GRACE O'GAR A,
TIIE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GUIDE;
OB,
HOW TO BE HAPPY.
BY THE AUTHOR OF " JOHNNY M'KAY," Etc.
FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS.
RICHMOND:
PRESBYTERIAN COMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION.
18 G 7.
CONTENTS.
chap. page
I. The Yacht.... 7
II. The Morning Walk 21
III. The Ascent 33
IV. The Descent 55
V. The Cottage 70
VI. The Conversation 98
VII. The Visit 106
VIII. The Funeral 119
IX. Evil Tidings 110
X. An Unexpected Meeting 148
XT. Talk with an old Friend 161
XII. A Case of Conscience 179
XIII. Flowers under the Snow". 199
XIV. A Visitor 217
XV. New Trials 234
XVI. Offers of Help 252
xvn. The Conclusion 2*5
llusfraiiflttS-
paob
The Little Guide, 2
The Little Guide's Home 71
The Funeral of Old Randal 123
Grace O'Gara refuses to break the Sabbath.... 191
The Music-master's Triumph 263
GRACE O'GARA.
CHAPTER I.
the yacht.
" A vivid sketch of our course," exclaimed
Jane Headley, as her cousin, Richard Moore,
repeated some lines, while he stood by her
on the deck of a yacht which was scudding
down the beautiful bay of Ban try, before a
fresh breeze. " A vivid sketch, but I would
rather read the description than witness the
reality. The bark leaning to the lee, and
girdling the wave, is all very well and
graceful in a poem or picture, but to be on
board, fearing that every gust may turn her
over, is another matter."
" When you are accustomed to our aquatic
excursions you will enjoy it," Richard re-
8
GRACE O'GARA.
plied. " But you may take comfort now ,
we shall soon enter the little hay of Adrig-
hoole, which is as smooth as an inland lake ;
and it is thither we are hound."
" Well," answered his cousin, " if the
scenery which we are going to explore he
half so beautiful as that we have just left
at Glengariff, we shall he well paid for what
I can't help considering the dangers of the
voyage."
" Ah! cousin Jane," said Bichard, " I
can't promise so much. What scenery could
hear comparison with Glengariff?"
The hoat soon after entered the little
haven, which was as smooth as a mirror;
and not only as smooth, hut as bright also,
reflecting in its glassy hosom the mountains
hy which it was surrounded. JanS Head-
ley, now quite at her ease, as the hoat, no
longer the sport of wind and waters, glided
slowly along, expressed her admiration of
the scene.
" I am glad you enjoy it," said her cousin,
Louisa Moore, who was Bichard's sister.
" It is the only kind of pleasure we can offer
you in this out-of-the-way region ; and I
THE YACHT.
9
sometimes fear that you must find it very
dull, after the gayeties to which you are ac-
customed."
" Do you know, Louisa," replied Jane,
I have been drawing a comparison between
my amusements here and those that occupy
my time at home. I suppose you will hard¬
ly believe that the result was in favor of
yours."
" Indeed !" exclaimed Louisa. Can you
really prefer looking at prospects, boating,
and climbing mountains, to the concerts and
sight-seeings of Dublin, not to mention the
coming parties to which you will soon be in¬
troduced ?"
" I really can," answered Jane, " and
think them not only pleasanter, but far
more conducive to the health of both body
and mind."
"How unfortunate that we cannot change
places," replied her cousin. " I, who am
doomed to a country life, would gladly give
up all rural recreations for the pleasures
you think so little about."
" Louisa, Louisa !" exclaimed Eichard,
" this is treason against good taste."
10
GRACE O'GARA.
" Want of taste can scarcely need forgive¬
ness," observed Louisa.
" I • would not say that," replied her
brother, " at least with reference to want of
taste for the beauties of nature. Just look
at the scene around us ; look at the golden
hue with which the evening sun has tinged
the top of that purple mountain, while the
base is skirted by the rich green of the
arbutus. Then the dark woods, the wild
rocks encircling the shore, all reflected in-
the silver bay below. Now tell me, Louisa,
can it be that any person who could gaze
with unadmiring eye, and unexcited feel¬
ings, upon such things as these, could love
and reverence the great Being who has
made them ?"
Louisa smiled and said : " Your poetic en¬
thusiasm is quite assuming a devotional
character, Richard." But he, still looking
grave, appealed to their cousin. " Don't
you think so, Jane ?"
