THIS sad night made a very deep impression upon Louie; she began to listen carefully when anything was said or read about the children of God, but still she could not find out the right beginning; she yet knew not how a sinner, one by nature a child of wrath, becomes a child of God, a vessel of mercy, a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light. Like Nicodemus, she needed yet to learn that solemn truth, “Ye must be born again." Though she had often read the third chapter of John's Gospel, she yet was foolish enough to think that her own efforts could bring her to the blessed position she so much desired to reach; she hoped that if she could obey those commandments which are given in the Epistles to the children of God, and could feel as children of God were said to feel, she should be able to satisfy her own heart, to assure herself that she was a child of God, and to win the favor of God. Only think what a mistake this was, when God had done a work through His Son Jesus Christ, when God had made known His perfect delight in that work and in the One who had finished the work, and had commanded everyone to look unto Him and be saved. Louie was looking into herself to see what works she could do, and was hoping to win the favor of God when all, yes all His favor, has been poured out upon Christ, the Son of His love, and can only be enjoyed by those who are in Christ. But notwithstanding all this, which was so plainly made known in her own Bible, Louie began to try and mend her ways and her thoughts; they needed a very great deal of mending; she soon found that out. It seemed to her that she tried very hard, I do not quite know about that, but at any rate she found this trying very hard work. Sometimes she felt angry, when reproved or when deprived of something which she much wished to enjoy, and yet she had to try to be good tempered and gentle. Sometimes her lessons seemed long to her, and she was inclined to be idle; sometimes they seemed difficult or dull, and she was inclined to be careless, but she had to try and be diligent, attentive and painstaking; beyond all this, how impossible she found it, with all her trying, to feel right. Did she feel that love to God, that delight in prayer, that rejoicing in the word of God, that kindliness to others and denying of herself which she knew were marks of the children of God? No, indeed, far from it; her doings and feelings were only disappointing to herself. How then could they satisfy God or gain favor from Him?
Sometimes, Louie felt hopeless, sometimes, careless and inclined to give up trying, but she dared not, dreary as the task was and useless as it seemed, for all her hope was in her own efforts. She had not yet learned her lesson, a lesson which all must learn who would enjoy the blessed sense of the favor of God: “In me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." Louie wondered at times why she should be so troubled with fears and failures, the other children seemed to have no such feelings, and she saw no signs in the grown up people around her of anxiety or alarm about their present state or their eternal future. To be sure, grown up people did not, as far as Louie could see, commit sins, but from what she knew of her own heart she could scarcely venture to hope that, even when she grew older, it would produce what would satisfy her, or what would please God. Louie supposed, as she saw no one anxious, and heard no one asking any of the many questions which disturbed her, that all around her were safe. I am not surprised at her supposing this, for it is indeed astonishing that people who hear of judgment to come can go on for a moment unconcerned, without seeking to be assured, through faith in Christ Jesus, that their sins are forgiven, that they have been delivered from judgment, and are numbered among the blood-bought saints of God.
Some among Louie's friends were really children of God, but in that place the Gospel of God's grace to sinners, and salvation for the lost was but little known in its simplicity; and no one ever thought of asking another the important question, “Are you saved?" No one had ever said to Louie, Are you saved? Are you happy and at peace? Do you know that your sins are forgiven you for Christ's sake? When anyone spoke particularly to the children about the things of God it was generally to say what a happy thing it was to be a child of God, what a happy place heaven was, and how dreadful the doom of unrepentant sinners; or else to set before the children what sort of conduct was to be looked for from the children of God. Louie often read of conversions, but they were conversions of heathen or of Roman Catholics; sometimes, when she read of their simple faith and joy, and of the good fruits produced in them, she envied them, ignorant and uncivilized though they might be. Deep down in her heart she felt almost sure that she needed a direct ray of light and life from God, in fact needed conversion, just as much as did the idol-serving heathen, or the poor slave of pope and priest; but she would never have ventured to say such a thing, and I do not think that anyone in the place would have uttered such a thought either.
