GLADLY did Rachel accept the invitation of her new-found friend to spend the last week at her house. She bade her acquaintances farewell, and left one lovely spring afternoon for the little railway station, and in one hour was at her destination. No carriage awaited her, but her friend was there with one of Ireland's warmest welcomes.
Mrs. A. was a widow with limited means, still she had a refined home. After walking about half a mile, the two arrived at a pretty, rustic cottage, overgrown with Virginian creeper, and in summer this was entwined with roses.
A clean, homely-looking girl of about sixteen opened the door, and Rachel was taken into a pretty parlor, which contained no luxurious furniture, but everything that displayed good taste. The sweet perfume of the violets seemed so refreshing.
Before Rachel was asked to divest herself of her hat and cloak, the good-tempered Irish girl brought in a cup of tea, and that, together with the delicious home-made bread and butter, greatly refreshed Rachel; and the warm welcome besides made her feel as she had not done for many a day.
Her room was so pretty, only white calico hangings and coverings trimmed with chintz, made by the hands of her hostess; but there was such an air of comfort about all which was very refreshing. While taking off her things Rachel heard her friend at the piano, playing and singing with a very sweet treble voice—
"There is a home, 'tis better far
Than any earthly home can be.”
This took Rachel's mind from earth to that serener, happier clime, where one day she would meet those dear, departed ones, "no more to sever.”
Rachel went into the parlor, and after a pleasant chat, the friends partook of the evening meal, and happily spent the rest of that evening.
Rachel, although she had been in the house of professing Christians, had never heard the Bible read or prayer offered amidst the family circle; but this was not so here. Mrs. A. read the fourteenth chapter of John: "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid;" and then such a beautiful, heartfelt prayer was offered!
Rachel felt she had found an earthly friend given her by her Father, who can open the hearts of all. What earnest petitions went up to the throne of grace for her that night! and then she joined her hostess in that sweet refrain—
“My God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home in life's rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say—
Thy will be done.”
Rachel retired to her room, and with a thankful heart for all her mercies, she lay awake for some time: the present surroundings seemed an oasis in the desert; but when she looked at her position, apart from this resting-place, she felt afraid of what she had undertaken. The adversary of souls was occupying her with her own weakness, instead of with the One who could use her and strengthen her for any work He thought fit to give her to do. She felt her lonely position, going out again into the unknown future, and for the moment she forgot her strong tower and the Rock of her salvation.
A great depression stole over her, and her feelings found vent in the following words—it seemed as if some unseen person was suggesting them:—
Jesus, Thou heavenly Guide,
Thy light afford, and lead me on;
No path can I descry on this bleak moor,
I've roam'd o'er crag, and mount, and glen,
And found no resting-place for this poor soul of mine.
‘I've breasted oft the crested wave
Of this world's troubled sea.'
And at last my strength is spent,
And lost I am on this wild plain.
I've heard of that stormy night,
And the dark sea waves of Galilee—
How Thy disciples heard above the storm
Thy gentle accents speaking peace :
And at Thy command the elements were still,
For waves and billows sank to rest.
And when Thy troubled ones were affrighted
At Thy hand of love,
Above the storm they heard,
'Tis I, be not afraid.'
O Thou, who art the same
As yesterday, to-day, and days to come,
Lead through the tangled maze,
And up the shining way,
W here gleams the Sun of Righteousness,
To chase the gloom away.
O lead me on, till this poor soul of mine
Is landed safe within the gates
Of that bright city of my God,
Whose everlasting doors were ope'd
With the price of Thine atoning blood,
To poor lost sinners such as I ;
Who when earth has passed away,
Will praise Thee with an eternal song,
Begun in this wild scene,
Where I have lost my way.
These breathings of her soul were heard. The troubled one was at last in a profound slumber, and the next morning she possessed renewed vigor to make the necessary preparations for her departure.