" I am sure," replied Miss Headley, " that
the works of creation ought to lead us to
love and reverence the Creator. Still, not¬
withstanding the exquisite pleasure which I
THE YACHT.
11
have had in seeing the unequaled beauty of
this country since I came to you, I will own
that sometimes thoughts occur to my mind
which greatly mar that enjoyment."
Her cousins looked surprised. " What
can these thoughts he ?" cried Richard.
" Do let us hear them ?"
Before answering, Miss Headley looked
about as if to see whether any one besides
her two companions could overhear what she
said ; but all the others of the party had
formed into coteries of their own, in various
parts of the yacht, and were too much en¬
gaged to mind her. She then said, with a
timid air: " My thoughts you shall have,
Richard, though perhaps you will only laugh
at them. Still they often cause me great
uneasiness of mind."
" In that case we certainly shall not laugh
at them, replied Richard, " nor at anything
else that makes you look so serious."
Jane continued : " I have never mentioned
them before to any one; but we three have
always been so unreserved when together,
that I can speak freely to you about every¬
thing. Well, then, dear cousins, as I gaze
12
GRACE O'GARA.
on such sights as this before us, and think
of the infinite power of Him who made them,
it occurs to me what a dreadful thing it is
to have disobeyed, and thus incurred the
displeasure of such a Being, which I have
often done."
" What an idea !" exclaimed Louisa, seem¬
ing amused as Veil as surprised; butRichard,
looking at Jane, saw such an expression of
unaffected distress on her countenance, that
he checked his sister with a glance, and said :
" My dear cousin, there is not one of us
who has not done wrong as often, probably
far oftener than yourself; and you seem to
forget that this great Being is a God of
mercy as well as of power."
" Ah! but Richard, he is also a God of
justice—strict justice — that 'will by no
means clear the guilty,' which is in the
Bible, as was once pointed out to me."
" Who pointed that out to you, and for
what purpose ?" inquired Richard.
" It was a friend and schoolfellow, and on
a solemn occasion. It was on her death-bed,
for the purpose of warning me not to put off
being religious until I was under similar cir-
THE YACHT.
13
cumstances. She said that, blameless as her
life had appeared to others, she had spent it
in forgetfulness of God, breaking some of his
commandments, and neglecting others ; and
that it was now too late to make up for this.
She had been taught the Bible, but not in¬
fluenced by it; and the recollection of its
contents gave her trouble, not comfort; so
that, as she expressed it, there now remained
to her ' but a fearful looking for of judg¬
ment.* I reminded her, as you did me just
now, Richard, of God's mercy; but she re¬
plied, that he was also a God-of justice ; that
she had heretofore slighted his mercy, and
it was now too late to obtain it. 0 my
dear cousins, her distress was great. I loved
her very much, and never can forget her
last words to me: ' Jane, seek the Lord while
lie may be found.' This scene affected me
so much, that papa would not let me visit
her again. I heard that she found some
consolation in religion before her death, but
could not learn any particulars. Now, can
you wonder that a serious impression was
made on my mind?"
" No, certainly," replied Louisa ; " but I
14
GRACE O'GARA.
do not see why the impression should he
gloomy." .
" Because," said Jane, " I feel that I am
in precisely the same state in which my poor
friend was. I too have been forgetting
God, neglecting, even breaking his com¬
mandments, and consequently under his
displeasure. I would, as she desired me,
seek him, hut do not know how or where.
Can you then wonder that I am uneasy at
such thoughts?"
" No," said Bichard ; " and would con¬
sequently advise you to dismiss them from
your mind."
" But suppose that they are true, cousin,
would it in that case be wise to dismiss
them ? Had I a bodily disease, would you
advise me to forget it, or to seek for a
remedy as quickly as possible, before it was
too late ?"
" That would depend upon my conviction
of its reality," he replied. " Did I believe
it to be, as I do with respect to your mental
trouble, nothing more than the effects of
imagination, my advice would be the same
as that I have just given."
THE YACHT.
15
" Ah, cousin, my uneasiness is not imagin¬
ary ! You allow that the Bible is a revelation
from God, and consequently must be true?"'
" Certainly, Jane, though its meaning
may he misunderstood."
"Well, Bichard, it tells me that I, that
all of us, ' have sinned, and come short of
the glory of Godthat ' whosoever shall
keep the whole law, and yet offend in one
point, he is guilty of all.' My poor dying
friend pointed this out to me. What do
you -say to it ?"
