authorized Scripture, John Cannes' marginal references,\nthe Apocrypha, the Book of Common Prayer, a metrical version of the\nPsalms by Edmund Prys, and various Church tables. It also contains,\nin Mary Jones's handwriting\u2014in perhaps the first English that she\nhad learned\u2014a note that she bought it in the year 1800, when she was\nsixteen years old.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSo, full of days, and like Dorcas of old, of good works, Mary Jones\npassed away from earth to the rest that remaineth for the people of\nGod, a sheaf of ripe corn safely garnered at last in the heavenly\ngranary.\n\n[Illustration: GRAVE OF MARY JONES.\n _Probably the year of the death of Mary Jones should have been given as_\n _1866, as on p. 144, since she was born in 1784._]\n\nShe was buried in the little churchyard at Bryncrug, and a stone has\nbeen raised to her memory by those who loved to recall the influence of\nher beautiful life, and the important if humble part she had taken in\nthe founding of the great work of the British and Foreign Bible Society.\n\nAs it is only by a view of the mighty-stemmed, wide-spreading oak\nthat we can judge of the acorn's potency, its wealth of hidden and\nconcentrated power, so we can hardly appreciate the great importance of\nthe simple narrative which here stands recorded, unless we cast a brief\nglance over some of the details of the glorious work that arose from\nthe small beginnings which form the subject of our story.\n\nIt is an undeniable fact that the idea of the establishment of the\nBritish and Foreign Bible Society laid fast hold of the public mind\nin Great Britain\u2014a hold which extended with marvellous rapidity, as\nwill be seen when we say that while during the first year the money\nexpended in the operations of the Committee amounted to 691_l._; in\nthe eleventh year its expenditure had grown to 81,000_l._, swelling in\nthe fifty-first year to 149,000_l._, while in 1890 the sum reached the\nenormous proportions of nearly 228,000_l._\n\n[Illustration: FAC-SIMILE OF WRITING ON THE BIBLE.]\n\nDuring the first three years following the establishment of the\nSociety, it circulated 81,000 Bibles and Testaments, while in the\nyear 1890 its distribution of Bibles, Testaments, and single books of\nScripture, amounted to 3,792,263.\n\nWhen the Society was founded, the Bible existed in less than fifty\nlanguages. Since then, by its agency, versions have been published in\nno less than 291 languages.\n\nBut these figures bewilder the mind, and it may be more interesting to\nsee how the books have been distributed.\n\nWhen from any fresh place the request comes for a supply of the\nScriptures, special inquiries are instituted and all possible\ninformation obtained. The most accurate and trustworthy is supplied\nby missionaries labouring in the country whence the petition has been\nsent. It is the missionaries, too, who are for the most part the best\nqualified to translate the Divine Word, and the most ready to undertake\nthis difficult but honourable task. When the translation is complete,\nthe Society prints and sends over, free of cost, as many copies as are\nnecessary for the mission work.\n\nThe thankful eagerness with which the Scriptures have been received by\nthe South Sea Islanders, has been as pathetic as it was surprising. The\nnatives would put down their names, months in advance, in the mission\nlist, to bespeak a copy, willingly giving a dollar, or even two, for a\nBible, showing thus their anxiety to possess the Scriptures.\n\nFrequently it has been the case, as in Madagascar, that the deadly\npower of persecution has silenced the voice of the teacher. But\npersecution was of no avail. \"The Lord gave the word, and great was the\ncompany of the preachers!\" Here a book, and there a chapter, and there\nagain a verse\u2014mute yet eloquent teachers, carrying the Gospel of our\nDivine Lord into the very heart of the cruel idol-lands.\n\nThus, while the martyrs fell in their Master's work, and the few\ngodly men that remained were ready to wail with Elijah of old, \"Lo\nI, even I only am left, and they seek my life to take it away,\" the\nsilent messengers were passing from hand to hand, the great work was\ngoing forward unseen, and the kingdom of God came once more, not with\nobservation, but with a quiet, all-pervading power, turning chaos into\norder, and darkness into light.\n\nIt is a matter for deep thankfulness that in some countries\u2014for\ninstance Russia, where missionaries are not allowed to work\u2014the Bible\nis welcomed by the people. Some touching incidents are recorded of the\nwar with Turkey, showing clearly with what eagerness and gratitude the\nScriptures were received.