The Basket of Flowers by Christoph von Schmid (top ebook reader TXT) 📖

"I have seen the world," said he, "as well as other people, in the day when I accompanied the young Count on his travels. If there was anything in the large cities superb or magnificent, I went there. I spent whole weeks in pleasure. If there was a brilliant assembly or a lively conversation, I saw and heard as well as my young master. I shared in the most exquisite meals, and of the scarcest wines, and always had more than I wished for. But all these worldly pleasures left me with an empty heart. I assure you solemnly, my dear Mary, that a few moments of peaceful thought and fervent prayer in our arbour in Eichbourg, or under this roof that covers us now, gave me more real joy than all the vain pleasures of the world. Seek then your happiness in a life of service of our blessed Saviour. You will find Him and He will bless you.

"Too well you know, my child, that I have not been without misfortune in this life. When I lost your dear mother my heart was for a long time like a dry and barren garden, whose soil, burned by the sun, cracks open, and seems to sigh for rain. In this way I languished, thirsting for consolation, and at last I found it in the Lord. Oh, my dear daughter, there will be days in your life when your heart also will be like dry and barren ground; but let it not dishearten you. As the thirsty ground calls not for rain in vain, but God sends the refreshing showers, so if you seek your consolation from God, He will refresh your heart as the sweet rain refreshes the thirsty parched earth. Let your confidence in your heavenly Father be unshaken. Firmly believe that there is nothing He will not do for those He loves. Sometimes He may lead us by paths of grief, but be sure that these paths lead to unmingled happiness. Do you recollect, my good Mary, all the grief you felt when, after our painful walk, I fell down with fatigue in the middle of the road? Now you can see that this accident was the means which God made use of to procure for us the comforts which we have enjoyed for three years with the good people of this house. Had I not taken ill that day then we should not have come before their door, or their hearts would not have been touched with compassion for us. All the pleasures which we have enjoyed here, all the good which we may have been enabled to do, are so many benefits which sprang from the sickness which at first so sorely distressed you.

"But you will always find, my dear Mary, that in the troubles of life there are proofs of the Divine goodness, to those who will look for them. If the liberal hand of the Lord has scattered with flowers the mountains and valleys, forests and river-banks, and even the muddy marshes, to give us everywhere the opportunity of admiring the tenderness and beauty of nature, He has also imprinted on all the events of our life the evident traces of His great wisdom, and all His passionate love to man in order that the attentive man may learn by them to love and adore Him.

"In all our life, we have never had to suffer more than when you were accused of a theft, when you were chained and likely to be doomed to death. We were weeping together in prison and lamenting our affliction. Well, even this trial has been a source of great good to us. Looking back upon it we can see that, when the young Countess favoured you above other young girls, honoured you by admitting you to her company, made you a present of a beautiful gown, and expressed a wish that you should always be near her, there was a danger that these great advantages of life would render you vain and trifling, fond of the things of this world, and apt to forget God. Doubtless the Lord consulted our highest interests when He changed our condition, and banished us from happiness into despair. In the misery of our state, in prison and in poverty of circumstances, we have been enabled to live nearer to Him. He has brought us far from the corrupt influences of large towns into this lonely country where He has prepared for us a better home. Here you are like a flower flourishing in solitude, where, if it has not the admiration of man, it has nothing to fear from his hand.

"The good and faithful God who has done all these things for us will give a still more happy turn to your life. For I firmly believe that He has answered my prayer, that He will one day show to the world your innocence. When that time shall come I shall be no more, but I can die in peace without seeing it, for I am convinced of your innocence. Yes, my daughter, the pain which you have suffered will yet be the means of leading you to much happiness on earth, though this kind of happiness is the least, and you will see that God's great design in afflicting us was to sanctify our hearts, and to prepare us for that home to which we can arrive only through tribulation and suffering.

"Believing this, let not your heart be troubled that you are in misfortune. Believe firmly that God's tenderness watches over you, that His care will be sufficient for you in whatever place He chooses to take you. In whatever painful situation you may be placed, say, 'It is the best place for me. Notwithstanding all that, I am safe, for He has brought me here.'"

CHAPTER XI.

MARY'S GREAT LOSS.