" That you seem to give it rather an ex¬
tensive application," he replied, " not con¬
sidering how Oriental language deals in
hyperbole, and that—"
Miss Headley interrupted him. " For¬
give me, Richard, but this will not do. You
have often called me your •'logical cousin,
and been amused at my attempts at reason¬
ing ; but I assure you I have used all the
logic, all the sophistry I could command, to
try and divest these passages of their force,
to prove that they could not apply to my¬
self. It was in vain. My heart would take
them in their simple obvious meaning, tell-
16
GRACE O'GARA.
ing me that I have need of reconciliation
with Him whom I have offended."
She "stopped, evidently under the influ¬
ence of strong emotion, and, as if suddenly
conscious of having revealed thoughts and
feelings which her companions were not
able to enter into, colored deeply.
" Really you surprise me, Jane," said
Miss Moore. " I have observed, since you
came to us, that you were occasionally
more serious and thoughtful than.formerly,
but had no idea that you would become so
very religious. I hope you are not going
to renounce all the innocent pleasures of
life, as some people think it necessary to do."
" Dear Louisa, I am not1 very religious.
O, I wish I Were ! for then I need not dread
my Creator as an angry judge. But, con¬
cerning the amusements you refer to, I
will acknowledge that I do not well know
what to think."
" What is your difficulty about tbem ?"
inquired Richard. " You are too rational,
cousin Jane, to suppose that God can disap¬
prove of innocent pleasures. Does he not
like to see his creatures happy ?"
THE YACHT.
17
" My difficulty is this: my poor dying
friend's chief regret seemed to he that she
had lived a life of forgetfulness of God.
She said that she had been engaged in pur¬
suits and amusements with which thoughts
of him were nearly incompatible; and
charged me to avoid such if I wished to
learn his true character; and to serve him
if I wished to he happy here and hereafter.
Now, Eichard, I have often heard, and I
believe it to he a fact, that religious people
alone are truly happy, even in this world.
But if religion leads them to give up every
pursuit for which their tastes and habits
have fitted them, how they can spend their
time happily I know not."
" I am not a good theologian," replied
Eichard, " I wish I were; hut those who
are would, I believe, tell you that religion
alters the taste and remodels the habits.
Meanwhile, dear Jane, until you find some
one able tp solve the difficulties with which
you needlessly, as I think, perplex your
mind, I would advise you to dismiss them
from your thoughts, as I said before, and to
enjoy as much happiness as you can."
18 GRACE O'GARA.
There was silence for some minutes, and
then Jane said : " I often think that happi¬
ness is a very undefined term. People
have a variety of meanings for it. What,
Eichard, would you say that it is ?"
" Eeally, my little philosopher," he re¬
plied, " it is a serious matter to enter the
lists of controversy with you. Had I
known that you were such a profound
thinker, I would have come prepared with
definitions and everything needful for a
good argument. However, I must do my
best. I have heard it said that happiness
is ' a figurative and chimerical being, which
every one runs after, but none catches.'
Others will define it to consist in ' the right
action of the moral powers.' "
" I like the last very much," answered
Jane; " it seems well worthy of considera¬
tion, which I must endeavor to give it."
The sails were now furled, and their little
vessel cast anchor not far from the shore,
to which Eichard pointed, exclaiming:
" 0 cousin, does not the grandeur, the
romantic beauty of that scene awaken
pleasanter feelings in your mind than
THE YACHT.
19
dread of Him who made it? Look at that
range of mountains ; how finely their dark
and deeply indented sides contrast with the
bright, smooth surface of the waters. That
tall stately mountain yonder is Adrighoole,
which we are to climb to-morrow ; and now
see its singular and most picturesque
waterfall, tumbling down its side from a
height of a thousand feet. But I must re¬
frain, for it has been said by those who
describe scenery badly, that they produce,
not a description, hut an inventory.
"And now, dear cousin, since your Maker
has furnished the world with such beauty,
and imbued your mind with taste to enjoy
it, there should be nothing of gloom con¬
nected with your doing so. We may learn
that he is good, as well as that he is power¬
ful, from the contemplation of his works,
' And look through nature up to nature's God.' "
But this young man was ignorant that it
is through revelation, not through nature,
that the heart of man must learn"the true
character of his Creator. The poet says,
" Acquaint thyself with God, if thou wouldst taste
His works."
