LESSON XXV.

THE BLESSEDNESS OF HIS SERVICE.

Follen's Sermon, "Arise, and Be Doing," and the 8th and 9th Sermons in the same volume.—The Spring Morning: "Agathos."

THE next morning Bertha and Walter breakfasted alone. The walk to Peter's cottage had been too much for their mother, who was not well, and she was too poorly, when morning came, to leave her bed. Bertha felt that their unfaithfulness was the cause of this, and she was sad and thoughtful. Her mother saw where her thoughts still were, and, taking her hand affectionately in hers as she stood beside the bed, said "I was thinking in the night, my child, that we had spoken only about the pain and difficulty that it sometimes is, to give up our selfish desires for duty's sake;—we said nothing about the blessedness of it; but you will find that every pain endured for duty's sake brings a pleasure with it, which, when once tasted, you never would exchange for the pleasure you have had to give up. There is a sweet, quiet joy, an inward peace, in doing our duty, which can be found in no selfish gratification. Nothing

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else can give such a feeling of peace and safety as this surrendering of our will to God's. The pain is only while the struggle lasts;—when once we can feel that we wish nothing but what God wills, all is easy and calm."

Bertha Oh, yes, mother; I know we should have been happy directly, if we had put away those trays and gone with the parcel.

Mother: Yes, you would have felt an inward satisfaction that would even have given a liveliness to your steps;-you would have respected yourselves. You would have felt-though without thinking about it, perhaps—that you were nobler beings after having struggled successfully against the selfish promptings

Bertha Mother, I wish another time, when you wish us to do anything, you would tell us that we must do it. I think we should not have done as we did yesterday, if you had said plainly, “You must go!"

Mother: Perhaps not; but you would not have felt the same satisfaction that you would have done if you had yourselves chosen to obey the better feelings, and conquered the selfish inclination. There is something in the feeling of having conquered, that seems to raise us nearer to God, I think. But, no doubt, it would have been easier to you, if I had given you a decided command to go; and it is what must be done with little children, or with weak ones. It is, indeed, what God does with His children. He

gives clear and broad commands, although He leaves us the power of choice whether or no we will obey them. Weak as we are, what would become of us without these commands? How thankful we ought to be for them; they are, indeed, amongst his chiefest blessings! We are like ignorant little children, and do not know where danger lies, and we should be lost, but for the commands of our kind Parent. I often look back now, with gratitude, upon my dear mother's rules and arrangements for me when I was a little child. I did not understand them then, and often thought them hard; but now I see their wisdom and their kindness, and how they have helped often to make duty less painful to me. So will it be when the soul, freed from the body, looks back upon the discipline of this life. We shall see then that God never was more our Father than when He appointed for us trials by which we were enabled to rise to greater goodness; by which we became strong to do, to dare, and to suffer at the call of duty; and which, by causing us to seek strength and help from Himself, bound us more closely to Him.* We shall feel then 'what blessing, what love, there is in God's commands. Oh, that we could trust Him more entirely, and obey them more gladly and thankfully now. Nothing is so earnest in its desires that we should follow, after the right and the good, as perfect love.* Nothing can guide us so well as perfect wisdom. So,

* Channing.

my child, whether the path of duty be pleasant, or whether it be painful, let us not care to inquire; but, wherever it leads, let us courageously, trustingly, resolutely pursue it, till it brings us at last to our Father.

"And, oh, from that bright throne

I shall look back and see
The path I went, and that alone
Was the right path for me."

We are travelling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod :
They are happy now, and ye
Soon their happiness shall see.

Fear not, brethren; lo! we stand
On the borders of our land:
Jesus, from its summit won,
Bids you undismayed go on.

Lord! obediently we'll go,
Gladly leaving all below:
Only Thou our leader be,
And we still will follow Thee.

Come, ye that love the Lord,

And let your joys be known; Join in a song with sweet accord, And thus surround His throne.

The sorrows of the mind

Be banished from this place; Religion never was designed To make our pleasures less.

The awful God is ours,

Our Father and our love;

He will send down His heavenly powers,

There we shall see His face,

And never, never sin ;

There, from the rivers of His grace,

Drink endless pleasures in.

The men of grace have found

Glory begun below;

Celestial fruits, on earthly ground,

From faith and hope may grow.

Then let our songs abound,

And every tear be dry;

We're marching through Emmanuel's ground

To fairer worlds on high.