\n\nAn agent for the Bible Society residing at Warsaw, used to visit the\ninfirmaries, accompanied by his daughters, and everywhere joy greeted\ntheir approach.\n\n    \"We often saw the poor soldiers sitting at the window,\" this gentleman\n writes, \"waiting for us, and saluting us at a great distance; and the\n moment we entered the passage, we were hemmed in by a crowd of men\n that had not been supplied with Bibles. Even those who were struggling\n between life and death, and had apparently lost all interest in\n surrounding matters, would try and stretch out a hand to obtain a copy\n of the Scriptures; and when my daughters stooped down to them, asking\n 'Shall I read a few words to you?' a smile would often light up their\n countenances, and they would whisper,\u2014'Yes, read, dear sister, and\n leave us the copy as a remembrance in case we recover.'\"\n\nDuring this war, too, the colporteurs of the Society followed the\narmy on to the battlefields, selling thus about 15,000 volumes of the\nScriptures, the soldiers buying copies to send home to loved ones whom\nthey might never see again.\n\nThen again, at the great fair of Nijni Novgorod, where the merchant\nand trade world of Russia assemble yearly for business transactions of\nevery description, the Society has a stall, and at the fair of 1889\nnearly 8,000 copies were sold.\n\nAs further proof of the power of the Bible and of its influence even\nwhere unaided by missionary zeal and enterprise, we give the following\ntouching narrative.\n\nA native of a little town on the shores of the Adriatic was obliged to\nleave home and go to Naples. There he was led to a knowledge of the\ntruth through a Waldensian minister, and having embraced it, he joined\nthe Church over which the minister presided. Afterwards, he removed\nto Florence, and thence he sent a Bible to a friend of his at home,\naccompanied by a letter containing these words:\n\n    \"This book has greatly benefited my soul; read it, and it will bring a\n blessing to yours.\"\n\nThat man took his friend's advice, read the book, and finding in it the\ntruths his soul needed, gathered his friends and acquaintances around\nhim to read it with them.\n\nWe must not detail the many obstacles thrown in his way by the enemies\nof the Gospel, but need only say that notwithstanding these, numbers\ncontinued to come and hear the reading of God's word, and that when, a\nfew months later, the pastor of the Naples church went there, he found\na number of people who believed the Gospel, and were ready to make a\nprofession of their faith at whatever cost. They proved as good as\ntheir word, and a short time afterwards Signor Pons of Naples returned\nthere to celebrate the Lord's Supper. He thus narrates the scene:\u2014\n\n    \"The event which took place at \u2014 last week, is one which I can never\n cease to remember\u2014one of those consolations which rarely fall to the\n lot of God's servants, but which more than compensate for the toils\n and privations of a lifetime. I found our friends awaiting me with the\n greatest eagerness, and hardly had I come among them when I was asked,\n 'This time we shall celebrate the Supper of the Lord, shall we not,\n sir?'\n\n    \"I did my best to set before them the solemnity of this step, but all\n my objections seemed only to quicken their ardour.\n\n    \"Several days were spent conversing, until, deeming that the time had\n arrived for administering the Lord's Supper to them, I proceeded to\n examine the candidates as to their knowledge of divine things. Thirty\n came forward, and most of these gave full satisfaction.\n\n    \"The scene at the Lord's Supper was most moving. As I prayed before\n partaking, sobs burst from every part of the room, and not a cheek was\n dry.\n\n    \"At the end of the service, one of the communicants rose and said,\n 'I can neither read nor write, but, by the grace of God, I feel that\n whereas before I wallowed in the mire and was blind, I am now in a\n glorious hall, illuminated by the blessed light of day. I can say no\n more.'\"\n\nNardini, the colporteur at Padua, tells an interesting story, which\nfurther illustrates the reforming and life-giving power of the Bible\nunder the blessing of Almighty God. We will let him relate it himself.\n\n    \"Having heard,\" he says, \"that in a village not far from Vicenza a\n knife-grinder had died, giving a most encouraging testimony to the\n truths of the Gospel, I went to the place, to learn precisely the facts\n of the case.