2
20 GRACE O'GARA.
The unrenewed mind, though often suffi¬
ciently refined to enjoy the magnificence
and beauty with which God has been
pleased to deck the habitation of man, can¬
not by any means approach them as he
does who has learned not only the power and
wisdom, hut the mercy and love of their
divine Author, that love which led him to
send his Son to be the Saviour of the world.
Of such we may say:
" He looks abroad into the varied field
Of nature, and though poor, perhaps, compared
With those Whose mansions glitter in his sight,
Calls the delightful scenery all his own.
His are the mountains, and the valleys his,
And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy
With a propriety that none can feel
But who, with filial confidence inspired,
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye,
And smiling say, My Father made them all."
the morning walk.
21
CHAPTER II.
the morning walk.
When the party, which was a large one,
had landed on the wild coast of Adrighoole,
they proceeded to the house of a friend
where they had been offered accommodation
for the night. Their object was to climb,
on the following morning, the loftiest of
the mountain range that encircled the bay,
and to visit the lake near its summit, from
whence issued the waterfall whose foam¬
ing course down its side they had been
admiring.
As a cloudless day was necessary for the
full enjoyment of such an excursion, the
appearance of the sky was, that night,
anxiously watched by the young people,
and some of them rose at early dawn to
prosecute their observations on the weather.
Among these were the cousins, Lousia Moore
and Jane Headley, who had the pleasure of
seeing the sun rise without a cloud, and
22
GRACE O'GARA.
every other indication of a fine day ; so far,
at least, as the variable climate of that
mountainous region could he depended on.
The air was so fresh, and the purple heath-
flower, which covered every crag, so beauti¬
fully glittered in the morning dew, that the
two young ladies resolved on a short walk
before breakfast, and bent their steps to¬
ward the spot where the cascade, after its
descent, reached the base of the mount¬
ain, from whence, winding almost unseen
through the heather and rushes that grow
on its banks, it flows on quietly to the shore,
and runs into the sea.
" Were you, Jane, in the moralizing
mood with which you edified us yesterday
evening," said Louisa, " you would draw a
lesson from the course of this mountain
torrent, comparing it to that of some am¬
bitious mortal who, after being an object
of general attention, admiration, or even of
dread, is at last hidden from public view,
and glides, obscurely and forgotten, into
the ocean of eternity."
" I believe your simile suits us all,
more or less," replied Jane. " But where,
THE MORNING WALK.
23
Louisa, is the lesson you would draw from
it?"
" It is this," Louisa answered ; " that we
ought to enjoy ourselves so long as we are
able to sparkle and dazzle, while the sun
of prosperity shines on us, before we sink
into the dark vale of obscurity. In less
figurative language, to be happy while
we can."
" It is quite natural, and I am sure it is
right," said Jane, " to seek for happiness.
I suppose every one does so, but it seems to
me that there is some great mistake in this
matter, Louisa. The only happiness worth
seeking must be of a sort that would sur¬
vive the high spirits of our young days,
and remain with us through evil as well as
good."
"And what sort is that?" inquired her
friend.
" That is a question which has employed
my thoughts a good deal," replied Jane,
" and your brother's answer to it is the
best that I have met with yet. ' It is,' he
says, ' the result of the right action of the
moral powers.'"-
24
GRACE O'GARA.
" 0 spare me, Jane," interrupted her
cousin. " Keep your reasonings and defini¬
tions for Richard. None but a university
student is fit to talk to you. Or else, dear,
follow my advice and enjoy happiness while
you can, instead of trying to analyse it.
You are mistress of your father's house—a
very nice establishment it is—you can com¬
mand all the pleasures of a town life;
surely, Jane, you are an enviable being."
" I do believe that happiness depends but
little upon outward circumstances," ob¬
served Jane. " If otherwise, whence arises
the high enjoyment shown in every look
and gesture of that young mountaineer
yonder ?"
A small opening in some arbutus and
other wild shrubs, which in that place
skirted the base of the mountain, had just
given to their view the figure of a girl, who
looked about fourteen years old, and who
was bounding from crag to crag with the
agility of a young goat, gathering whortle¬
berries and wild raspberries, which she put
into a basket that hung on her arm. She
had the light hair, the blue eyes, and the
THE MORNING WALK.
25
animated intelligent expression of counte¬
nance that characterizes the Celtic race.
