Rapides gazette. (Alexandria, La.) 1869-187?, 1873-02-01
ALEXANDRIA, PARISH OF RAPIDES La q III y 70 y

turn to his ways. o God! such longings
for comforting word in the old familiar
vOices-such dreams of atenement and re-
conciliatiOn!
All these memories between that little
boy and this strange, silent man, whom
nobody knew. E '"
Was there any long-tried servant of
God In Norham that afternoon, poor,
humble, stricken, and tempted to think
that God in his mercy forgets his justice,
and tears the moral from the page which
He purifies with his pardoning blood
Or was there any needless young sinner,
fiattering himself that he will repent in
time, and that then all will be as If ne had
never sinned? Could either have read the
secrets Of that silent wanderer, each
would have got a lesson never to be for
gotten. ......., !
"How can 1 bear it +? he said to himself.
giveness in a dear human voice; but
must not tear open old wounds, that are
healed as much as such wounds can ever
heal. 1t is just. They cannot forget.
My life lies among theirs like a waste
field, whence noxious weeds creep into
other peoples gardens. Will God
Himself forget? How can bear even
his pardon, if his eye is fixed on the sins
that hang about my neck? And vet, o
God, though Thou slaycst me, yet will /
trust in Thee" f.+.1-
And so he made his way among the
long grass to square, old-fashioned
grave-with all the names on it very old,
except one, which, with its remarkable
epitaph, had only been written the very
last year.
To the memory of pN
BARBARA HERON, .a
'i Aged AZ,
who expressly desired that these words of God
whoever should come here, repentant and sorrow
stricken.
"who is God like unto Thee p :. Thou wilt
cast all their sins into the depth of the sea.
"For the Lord shall comfort Zion: He will
comfort all her waste places, and He will make
her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the
garden of the Lord: joy and gladness shall be
found therein: thanksgiving and the voice of mel
And the stranger bowed himself to the
ground, as if he had heard an angels
voice. Perhaps he did. Here was the
love-type of that heavenly love that he
was wildly clutching in a faith that was
half despair 1.-The love that survived sin
and suffering and death, and stretched a
hand to save and soothe from the very
grave itself. faD-.- ti7i'i t'H
Oh, Barbara, Barbara, your tenderness
had taught you to lay sweet snares for
every possible opportunity! Oh, Barba-
ra, Barbara! surely God must have COM
forted you In your lonely walkings in
those green avenues by the ruined abbey.
He did not empty your pure heart Of its
earthly love, but he dropped into 1t a
balm which changed its bitterness to ce-
lestial nectar. Up in heaven, where you
are, Barbara, there is only Joy over the
returning sinner! .f...
And still the stranger sat on the damp
winter sod, with his face between his
hands. He was not wishing her back, the
dear love of his youth. Better where she
was, where no mortal soil could ever
touch that great love, which was
long enough, and strong enough, to
stretch from heaven to earth. Only there
he sat, shutting out from his eyes the
sweet, peaceful scenes around him, even
as they must be shut from his life, and
seeing far beyond the '' waste places'' and
wilderness" that his own sins had made,
into that joyful country where " the ran
sOmed of the Lord shall return" where
"they shall obtain Joy and gladness, and
sorrow and signing shall flee away"
That night the stranger walked again in
front of that lowly house in the quiet by
way. Christmas savors came through
the Kitchen window, bright light cleaned
between the curtains, even sounds of glad
young laughter and merry song reached
the lonely watcher without. And he
could thank God for them now. He
could even smile in sympathy with the
joy he might not share. He had his own.
In that lowly house, after supper, when
the young ones were quiet round the fire
cracking nuts and asking riddles, Aunt
Mary fell into soft sleep on the sofa.
They saw her smile in her slumber, and
when she awOke she told them in her sub
dued, pathetic little voice, that she had
been dreaming of poor Uncle Dick she
saw him with dear Barbara Heron, and
Barbara looked so happy" Sand even
in my sleep, dears," she said, " won
dered within myself, were we all on
earth still, or ali safe together in heav-
en- 2" ,fg3 Fi r-D.-,e .I.ss. !.
1t must have been about that time that
the stranger left Norham by the midnight
mail-train. He stood up in the carriage,
and stretched out his head till the last
spire of Norham Cathedral was lost In the
darkness. But even he had gotten his
Christmas blessing ere he departed-the
prodigal son had found his royal feast
heavenly peace and human love.
"He came and he went like ghost "
said old Peter, at the Four Swans.--Sun-
day Magazine.
Canadian Independence.