There was one dear lady who was a very kind friend to the children, and they all loved her; she loved them too, and would often invite them to go and see her, and her great pleasure then was to teach them to sing hymns, to which she played an accompaniment on the piano. All this was very sweet, yet it made Louie very unhappy and sometimes even angry, for how could she take any pleasure in singing about what happy Christians feel while yet she knew not, from moment to moment, how soon the hour might come which would begin an eternity of misery for her? This lady liked to play softly on the piano (she did everything very softly and gently), while the children sang M'Cheyne's beautiful verses beginning, "I once was a stranger to grace and to God;" but how could Louie sing "I once was a stranger" when she felt at that moment such a stranger, so forlorn, as she saw everyone around her singing and looking well content in prospect (as she thought) of a happiness to which it seemed impossible for her to find the way? Alas! she did not turn to Him who said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." With all her longings and all her questions, she never looked for an answer anywhere but in her own heart, and light and life could not be found there.
All this time, though it may surprise you to hear it, Louie appeared to be a very cheerful little girl; she was very fond of play in the garden, the field and the rush common; or when the school-room, on a half-holiday, was dismantled of its accustomed dignities and turned into a steam-boat, a coach, or a group of cottages, inhabited by poor Irishwomen, all with very unmanageable babies, Louie was one of the foremost in the game. None of Louie's companions or friends guessed half the thoughts of that questioning heart; but God saw it all, read it all, understood it all, and the Love which watched over this poor, needy little girl would not allow the sorrows of that heart to be smothered over, because He meant to heal them Himself and to heal them perfectly; and so, often in the very midst of enjoyment, something would occur which would stir up all the troubles and the questions.
It happened thus at a time of very great excitement and pleasure in the village. It was early summer, and a great General was coming home from a far off country, where he had won many victories; his daughter was then staying in the village, and, as she was a friend of Louie's mother, the children were to have a special share in all that took place.
Great preparations were to be made, for the whole village meant to do honor to Lord G. Lessons, for several days, were set aside, and the children spent nearly the whole of the bright summer day in the garden, helping to gather and to sort flowers, with which garlands and nosegays and other ornaments were to be made. You may think that this was very pleasant work, and, like many things of earth, the preparation and expectation were almost the best part of the whole; at least it proved to be so to Louie, for, as you will hear, the long-desired day, before it was ended, was shadowed with one of the many dark clouds which hung over her, and which not only hung over Louie, but which hang over every unsaved person, though he may not, as Louie did, see or fear one of them. Still it is true that while “He that believeth on the Son of God hath everlasting life, he that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him;" and is not that a dark cloud, a cloud which may well cast a heavy shadow over any heart.
The children very much enjoyed their out-door work, and the talking and planning and hearing of all that was to be done, but still they were very glad when at last the long-expected day arrived. Early one morning they all stood at the bottom of the green slope which fronted the house, and saw Lord G. arriving with their friend and her children, and they watched the horses taken out of his carriage, that he might be drawn by a number of men, who stood in readiness at the door of the hotel where he was to stay. There was a great deal of shouting, and waving of hats, flags, garlands and pocket handkerchiefs, in all of which the children, no doubt, did their full part, and some hours later they started on a boating expedition, which was to fill up the afternoon of this eventful day.
Now, the people of the village could settle where they would put arches, and how they would adorn them with flowers, and where they would stop the carriage and draw it themselves to do honor to the great general; and they could choose in what places they would plant flags or strew flowers, but there was one important matter in which they could neither choose nor settle, and that was the weather; and so it happened that, although the morning was fine and the afternoon fixed upon for the boating expedition was bright, a great storm of wind arose suddenly while they were out at sea, and the boat began to toss about in a manner that was very unpleasant to most of its passengers, and which alarmed Louie exceedingly; for, you know, she was still like "the wicked" who "flee when no man pursueth." Great generals, holidays, garlands and rejoicings, all were now as nothing compared with the great waves that rose against the boat. The boatmen did not appear to be disturbed, and no one seemed so much alarmed as Louie; but perhaps, as she thought, they had none of them the same terrible cause for fear that she had, namely, the sense of sins unforgiven, and the expectation of judgment which she was unprepared to meet. So, notwithstanding all that was said to re-assure her, she could only cry out in her terror; and though at last she reached home in safety, with all the rest, the remembrance of the long-looked-for pleasure of that day was quite darkened by the unhappy feelings with which it closed.
How disappointing are the pleasures of this world! how different from those pleasures at God's right hand where there is fullness of joy, in that city where there shall be no night, where they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the glory of God shall lighten it, and the Lamb shall be the light thereof.
But there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth... but they that are written in the Lamb's Book of Life.