Bessie at the Sea-Side

Mrs. Rush did not speak, but Bessie did not need any answer. She was quite sure in her own mind; for she never imagined that this brave soldier did not love his Saviour. "He could not be so brave and good if he did not love Jesus very much," she said, looking up at Mrs. Rush. She could not see the lady's face very plainly, for she was bending it down almost close to the pillows. Bessie went on very softly and gravely: "I suppose that's the yeason he's so patient too. Papa says he never saw any one so patient; and I guess he's like lame Jemmy. Jemmy said he couldn't help being patient when he thought how much his Saviour suffered for him, and I guess the colonel is just like him; and he was so brave in the battles, 'cause he knew Jesus loved him and would take him to heaven if he was killed. He would have been afraid, if he didn't know that. And I suppose when he was hurt in that battle and lay on the ground all night, and his own soldiers didn't know where he was, but thought the Sepoys had him, he thought about Jesus and his Father in heaven all the time, and yemembered how Jesus died for him, and kept saying his prayers to them; and so they took care of him, and let his own soldiers come and find him. Oh, I know he must love Jesus very much. And don't you think Jesus took such care of him so he could love him more yet?" Mrs. Rush's face was quite down on her husband's pillows now, and Bessie looked back at him. He had turned his head, and she could not see his face either, but she felt the hand, in which her own was lying, moving a little uneasily.

"I'm 'fraid I esturb him," she said; "I mustn't whisper any more."

She kissed his hand very gently, and laid her head on the sofa beside it. The room was rather dark, and very still, and in a few moments she was fast asleep. After a while the colonel turned his head again, opened his eyes and looked at her. Then Mrs. Rush lifted up her face.

"Were you asleep, Horace?" she asked.

"No," he said, rather crossly, and moving his head impatiently; "I wish you would take her away."

Mrs. Rush was glad that Bessie did not hear him; she knew that this would have grieved her. She lifted the little darling in her arms, and carried her across the floor to her grandmamma's room. Mrs. Stanton herself opened the door; there was no one else in the room.

"This precious child is asleep," said Mrs. Rush, in a low voice. "Shall I leave her with you?"

Mrs. Stanton asked her to lay Bessie on the bed. She did so, and then bent over her for a moment, and when she raised her head, Mrs. Stanton saw how very pale and sad her sweet face was.

"What is it, my child?" asked the kind old lady, taking her hand. Mrs. Rush burst into tears.

"Is your husband worse? Do you think him in danger?"

"Not for this life, but for that which is to come," sobbed Mrs. Rush, laying her head on Mrs. Stanton's shoulder.

"My poor child! and is it so?" said grandmamma.

"Yes, yes, and he will not hear a word on the subject; he has forbidden me to mention it to him. And if he would let me, I do not know how to teach him. I am only a beginner myself. These things are all so new to me; for it was not until I feared that I was to lose him that I felt my own need of more than human strength to uphold me. Bessie, dear little unconscious preacher, has just said more in his hearing than he has allowed me to say for months. God, in his mercy, grant that her innocent words may touch his heart. Dear Mrs. Stanton, pray for him and for me."

Mrs. Stanton tried to comfort her, and then the old lady and the young one knelt down together, while little Bessie slept on, knowing nothing of the hopes and fears and sorrows of those who prayed beside her.

IX.

FAITH

"NURSEY," said Bessie, the next morning, as nurse was putting on her shoes and stockings, after giving her her bath, "I can't think how it is."

"How what is, dear?"

"About the Trinity."

"Well!" said nurse. "The Trinity! and what put that into your head?"

"It's not in my head," said Bessie; "I can't get it there. I try and try to think how it can be, and I can't. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, three Persons and one God," she repeated, slowly; "how can it be, nursey? I know the Father means our Father in heaven, and the Son means Jesus, and the Holy Ghost means Heavenly Spirit; but there's only one God, and I don't understand."

"And wiser heads than yours can't understand it, my lamb," said nurse; "don't bother your little brains about that. It's just one of those things we must take upon faith; we must believe it without understanding it. Don't you think about it any more till you are older."

But Bessie did think about it; and her thoughtful little face looked more grave and earnest than usual all that day. Mamma wondered what she was considering, but said nothing, for she was sure that Bessie would soon come to her if she was in any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about, Bessie?" asked the colonel that afternoon, when she was in his room. He was much better, and was sitting up in his easy-chair.

"What is faith?" asked Bessie, answering his question by another, and turning her great serious, brown eyes on his face. The colonel looked surprised.

"Faith?" he said. "Why, to have faith in a person is to believe in him and trust in him."

Bessie did not look satisfied.

"When you first went in bathing," said the colonel, "did you not feel afraid?"

"No, sir," answered Bessie.

"Why not? Did you not fear that those great waves would wash you away and drown you?"

"No, sir; before I went in, I thought I would be very 'fraid; but papa said he would carry me in his arms, and wouldn't let me be drownded."

"And did you believe him?"

"Why, yes," answered Bessie, opening her eyes very wide at this question; "my father don't tell stories."

"And you were not afraid when he carried you in his arms?"

"No, sir."

"That was faith, – faith in your father. You believed what he told you, and trusted in his care."

Bessie still looked puzzled.

"Well," said the colonel, "don't you understand yet?"

"I don't know how it is about things," said the little girl.

"What things?"

"Things that I don't know how they can be."

"Do you mean, Bessie," said Mrs. Rush, "that you do not know how to have faith in what you do not understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"See here, little old head on young shoulders," said the colonel, drawing Bessie closer to him, and seeming much amused, "when I told you that this box would make sweet music, did you believe me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you understand how it could?"

"No, sir."

"Do you know what this paper-knife is made of?"

"No, sir."

"It is made of the shell of a fish; do you believe it?"