When at last Mary could no longer hide from herself the seriousness of her father's illness, she went to the minister of the parish in which Pine Cottage was situated and asked him to come and visit him. The minister, who was a kind-hearted and godly man, gladly availed himself of the opportunity. Besides conversing with James on spiritual matters, he was of great comfort to Mary by the kindly affection with which he treated her. One afternoon when the old man's weakness was sensibly increased, James requested Mary to leave the room for a moment that he might have private conversation with the minister. After a little while, he called her in again, and said—

"My dear child, I have settled all my worldly affairs, and am now ready to depart and be with Christ."

Mary was deeply distressed, and had great difficulty in keeping back her tears, for she saw that the end was rapidly approaching. But out of consideration for her father, and after a great effort, she recovered herself, and remained calm.

The rest of the day was spent by James in silent prayer, and next day he received the Lord's Supper at the hands of the minister, by partaking of the bread and wine which are the symbols of the body and blood of Christ. Faith in the power of God, love to Christ who had redeemed him, and hope of eternal life, had made his venerable countenance radiant with happiness.

Mary remained on her knees beside his bed, weeping and praying. The farmer and his wife and their household looked on in wonder at the rapture of the aged saint, and tears of sympathy were in every eye because of Mary's grief.

It gave the old man pleasure to have Mary read to him in her sweet and clear voice. During the latter part of his illness he desired to hear nothing else than the last words and prayer of Jesus. One night, after all the household had gone to bed, Mary was sitting beside her father. The moon was shining so brightly into the room that the light of the candle was scarcely seen.

"Mary," said the dying man, "read me once again that beautiful prayer of our Saviour."

Mary began to read. "Now," said the old man, "give me the book." Mary gave him the book, and carried the light nearer to him. "This will be the last prayer," said her father, "that I shall make for you," as he marked the passage with his finger, then in a trembling voice he uttered the following prayer: "O Father, I have not long to remain in this world. I am going—I dare hope it—I am going to Thee, my heavenly Father. Oh, preserve this my child from sin, for Thy Name's sake. While I have lived on the earth, I have endeavoured in Thy name to preserve her from it. But, O Lord, I am now going to Thee. I do not ask Thee to take her to Thyself, but only to preserve her from harm. Let Thy holy truth preserve her. Thy word is truth. Grant, O heavenly Father, that the child whom Thou hast given me may at last be admitted to the place where I hope to go. Through Jesus Christ my Saviour. Amen."

Mary repeated, as well as her sobs would allow her, her father's Amen. "Yes," continued the old man, "yes, my daughter, in the kingdom which Jesus had from the beginning of the world, we shall see Him, and we shall see each other." He again lay down on his pillow to rest a little. His hands continued to hold the New Testament, which he had bought with his first money saved from the purchase of food after he left Eichbourg.

"Dear daughter," he said, some minutes afterwards, "I am grateful for all the affection and tenderness which you have shown me since my illness commenced. Trust in your heavenly Father, Mary, and you will receive of Him your reward. Poor and forsaken as I am, I can give you nothing, when I leave you, but my blessing and this book. Live in the ways of righteousness, and this blessing will not be without effect. The blessing of a father with the confidence of the Lord is better for a virtuous child than the richest inheritance. This book, which I wish you to take in remembrance of your father, cost me, it is true, but a few shillings, but if it be faithfully read and its precepts put in practice, I shall have left you the richest treasure. If I had left you as many pieces of gold as the spring produces leaves and flowers, with all that money you could not buy anything so valuable as this book. It is the Word of God. Read it every day, no matter how much work presses upon you; read at least one passage. Preserve it and meditate upon it in your heart during the day."

About three o'clock the next morning James said, in a faint voice, "I feel very ill. Open the window a little." Mary opened it. The moon had disappeared, but the sky was brilliant with stars, and presented a magnificent sight.

"See how beautiful the sky is!" said the dying man. "What are the flowers of earth whose beauty I have so often admired compared with these stars, whose glory suffers no fading? It is there I am going. What joy! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly."

With these words James fell back upon his pillow, and passed peacefully away. Mary had never seen any one die before, and she thought her father had only fainted. In her fright she awoke all the family. They ran to her father's bed, and there she heard them say to each other that he was dead. Abandoning herself to her grief, she threw herself upon her father's body, embraced it, and wept passionately.

"Oh, my father, my good father," said she, "how shall I discharge all my obligations to you? Alas, I cannot now. I can only thank you for all the words, for all good advice I