Elsie on the Hudson Part 4

"How can we know if we belong to him, papa?" asked Eric.

"If we give ourselves to him--truly, honestly, and with purpose of heart to serve him while we have any being--he will accept us for his own; for he says, 'Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.'"

"'Then will we be Christians and follow Christ--so living, acting, speaking that those who know us will take knowledge of us that we have been with Jesus and learned of him,'" the captain said. "But one who does not walk in the footsteps of Christ--striving to follow his example and do his will--to be like him in temper and spirit, is none of his. But if we have of his spirit, then we become with him sons of G.o.d. He is our Brother and G.o.d the Father, both his Father and ours.

He tells us that he came to save souls. 'For the son of man is come not to destroy men's lives, but to save them.' We must make it our chief business to do his will and win souls for him. That is the commission he gives to each one who professes to love him. He bids them, 'Let your light shine,' 'Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature.' 'He that winneth souls is wise,' is another Bible text. Each one of us must feel that this is his or her own work.

We are none of us to live for self, but to glorify G.o.d and save the souls of our fellow creatures--by bringing them to Christ."

"Yes," said Grandma Elsie, "and we are guilty if we neglect to obey our Father's commands. If we truly love him we will be very earnest and persevering in our efforts to obey. The prophet Daniel tells us, 'They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever.'"

"Grandma," said little Ned Raymond, coming to her side, later in the evening, and looking up at the star-spangled sky, "I'd like to shine like those beautiful stars for ever and ever. I wish I knew how to turn many to righteousness. What's the way to do it?"

"To tell them the sweet story of Jesus and his love," she answered in low, moved tones. "Tell them how he suffered and died that we might live. But first you must give your own self to him."

"I think I have, grandma," he said in low, earnest tones. "I've tried to do it, asking him to take me for his very own, and I think he has; because, you know, he says, 'Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.'"

"Yes, dear child, that is his own word and you need have no fear that he will not keep it."

"But when and where and how should I tell about Jesus to others?"

"Ask him to show you when and where--to teach you what to say and do, and help you never to be ashamed to own yourself one of his disciples."

"Like my father," he said. "I am sure he is never ashamed or afraid to let anybody know that he loves and serves G.o.d. I don't often hear him tell them, but he acts it out always and everywhere."

"Yes, I think he does," said Grandma Elsie, "and it is what we all should do. Remember Jesus' words, 'Whosoever, therefore, shall be ashamed of me and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of the Father with the holy angels.'"

There was a moment of silence; then Neddie asked:

"Grandma, do you think it was right for our soldiers in the Revolution to hang that man for just having that silver bullet in his pocket?"

"Yes; because success in carrying such messages from one British officer to another would probably have cost the lives of very many of our people, and helped the British to take away our liberties."

"Oh, yes! So he was as bad as a murderer; wasn't he?"

"Very much like one, I think. War is a dreadful, dreadful thing! I hope we may never have another."

"It's always wicked on one side, but sometimes right on the other; isn't it, grandma?"

"Yes; when life and liberty are in peril it is right to fight for their preservation. Especially when it is not for ourselves only, but for our children and future generations. If our fathers had weakly given up to the tyranny of the British Government, we would not be the free people we are to-day."

"And it was a dreadfully hard fight for them; wasn't it, grandma?"

remarked little Elsie, who had drawn near enough to hear the latter part of the conversation.

"It was, indeed; and our poor soldiers went through terrible sufferings, from lack of prompt pay and proper food and clothing, as well as from wounds and exposure to the inclement weather."

"Yes, grandma, I remember it was terribly cold when they crossed the Delaware River and fought the battles of Trenton and Princeton; and, oh, so hot when the Battle of Monmouth was fought!"

"I'm glad our papa and Brother Max didn't have to help fight those battles," said Ned; "and I hope we'll never have any more wars. Don't you, grandma?"

"I do, indeed, Neddie," grandma answered; "and I hope it may not be long till we come to the time the Bible speaks of where it says, 'And many nations shall come, and say, Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the G.o.d of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for the law shall go forth of Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge among many people, and rebuke strong nations afar off; and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. But they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree; and none shall make them afraid for the mouth of the Lord of hosts hath spoken it.'"

"What a good time that will be," said the little girl thoughtfully. "I wish it might come soon. Don't you, grandma?"

"Yes, dear; I do, indeed!" was the sweet-toned reply.

CHAPTER IV.

It was Monday morning, the sun not an hour high, when Captain Raymond, sitting on the _Dolphin's_ deck, reading, heard a light footstep approaching, then a sweet-toned voice saying, "Good-morning, my dear father," and, looking up, found Lucilla standing at his knee, her bright eyes gazing lovingly down into his.

"Good-morning, daughter," he returned, taking her hand and drawing her down to a seat by his side, then pa.s.sing an arm about her waist and giving her the accustomed morning caress. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, indeed, papa; from the minute I laid my head upon the pillow till I woke to find it broad daylight."

"I am glad to hear it. It is something that both you and I should be very thankful for."

"And you, papa? did you sleep well?"

"Very; as I hope and believe all on board did. I suppose you left Grace still asleep?"

"Yes, sir; sleeping so sweetly that I took particular pains to move quietly and not wake her."

"That was right," he said. "I want her--my feeble little girl--to take all the sleep she can."

"So do I, father; and I think she has gained a good deal in health and strength since she has had you at home almost all the time to take care of her."

"That's what fathers are for--to take care of the children," he returned with a smile.

"Well, daughter, what would you like to do to-day?"

"Whatever my father bids me," she said with a happy laugh.

"Ah! isn't that a rash choice?" he asked, pa.s.sing his hand caressingly over her hair and smiling down at her as he spoke.

"No, sir; I think not--considering how wise, kind, and loving my father is."

"What would you think of a trip up to Kingston--to view it as one of the scenes of Revolutionary occurrences?"

"Oh, I should like it very much!" she exclaimed with eager delight.

"Do you think of going there to-day, papa?"

"I have been thinking it would answer very well as a sequel to our Sat.u.r.day's visit to Washington's old quarters at Newburgh. We will make the suggestion at the breakfast table, and see what the rest of our company think of it."

"Oh, I don't believe anyone will think of objecting. I shall be astonished if they do."

"But there are other places some may prefer visiting first, and it will be only polite and kind to let each one express his or her preference."