Her dress, though coarse, was far more
tidily arranged than, we regret to say, is
generally the case with the children of the
Irish peasant. Altogether she formed so
picturesque an addition to the landscape,
that the cousins sat down on a projection
of rock from which they could watch her
proceedings unobserved.
After a while they saw her deposit her
basket on a sunny spot, and she then dis¬
appeared. In a few minutes she returned,
leading by the hand an old man, who
seemed to be blind, so cautiously did he
move till they reached the place where her
basket was, and where she seated him,
placed it before him, and sat down beside
him. While he partook of the newly-
gathered fruit, he said something to his
young companion which the cousins could
not hear; but they guessed what it was
when she answered it by singing, in a voice
not only of great sweetness, but of un¬
usual power for one of her years, the fol¬
lowing verses:
26
GRACE O'GARA.
" 0 deem not they are blessed alone
Whose lives an even tenor keep;
The power who pities man has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.
" The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are promises of happier years."
" This seems strange," said Miss Head-
ley, when the songstress had ended ; " I did
not expect to hear a hymn sung in English,
and so well sung too, by one of your native
mountaineers."
" Nor did I," replied Louisa. " And see,
what a respectable-looking old man that is.
Let us get acquainted with them."
The young ladies emerged from their
hiding-place and advanced. When the
little girl saw them she rose, dropped a
courtesy, and said, " You are kindly wel¬
come to Adrighoole, ladies." ~
" Thank you," Jane answered. " We
have been listening with great pleasure to
your singing; pray, what is your name ?"
On hearing this question the old man
stood up, removed his hat from his head,
" See Frontispiece.
THE MORNING WALK.
27
which was as white as snow, and after
making a low formal bow, drew himself up
to his full height with an air of dignity
which, notwithstanding his blindness and
his peasant's dress, was striking. He an¬
swered : " She bears a name, ladies, that
^he need not be ashamed of. She is my
grandniece, and one of the O'Garas of
Ballymoreeil."
" She has a very fine voice," observed
Lousia.
" So she ought, ma'am," he replied.
" The voice of the harper was seldom silent
in Ballymoreen Castle, for our race ever
loved music. But they are all gone now, ex¬
cept myselfand these words were spoken
in a tone which indicated deep emotion.
" Uncle Bandal," said the little girl,
taking one of his withered hands between
both of her own; " Uncle Randal, don't
you remember that you were yesterday
talking about that place where we shall
hear ' the voice of harpers harping with
their harps ;' and where we shall join in the
new song that no one can learn but those
which are redeemed from the earth ?"
28
GRACE O'GARA.
" I do, my child, I do,1" he cried, while
his tall form relaxed from its erect position,
and his countenance assumed an expression
of peace and joy. I do remember it; and
sure a hope like that is worth all the
riches and honors of this world put to¬
gether. 0 that I could cease to ' mind high
things.'"
The cousins looked at each other with
surprise, and felt at a loss what to say.
At length Louisa observed: " It is an early
hour for you to walk out, sir."
" Earlier than I usually go, ma'am ; but
Grace heard that a party had come to visit
the top of the mountain, and brought me
out now, thinking they might employ her
as a guide, and then she could not have
come with me at a later hour."
" You are a young guide," said Jane,
addressing the girl ;• " but I dare say you
know the mountain well enough to he a
good one."
" I do, ma'am. I watch our goats and
sheep that graze on the lower parts, and
I have sometimes climbed to the very top to
look at the prospect, for we can see the hill
THE MORNING WALK.
29
where Bally moreen Castle stands from it,
though it is many a mile away."
" We are going with the party to-day to
visit the top of Adrighoole," said Jane,
" and hope you will give us your assist¬
ance."
The girl willingly agreed to this propo¬
sal, and it was arranged that she should, in
about an hour, meet them at their friend's
house, to which they now returned.
At breakfast the young ladies related
their meeting with the blind old man and
his young grandniece, whose appearance
had much interested them. " I think I
know who they are," said the gentleman of
the house ; and from him they gathered a
few particulars which explained what seemed
strange in their adventure.
