The Wide, Wide World

"I have guessed," said Ellen; "I knew who it was some time ago."

"Then why didn't you say so? and you haven't asked a single question," said George.

"No, you haven't asked a single question," said Ellen Chauncey.

"She is a great deal too good for that," said William; "she thinks it is wicked, and that we are not at all nice proper-behaved boys and girls to be playing on Sunday; she is very sorry she could not help being amused."

"Do you think it is wicked, Ellen?" asked her little friend.

"Do you think it isn't right?" said George Walsh.

Ellen hesitated; she saw they were all waiting to hear what she would say. She coloured, and looked down at her little Bible which was still in her hand. It encouraged her.

"I don't want to say anything rude," she began; "I don't think it is quite right to play such plays, or any plays."

She was attacked with impatient cries of "Why not? Why not?"

"Because," said Ellen, trembling with the effort she made, "I think Sunday was meant to be spent in growing better and learning good things; and I don't think such plays would help one at all to do that; and I have a kind of feeling that I ought not to do it."

"Well, I hope you'll act according to your feelings then," said William; "I am sure nobody has any objection. You had better go somewhere else though, for we are going on; we have been learning to be good long enough for one day. Come! I have thought of somebody."

Ellen could not help feeling hurt and sorry at the half sneer she saw in the look and manner of the others as well as in William's words. She wished for no better than to go away, but as she did so her bosom swelled and the tears started and her breath came quicker. She found Alice lying down and asleep, Miss Sophia beside her; so she stole out again and went down to the library. Finding nobody, she took possession of the sofa and tried to read again; reading somehow did not go well, and she fell to musing on what had just passed. She thought of the unkindness of the children; how sure she was it was wrong to spend any part of Sunday in such games; what Alice would think of it, and John, and her mother; and how the Sundays long ago used to be spent, when that dear mother was with her; and then she wondered how she was passing this very one – while Ellen was sitting here in the library alone, what she was doing in that far-away land; and she thought if there only were such things as oracles that could tell truly, how much she would like to ask about her.

"Ellen!" said the voice of John from the window.

She started up; she had thought she was alone; but there he was lying in the window seat.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," said Ellen.

"Come here. What are you thinking about? I didn't know you were there till I heard two or three very long sighs. What is the matter with my little sister?"

He took her hand and drew her fondly up to him. "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about different things; nothing is the matter," said Ellen.

"Then what are those tears in your eyes for?"

"I don't know," said she, laughing; "there weren't any till I came here. I was thinking just now about mamma."

He said no more, still, however, keeping her beside him.

"I should think," said Ellen presently, after a few minutes' musing look out of the window, "it would be very pleasant if there were such things as oracles – don't you, Mr. John?"

"No."

"But wouldn't you like to know something about what's going to happen?"

"I do know a great deal about it."

"About what is going to happen?"

He smiled.

"Yes, a great deal, Ellie, enough to give me work for all the rest of my life."

"Oh, you mean from the Bible! – I was thinking of other things."

"It is best not to know the other things, Ellie; I am very glad to know those the Bible teaches us."

"But it doesn't tell us much, does it? What does it tell us?"

"Go to the window and tell me what you see."

"I don't see anything in particular," said Ellen, after taking a grave look out.

"Well, what in general?"

"Why, there is the lawn covered with snow, and the trees and bushes; and the sun is shining on everything just as it did the day we came; and there's the long shadow of that hemlock across the snow, and the blue sky."

"Now, look out again, Ellie, and listen. I know that a day is to come when those heavens shall be wrapped together as a scroll – they shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment; and it and all the works that are therein shall be burned up."

As he spoke Ellen's fancy tried to follow, to picture the ruin and desolation of all that stood so fair and seemed to stand so firm before her; but the sun shone on, the branches waved gently in the wind, the shadows lay still on the snow, and the blue heaven was fair and cloudless. Fancy was baffled. She turned from the window.

"Do you believe it?" said John.

"Yes," said Ellen, "I know it; but I think it is very disagreeable to think about it."

"It would be, Ellie," said he, bringing her again to his side, "very disagreeable – very miserable indeed, if we knew no more than that. But we know more – read here."

Ellen took his little Bible and read at the open place.

"'Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former shall not be remembered, neither come into mind.'"

"Why won't they be remembered?" said Ellen; "shall we forget all about them?"

"No, I do not think that is meant. The new heavens and the new earth will be so much more lovely and pleasant that we shall not want to think of these."

Ellen's eyes sought the window again.

"You are thinking that it is hardly possible," said John, with a smile.

"I suppose it is possible," said Ellen, "but – "

"But lovely as this world is, Ellie, man has filled it with sin, and sin has everywhere brought its punishment, and under the weight of both the earth groans. There will be no sin there; sorrow and sighing shall flee away; love to each other and love to their blessed King will fill all hearts, and His presence will be with them. Don't you see that even if that world shall be in itself no better than this, it will yet be far, far more lovely than this can ever be with the shadow of sin upon it?"

"Oh yes!" said Ellen. "I know whenever I feel wrong in any way nothing seems pretty or pleasant to me, or not half so much."