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СКАЧАТЬ Clergymen who lose such opportunities of instructing their people in the operations of providence, and the claims of humanity, ought not to wonder if they grow languid, and selfish, and careless of their most obvious duties. Had this gentleman improved this occasion of illustrating the duty of sympathy, by dwelling on the tenderness of our blessed Lord when he wept with the bereaved sisters at the grave of Lazarus: had he distilled the essence of those texts, and diffused their gracious influence into his sermon—“Bear ye one another's burthens;” “Weep with those who weep;” “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of these, ye have done it unto me;”—had his preaching usually been in conformity to the teaching of our Saviour, could the scene have followed, which it is our business to relate?

      We fear there are many who think there is merit in believing certain doctrines; who, mistaking the true import of that text, “by grace are ye saved,” quiet themselves with having once in their lives passed through what they deemed conviction and conversion, and from thence believe their salvation is secure. They are like the barren fig-tree; and unless they are brought to true repentance, to showing their “faith by their works,” we fear they will experience its just fate.

      The house, furniture, and other property of Mr. Elton had lain under an attachment for some time previous to Mrs. Elton's death, but the sale had been delayed in consideration of her approaching dissolution. It was now appointed for the next week; and it therefore became necessary that some arrangement should be immediately made for the destitute orphan.

      The day after the funeral, Jane was sitting in her mother's room, which, in her eyes, was consecrated by her sickness and death; the three aunts met at Mr. Elton's house; she heard the ladies approaching through the adjoining apartment, and hastily taking up her Bible, which she had been trying to read, she drew her little bench behind the curtain of her mother's bed. There is an instinct in childhood, that discerns affection wherever it exists, and shrinks from the coldness of calculating selfishness. In all their adversity, neither Jane, nor her mother, had ever been cheered by a glimmering of kindness from these relatives. Mrs. Elton had founded no expectations on them for her child, but with her usual irresolution she had shrunk from preparing Jane's mind for the shocks that awaited her.

      The three sisters were led in by a young woman who had offered to stay with Jane till some arrangement was made for her. In reply to their asking where she was, the girl pointed to the bed.

      “There,” she said, “taking on despotly.———A body would think,” added she, “that she had lost her uncles and aunts as well as her father and mother. And she might as well,” (she continued, in a tone low enough not to be heard,) for any good they will do her.”

      The eldest sister began the conference by saying, “That she trusted it was not expected she should take Jane upon her hands—that she was not so well off as either of her sisters—that to be sure she had no children; but then Mr. Daggett and herself calculated to do a great deal for the Foreign Missionary Society; that no longer ago than that morning, Mr. D. and she had agreed to pay the expense of one of the young Cherokees at the School at ———; that there was a great work going on in the world, and as long as they had the heart given them to help it, they could not feel it their duty to withdraw any aid for a mere worldly purpose!”

      Mrs. Convers (the second sister) said that she had not any religion, and she did not mean to pretend to any; that she had ways enough to spend her money without sending it to Owyhee or the Foreign School; that she and her husband had worked hard, and saved all for their children; and now they meant they should make as good a figure as any body's children in the country. It took a great deal of money, she said, to pay the dancing-master, and the drawing-master, and the music-master; it was quite impossible for her sisters to think how much it took to dress a family of girls genteelly. It was not now, as it used to be when they were girls: now-a-days, girls must have merino shawls, and their winter hats, and summer hats, and prunella shoes, and silk stockings;—it was quite impossible to be decent without them. Besides, she added, as she did not live in the same place with Jane, it was not natural she should feel for her. It was her decided opinion, that Jane had better be put out at once, at some place where she could do light work till she was a little used to it; and she would advise too, to her changing her name, the child was so young she could not care about a name, and she should be much mortified to have it known, in the town of ———, that her daughters had a cousin that was a hired girl

      There was something in this harsh counsel which touched Mrs. Wilson's (the younger sister's) pride, though it failed to awaken a sentiment of humanity. She said she desired to be thankful that she had been kept from any such sinful courses as sending her children to a dancing-school; nobody could say she had not done her duty by them; the minister's family was not kept more strict than hers.

      “No,” said Mrs. Convers, “and by all accounts is not more disorderly.”

      “Well, that is not our fault, Mrs. Convers, if we plant and water, we cannot give the increase.”

      Mrs. Wilson should have remembered that God does give the increase to those that rightly plant, and faithfully water. But Mrs. W.'s tongue was familiar with many texts, that had never entered her understanding, or influenced her heart. Mrs. Wilson continued—“Sister Convers, I feel it to be my duty to warn you—you, the daughter and granddaughter of worthy divines who abhorred all such sinful practices, that you should own that you send your children to dancing-school, astonishes and grieves my spirit. Do you know that Mr. C———, in reporting the awakening in his parish, mentions that not one of the girls that attended dancing-school were among the converts, whereas two, who had engaged to attend it, but had received a remarkable warning in a dream, were among the first and brightest?”

      “I would as soon,” she continued, “follow one of my children to the grave, as to see her in that broad road to destruction, which leads through a ball-room.”

      “It is easy enough,” replied Mrs. Convers, (adjusting her smart mourning cap at the glass) “to run down sins we have no fancy for.”

      Mrs. Wilson's ready answer was prevented by the entrance of Jane's humble friend, who asked, if the ladies had determined what was to be done with the little girl.

      Mrs. Wilson in her vehemence had quite forgotten the object of their meeting, but now brought back to it, and instigated by a feeling of superiority to Mrs. Convers, and a little nettled by the excuses of Mrs. Daggett, which she thought were meant as a boast of superior piety, she said, that as she had no dancing-masters to pay, and had not “that morning agreed” to adopt a Cherokee—she could afford to take Jane for a little while. The child, she said. must not think of depending upon her for life, for though she was a widow, and could do what she was a mind to her with her own, she could not justify herself in taking the children's meat"—and she would have added—"throw it to the dogs,"—but she was interrupted by a person who, unregarded by the ladies, had taken her seat among them.

      This was a middle aged woman, whose mind had been unsettled in her youth by misfortunes. Having no mischievous propensities, she was allowed to indulge her vagrant inclinations, in wandering from house to house, and town, to town, her stimulated imagination furnishing continual amusement to the curious by her sagacious observations, and unfailing mirth to the young and vulgar, by the fanciful medley in which she arrayed her person. There were some who noticed in her a quickness of feeling that indicated original sensibility, which, perhaps, had been the cause of her sufferings. The dogs of a surly master would sometimes bark at her, because her dress resembled the obnoxious livery of the beggar—a class they had been taught to chase with pharisaical antipathy. But except when her timid nature was alarmed by the sortie of dogs, which she always called the devil's servants, crazy Bet found a welcome wherever she went.

      It is common for persons in her unfortunate circumstances to seek every scene of excitement. The sober, sedate manners of the New-England people, СКАЧАТЬ