The O'Gara family was said to have been
a powerful sept in a neighboring county
before the English invasion ; and even after
that event did not decline so rapidly as the
old Milesian race in general had done, hut
retained a portion of their lands and of their
respectability until the time of the father
of the blind man, Randal, whom the cousins
so
GRACE O'GARA.
had met in their morning walk. Randal
had but one brother, who was his elder, and
who lived as his progenitors had long done,
that is, in idleness and amusement; trying
to continue some semblance of the rude
hospitality which had, for centuries, been
kept up in Ballymoreen Castle, and for
two- or tbree generations in a more humble
tenement erected near its ruins. Mean¬
while Randal was gratifying, to the best of
his ability, a desire for acquiring knowledge,
and some love of the fine arts, particularly
music, with which tastes he had been indued.
He was also an antiquarian, and delighted
in the legendary lore of his country; espe¬
cially such as was connected with the history
of the O'Gara family.
When the elder brother died, he left but
a small portion of the patrimony to his only
son, Grace's father, who had been brought
up in the same idle, useless habits, deeming
it beneath the dignity of their ancient race
to earn his bread. Distress at length
obliged him, when rather advanced in life,
to do what was considered almost as derog¬
atory to his ancestral greatness ; he married
THE MORNING WALK. 31
the daughter of a tradesman, who had some
money, and who was, moreover, a Protestant,
He died soon after, when Grace was an in¬
fant, leaving his old uncle Randal the rep¬
resentative of the family.
Affairs did not improve under Randal's
management; he, his nephew's wido.w, and
her little daughter Grace, were barely sup¬
ported by the few acres which remained of
former possessions about Bally moreen Cas¬
tle, imperfectly cultivated as they were
under the old man's superintendence. Of
this also they were, after a while, deprived.
The poor old uncle, whose sight had been
failing, became quite blind about two years
before our story commences. His attempts
at farming were now, of course, at an end;
the last remnant of the ancient patrimony
was sold ; and the family removed to a cot¬
tage near the foot of Adrighoole.
It had been the delight of Randal to in¬
struct his little niece, who inherited his own
desire for knowledge, and quickness in ac¬
quiring it. When his sight failed, she con¬
stantly read for him books that might have
been supposed far beyond the reach of one
32
GRACE O'GARA.
so young; but the effort to understand
them exercised and strengthened her mind.
She also read the Scriptures every evening
to her mother, which the uncle, now unable
to move about by himself, could not avoid
hearing. The consequence was that he be¬
came a Protestant. " But I know little
about them," continued the narrator ; " and
the peasants have no intercourse with them,
as even their high descent, so much thought
of in this country, cannot atone for their
apostasy, and they are anathematized by
the priest."
the ascent.
33
CHAPTER III.
the ascent.
When the party set out on their expedi¬
tion they found some of the neighboring
peasants ready to proffer their services as
guides. Among these was little Grace
O'Gara, who attached herself in that capac¬
ity to Miss Headley and her cousins. The
morning was bright, the air clear and balmy,
and everything seemed to promise well for
the success of their arduous undertaking
when they reached the base of Adrighoole,
and began to ascend its rugged sides.
"We shall have a glorious view of the
country, and of the ocean too, from the
summit, if we can only get there," said
Richard, when they had advanced a little
way up. " The atmosphere is remarkably
clear *jnd cloudless, except that little shad¬
ow to the north-west." As he made this
observation they saw the little guide shake
her head doubtfully.
34 GRACE O'GARA.
" What do you think of the day, my good
girl?" said Louisa, addressing her. " I
dare say you, are a judge of the weather,
and its rapid changes, 011 these heights."
Grace colored and replied: " I was only
thinking of something that I read to uncle
Randal this morning, Miss."
" Will you tell us what that was ?"
asked Jane ; " we can sit down on this rock
covered with its cushions of lichen while you
do so."
" It was only this, ma'am," Grace replied,
blushing again, and taking a small Bible
from her pocket. " What the young gen¬
tleman said reminded me of it;" and she
read aloud from, the eighteenth chapter of
the first hook of Kings: " Behold, there
ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a
man's hand. And he said, Go up, say unto
Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get thee
down, that the rain stop thee not. And it
came to pass in the mean while, that the
heaven was black with clouds and wind,
and there was a great rain."
"Well, child," said Richard, "do you
think that the little cloud which I have no-
THE ASCENT..
35
ticed yonder will bring such calamities?
Would you have us prepare our chariots and
get down ?"
" O no, sir," she answered; u but I have
sometimes seen clouds as small as that
grow big and black, till they darkened the
whole sky quite suddenly."
"Well, for fear of such a misfortune, we
had better go on to the muster place, and
see what we can while the sun shines."
