Eastern times., 1856-04-03
GBe storp Gelltr,
A MOTHERS Low E.

work, entitled kate Western
For two or three weeks Clarence had been
confined to his bed The commissions, which
previous to that, had been unusually violent,
had ceased altogether, leaving him weak and
helpless as child. His craving for the stim-
ulants that before had seemed almost necessa-
ry TO his existence, was gone, and he would
lie for hours in an apparent stupor.
More than ever that mothers heart yearned
above her child AS she watched for hours
beside him during the interval of dreadful
calmuess that preceded his death, her soul
was wrestling constantly in prayer. And
when, for tune, the invalid appeared able to
listen 10 her, she spoke gently to him of Jesus,
or read the story of some portion of his suffer
ings, who hath borne our griefs, and carried
our sorrows.'
How her heart lea2ed one day, after he had
been lying for an hour, motionless as statue,
to catch glimpse of the workings of the soul
beating under that lifeless exterior.
Mother, he said softly, without moving.
Well, my son 9 She bent to listen.
Shall morning ever break for me!'
There is light, Clarence, if you will only
look at it,
He extended his hand with sigh as though
cropping for it. Il canno; see it. The night is
very dark, just now
Mrs. Ainslie looked into his face with some
alarm. why, my child, are you worse!'
Only thinking; mother, how you have been
so patient with me, all these long years of
darkness. and how might have found light
long ago, if / had listened to you. That
makes it darker now.
The darkest night is just before the morn
ing whispered the mother.
He shook his head sorrowfuIly my sin
has been so great; against you, mother, and
God, and all love. believe | have almost
worn you out. Ny gentle mother He put
his hand on her thin face, and burst into tears
She kissed him tenderIy, and calming her
own feelings, said gently, Clarence, be quiet,
and will tell you how you may make me
glad that you have suffered, and made me suf-
fer
How, motheri'
by letting your suffering bring you TO Je-
sus.'
That is what I have been thinking over
during all this illaess, but can't mother. l
cannot
Why, my son!'
Il have rejected him so long that he does
not hear me now. have been SO violent and
wicked thai ! am ia despair. Once, there
seemed a glmmer of light, but all is darkness
again now
WhosOerer cometh unto me, will in no
wise cast out, whispered his mother, with
strange feeling thrilling at her heart
&But cannot come, mother Oh, if could
come =
He was becoming too much excited. Long
experience had taught her The danger of the
least mental over-exertion and she had learned
TO be very calm under the greatest press of
feeling. So she said soothingly, there, you
must lie still now, for while, and | will sing
to you. Let me raise your head little. :
She adjusted his pillow, and sat down close
beside him.
Mrs. Ainslie's voice was peculiarly sweet.
To Clarence, in his most violent moments,
there had always been soothing influence in
its soft music which nothing else could supply.
She was singing now the hymn,
"Come ye sinners, poor and needy,
Come in mercy's gracious hour;
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Filled with pity, love and power.
He is willing-He is willing
He is abIe-doubt no more"
An eager look on the pale face OF the inva-
lid showed that he drank in the meaning of her
words He closed his sightless eyes, that had
never lost their beauty, and opened them again
earnestly, as though looking for the light.
She sang again
"Come We weary. heavy laden,
Bruised and wounded by the fall,
Mercy's touch alore can help you,
Jesus bled and died for all.
Not the righteous-not the righteous,
Sinners, Jesus came to call"
When she had finished the hymn, she went
up to him again. He lay quiet, with his eyes
closed, as though asleep. Kate entered the
room, and Mrs. Ainslee motioned her TO watch
little while beside the invalid, then went TO
her own room and knelt where she so often
knelt, to pour her soul in prayer.
While she bowed there, praying for light
to beam al last upon the darkened vision of hel
child, he lay listening to the Spirit that strng
gled with his soul. Going backwards ovel
his years of violence and pain, to the days
when he knelt at his mothers side, and spoke
his evening prayer when her loving eye:
beamed upon him as she told him some simple
story, or read some childish lesson. Then he
wondered if her soft eyes had altered any dur
ing the period of suffering he had brought upor
her; then came back with tenfold force tht
terrible selfreproach. How have woundet
her with my passion, and how much NOR
with my scorn for the lesson of meekness AM
holiness she has patiently read from the Hol,
Bible /! And now the Gays of my struggle ar