The day arrived for the lonely emigrant to start for Plymouth to meet the steamer for S—. After a somewhat rough passage, she went on board as a second-class passenger. In a few days, after a very pleasant voyage, she steered into the lovely harbor of S—.
Rachel had no heart-pangs in leaving England, because home and all connected with it were no more. She felt that God's hand was everywhere, and He was with her, roam wheresoever she might.
The vessel anchored about a mile from land, on a lovely afternoon. Indeed the weather was always lovely here. The mountains formed a complete background of the shore, which was dotted here and there with pretty villas, and the hills were studded with vineyards.
Rachel, though alone, did not experience any loneliness, for again she lifted her eyes to the everlasting hills, and felt assured that the God who made them, according to His promise, was with her now. As she was gazing from the deck on all the lovely scene before her, she saw a small steamer plying towards the vessel she was on. There were several people on deck, and, as Rachel supposed, either passengers for another part, or those to meet friends. She thought for a moment, "There will be none to see me, and how shall I travel these sixty miles upon those hills?”
The tug came nearer and nearer, and then all stepped on board. A genial-looking clergyman, and a lady with a very sweet face, were making their way to where Rachel was standing. They spoke to her, and said, "The chief steward has told us that you are Miss Barnard, and we have come to welcome you.”
The gentleman gave Rachel a hearty welcome, and the lady, with eyes filled with tears, and a sweet smile, gazed at the emigrant, and drew her arm within her own, and while her husband was seeing that Rachel's luggage was transferred in safety, drew her into conversation. She said:—
"We came to meet you, and thought of staying a few days in S—, and to see you comfortably settled. You would have been welcome indeed at our house, but we could not leave home for several months, if not now, and were anxious to know that you were comfortably settled in every way. My husband and I arrived yesterday, and have taken furnished apartments for you (subject to your approval) with an old Spanish woman, who we found out will do all she can for your comfort. We have also seen several English residents, who are delighted at the prospect of an English governess settling among them. There is near the lodging a small but well-built room, capable of seating fifty persons. The landlord would be willing to let the place for a school.”
Rachel was overwhelmed with all this, and she could find no words of utterance—only a pressure of the hand of her newly-found friend.
In going through life, we meet with all sorts of people, but there are some kindly hearts, and Rachel had found them.
The steamer soon took the friends to land, and they mounted a hill, at the top of which was Rachel's future home. The appearance of the rooms was, of course, a change to English eyes; but they were comfortable, Rachel was soon able to make them more to her taste, The landlady made herself known with smiles and gesticulations. Rachel soon learned her language, and many an hour was passed away in converse on eternal things, without infringing on the good woman's prejudices.
The following day, Rachel and her friends called on the English residents. She had her testimonials with her, but she had no need to show them, for the introduction of the clergyman friend was enough, and before they returned that day to her lodgings, Rachel was promised eighteen pupils, and with fees that placed her at once in a comfortable position. Several of the parents had brought with them sundry articles of school furniture, such as forms, desks, maps, &c., and all eagerly placed them at Rachel's service, and the school-room in a few days had every requisite. When the new teacher looked around and saw maps, easels, black board, terrestrial globe, object lesson cards, "royal readers," slates, and copy-books all she needed, in fact—she could scarcely believe that she was so far away from English shores.
One afternoon, previous to commencing scholastic duties, she was busy preparing the room, when a knock at the door was heard, and on opening it she saw a cottage piano, that had been brought by two Spaniards from a neighboring villa. All perplexity was soon at an end, for the mother of one of her future pupils soon appeared on the scene, and asked Rachel to accept the use of the instrument so long as it was required.
Rachel, with grateful thanks, acknowledged the kindness; and immediately on the departure of her benefactress, sat down and ran her fingers over the keys, and struck some of her sweetest chords. She had that day bidden farewell to her friends, and now she was able to soothe herself with sending up hymns of praise in sweetest strains to her Father and God.