This muster place was on the margin of a
lake more than half-way up the mountain
where the party had agreed to meet, and
take some refreshment, after having as¬
cended so far by various paths. Our three
young friends recommenced their walk.
Hitherto the task had been an easy one,
but by degrees difficulties increased. The
ascent became more steep, and the path
more rugged; nevertheless, the overcoming
of these various hindrances seemed but to
increase the enjoyment of the young peo¬
ple, while both minds and bodies were in¬
vigorated by the bracing air of those high
regions, and the fine views of land and
ocean that lay below them, so that they ar-
3
36 GRACE O'GARA.
rived in excellent spirits at the border of
the lake before any of their friends had
reached it. Having chosen a spot that
seemed best suited for taking their rural
repast, our three cousins seated themselves
to await the coming of their friends, and
made their little guide do the same.
" Of course you have some poetical quo¬
tation suitable to the scene, cousin," said
Jane to Bichard.
" Of course," he replied; " and you shall
have it:
' E'en now, where Alpine solitudes ascend,
We'll sit us down a pensive hour to spend ;
And placed on high above the storm's career,
Look down where sea, and land, and woods appear.'
And now, cousin Jane, I would address
what follows to you, while we, in our un¬
sophisticated simplicity, enjoy the scene :
' Say, should your philosophic mind disdain
The good which makes each humbler bosom vain ?'
I would reiterate that, in everything which
God has made so beautiful, his goodness is
as much indicated as his power. Should
not then his works ever remind us of that
attribute, encouraging us to think that he
THE ASCENT.
37
is more ready to pardon than to condemn ?
But perhaps your gloomy feelings last even¬
ing were but a passing cloud, which has flit¬
ted before the sunshine of to-day."
He looked at her, but the hilarity of her
countenance was gone, and it assumed a
thoughtful, or even sad expression, while
she said: " I think that I did not make my
thoughts quite clear to my dear cousins on
this subject. It is to me a solemn one ; but
I am unaccustomed to speak of it. I will
now only say, Bichard, that I quite agree
with you in thinking that the goodness, as
well as the power of our Creator, is mani¬
fested in whatever he has made. We may,
in observing them, see the truth of the
Psalmist's words: ' The Lord is good to all:
and his tender mercies are over all his
works.' But the more lovely the character
of God appears to us, surely the more must
we grieve for having offended him, and feel
uneasy about the result." .
Jane's voice faltered, and her cousins
thought that her eyes were suffused with
tears, as she turned them away to conceal
her emotion.
38
GRACE O'GARA.
"Forgive us, dear Jane. Though we
may not quite understand your feelings, you
may rest assured that we sympathize m
whatever distresses you," said Louisa, kindly
taking her hand ; while Richard added:
"Indeed we do. But do, Jane, get rid
of these feelings, which just arise from the
shock your nerves received at your friend's
death, causing things to seem dark which
in themselves are all light and beauty.
' It is the mind that gives its tone
To whatsoe'er we gaze upon.'
Banish these gloomy thoughts. And now,
Louisa, let us climb to the top of that rock,
and try if we can see any of the party com¬
ing. Jane had better rest here after her
unwonted exertions, and reserve her strength
for those which are to come."
When Jane had turned round her head
to elude the observation of her cousins, her
eyes fell upon the countenance of the little
guide, who was seated near enough to hear
the conversation; and it was evident that
she had done so, for her features wore a look
of surprise and interest.
" Did you understand what we have been
THE ASCENT.
39
saying, Grace?" said Miss Headley, as soon
as they were alone together.
"Well, ma'am, I understood this much,
at any rate, that you are not happy, and I
am very sorry for it. But then, ma'am, I
wonder why you are not so."
Jane smiled. " I suppose," she said, " you
think I ought to he happy because I am
a lady, and have, as you suppose, all the
comforts of this life."
" 0 no, ma'am ! I know that could not
make you happy, because our Saviour said,
'What is a man profited, if he shall gain
the whole world, and lose his own soul?'
But I thought you spoke as if you were one
who served and glorified God; and if you
did so, sure you would he happy."
" But I do not do so," exclaimed Jane.
" O no; I have hitherto been a lover of
pleasure more than a lover of God, and I
know what the consequence must he." But
recollecting that the excitement of her feel¬
ings was leading her to make rather a
strange confidant in the little mountain
guide, she added, in a calmer tone: " The
verse you have just repeated, my good girl,
40 GRACE 01GARA.
is an important one. The whole world is
nothing compared with the soul; and, truly,
we should do all we can that it may be
saved."