\n\n    \"I found that his name was Batista, and that being unmarried, he had\n for several years lived with his brothers. He was converted to the Lord\n solely by means of a Bible which he had bought, it is supposed, from\n some passing colporteur. Before the time of his conversion, in 1872,\n he had been a very profane and immoral man, but afterwards his conduct\n became blameless, and he urged all whom he knew to believe the Gospel.\n In the evenings, especially in winter and on the Lord's day, he invited\n others to join him in reading the Bible and talking of its precious\n truths. Batista died in July, 1877, (at the age of forty) with his\n Bible under his pillow. His life and death produced a deep impression\n on his neighbours, and his memory is fragrant in the village. As the\n result of his labours, two men who were dyers by trade have come firmly\n to believe the Gospel. He himself was never in a Protestant church in\n his life, nor did he even know a minister as member of one.\"\n\nTo the subject of colportage a brief space may not inappropriately\nhere be given, as a means of good, the importance of which it would be\nimpossible to over-estimate.\n\nAs probably every one knows, a colporteur is a man who carries\nsomething on his back. He may really be called a creation of the Bible\nSociety, and though not so conspicuous as the missionary, he does a\nright noble work.\n\nOne of these godly and earnest men sold in Holland during about forty\nyears of labour among the people, 139,000 copies of the Scriptures;\nand when he lay dying, his room was visited by numbers who wished for\nthe privilege of hearing the brave old Christian's testimony to the\ntruth, and of seeing how firm\u2014even now at the last\u2014was his faith in the\nWord of the Lord, which nearly all his life long he had been trying to\ncirculate among the people.\n\nOne important work done by the colporteur is not to be accomplished by\nany other agency. He takes the Bible to those regions most remote from\nthe great centres\u2014to wild, thinly-populated neighbourhoods where the\nhum and bustle of traffic and mart, the cry of the crowded city, never\npenetrate.\n\nFor instance, in Norway, many of the peasants' homes are forty or\nfifty miles from any book-shop, and the people would never obtain the\nScriptures, were it not for these devoted men, who toil up and down the\nmountains, and follow the fiords into the very midst of the country,\ncarrying over land and by water the Word of Life.\n\nThen again, the colporteurs are often the means of overcoming in the\npeople's minds their unwillingness to purchase the Scriptures, and to\nlisten to the truth.\n\nThey are earnest faithful Christians who love the Bible, and in telling\nwhat it has done for them, they bear testimony to what it can do for\nothers. Often too they are men of wonderful memory and ready wit,\nand they can frequently arrest the attention of the careless by the\nquotation of some suitable passage, or startle the lethargic soul from\nits death-like stupor by the trumpet-blast of inspired warning.\n\nWe record the following instance, showing that the work of the\ncolporteur is not confined to the mere porterage and sale of books. As\nit is taken from a German colporteur's journal, we give it in his own\n(translated) words:\n\n    \"One day, just after the dinner hour, I entered the house of a\n carpenter. When I found that he was taking his afternoon nap, my first\n thought was not to disturb him. But I could not feel easy in leaving\n him, so after a moment's hesitation I went up to where he lay, awoke\n him, and said 'Will you buy a Bible?'\n\n    \"'I am a Catholic,' he replied, 'and do not want one;' and he turned\n round to sleep again.\n\n    \"'That is what you say,' I answered, 'but God says \"Awake, thou that\n sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light?\"'\n The man started and sat up.\n\n    \"'I woke you purposely,' I continued, 'without caring whether you liked\n it or not; and in like manner, God, through His Word, is awaking you\n from your spiritual sleep.'\n\n    \"'But we are forbidden to read that book of yours,' he said.\n\n    \"'Nay,' I rejoined, 'what right has a priest to forbid what God\n commands? Obey Him rather than man.'\n\n    \"The man was silent. At last he said, 'A thing I had long forgotten\n comes to my memory. Twenty-five years ago I was working as a journeyman\n in Hamburg, and a friend of mine used every night, when we reached our\n lodgings, to read his Bible; and he told me just what you have been\n saying, to obey God rather than man. I can hear his warning voice now;\n and perhaps you have been sent to revive the impression before it is\n too late. Yes, I will read it. Death may soon come. Only the other\n day a ladder fell with me on it, and it was a miracle that I was not\n killed; but it may have been God's will I should be spared to awake as\n you have urged me to do.' With that he bought a Bible, with the words,\n 'Ah, I wish I had done this long ago!'\"\n\nAnother striking story is told of one of the colporteurs in Bohemia.\n\nHe was coming to the end of a long day's work, sorely discouraged by\nthe rebuffs with which he had met. There remained in the small town but\none cluster of houses unvisited, and he was disposed to pass these by,\nespecially as he knew one of them to be occupied by a gentleman who\nwas an open enemy and mocker of the Bible. But his conscience was not\neasy. His instructions bade him, except for sufficient reason, call at\nevery house; and besides this, to-day the words had been haunting him,\n\"Behold, I stand at the door and knock.\" In a humble sense those words\ndescribed his own calling; and he felt he must be true to it. \"Up,\nfaint heart, and knock!\" he said to himself; \"who knows but thy fears\nshall be removed!\"\n\nSo he plucked up courage to go to the door of this very man; and when\nit was opened, and the master of the house appeared, he could think of\nnothing to say but just this \"Behold, I stand at the door and knock!\"\n\nThe owner was taken aback, as the stranger added in a hurried,\nentreating tone: \"I am not a common hawker; to-day Jesus Himself is\nstanding at the door of your heart. You may turn 'me' away, but oh, do\nnot reject 'Him.' Only believe His Word; I bring it to you. He will not\ncast you out.\" He paused, afraid at his own boldness, but not a word of\nrebuke followed.\n\nThe gentleman called his wife and daughter saying\u2014\"We must not let this\ngood man go; let him sup with us.\"\n\nHe was led into the sitting-room, where they listened eagerly to him as\nhe poured out freely all that was in his heart; and when they sat down\nto the evening meal, they looked to him to give thanks.\n\nAs to what the Society is doing at home, these pages are too brief to\ngive any sort of record of the great work that is going on. There is\nhardly a school, or a hospital, or an asylum that has not been helped\nby it again and again, while out of it (just as from the ever-rooting\nboughs of the banyan-tree new growths arise) numbers of branch Bible\nSocieties have sprung, each a centre of usefulness and of union in its\nown sphere.\n\nAnd\u2014speaking of union and sympathy in a common cause\u2014it has been\nsuggested, and with perfect truth, that even if the Bible Society had\nnever circulated a single copy of the Scriptures, it would yet have\ndone a noble work in affording a meeting-ground for Christian people\nof all ranks and stations, and of every denomination. For whatever the\ndifferences of opinion on some points, believers can unite as brothers\nin honouring God's Word, and speeding it forward over the whole earth.\n\nOf the reality and genuineness of this sympathy and union, the great\nwork done is perhaps the best testimony that could be offered. Happy,\nnay, thrice blest are all those who have a share in it.\n\nAnd by these we do not mean only such as can give largely, or serve\nthe Society in great and conspicuous ways. Let no one say that what he\ncan give is but as a drop in the bucket, and therefore of no value.\nIt is by the tiny rills that like a thread of silver wind adown the\nhill-side\u2014by the silent night dews, by the softly-falling rains, by\nthe quiet springs that swell among the peaty uplands\u2014it is by \"these\"\nthat the river is formed, by these that it is fed and sustained in\nits mighty flow, in the force and depth of the current that bears\ngreat ships on its bosom, down, down to the ocean. Not a drop is lost,\nnothing is valueless; all goes to make up an inestimably precious whole.\n\nAnd now, in conclusion, dear friends young and old, if but one heart\nis moved by the perusal of these pages to more earnest work for the\nMaster, to self-denial and loving service in the spread of His truth,\nto a more eager study of God's Word, and a greater zeal in circulating\nand making it known among others\u2014then indeed this little story of the\npoor Welsh girl and her Bible will not have been written in vain.\n\n[Illustration: THE CASE IN THE BIBLE HOUSE.]","title":"The story of Mary Jones and her Bible","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":24961}