" Do all we can !" repeated Grace. " O
ma'am, are you a Roman Catholic?"
"No, indeed. Why should you think
so?"
" And are you a Protestant, and have you
a Bible?"
" Certainly, my -good girl; but why do
you ask these questions ?"
Grace seemed rather embarrassed, but
she replied, " Because, ma'am, you spoke of
our doing something to save our own souls,
and you know the Bible says we can do
nothing."
" Do nothing ?" repeated Jane.
" Yes, indeed, Miss," said the guide, again
drawing out the well-read book; " I hope
I'm not making too bold to read this: ' For
by grace are ye saved through faith ; and
that not of yourselves ; it is the gift of God:
not of works, lest any man should boast.' "
"0 1 know very well," said Jane, "that
no one could be saved without the help of
THE ASCENT,
41
the Lord Jesus Christ. But he willnot give
us that unless we try to deserve it, and obey
him and serve him."
Grace looked as if she were greatly puz¬
zled. After seeming to reflect for some
moments she said: " Uncle Bandal used to
talk just that way when he was a Roman
Catholic, and mother always answered him
out of the Bible. 0 please, ma'am, don't
say that the Lord Jesus will not give us his
help—that he will not save us entirely him¬
self, whatever sort we are. Sure you know,
ma'am, he came into the world to save sin¬
ners ; he came not ' to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance.' Now, ma'am,"
she continued, her eyes brightening, and
the color on her cheek deepening as she
spoke, " I hope your honor won't be offend¬
ed if I tell you a strange thing that hap¬
pened this morning."
" No, indeed," replied Jane, who became
more and more interested and surprised by
the conversation of the young mountaineer.
" Well, ma'am, when I told mother that
I was coming up the mountain with a party
of ladies and gentlemen, and that I was sor-
42
GRACE O'GARA.
rj to leave her—for dear mother is very
weak—she said: ' Don't fret, dear ; who
. knows hut God has some particular reason
for sending you to-day, and that he will do
good to some one by means of you ?' 1 Is
it of me, mother?' I said ; ' what could one
like me do?' 'Don't you remember,' says
she, ' how our Lord said, " Out of the mouth
of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected
praise?" If you are a little lamb of his
flock, my child, as I humbly hope, you might
be the means of leading some poor stray
sheep to the fold of the Good Shepherd,
where it would find peace and safety. And
now, Gracey,' says she, ' take this word in
your mind, arid don't be afraid to use it if
there is need: "This is a faithful saying,
and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners,"
and I will be praying for you here at home,
my child, that if you do, it may be a word in
season to some weary soul.' Now, indeed,
ma'am, I never thought of this when I re¬
peated this very verse for you, and that is
what I thought so strange."
Miss Headley remained silent for some
THE ASCENT.
43
time, and then asked abruptly, " Grace, are
you happy ?"
"To he sure I am, ma'am," she replied,
with a smile that quite verified her words.
" And what makes you so ?"
"Well, ma'am, I believe it is because
God is so good," she answered.
" Is it because of his goodness in making
this world so beautiful?" inquired Jane,
glancing, as she said it, down the steep side
of the mountain, where all was still bright,
though a scud of watery mist might still bo
seen flying off from the bank that lay to
seaward; while on the hill-top masses of
white cloud were now drifting like balls of
light fleecy wool, forming a striking spec¬
tacle to the unaccustomed eye.
" He did make it very beautiful, ma'am,"
replied Grace, also regarding, and evidently
admiring the wide prospect under its pres¬
ent appearance ; " but that is not the reason
why I think him so very good."
" Then what is the reason ?"
" Because he loves me, ma'am ; because
he loves pooT sinners so much as to give his
only begotten Son to die for them."
44
GRACE O'GARA.
" Ah, Grace, he loves you because you are
good, and love him."
The young guide again looked exceeding¬
ly surprised. " Mother always answers from
the Bible," she murmured in a low voice;
and then, addressing Jane, said, " O ma'am,
sure you must forget how it is written,
' There is none that doeth good, no, not one
and how the apostle John says, ' We love
him because he first loved us.' "
" And can he love me?" cried Jane, with
much emotion.
" He does, indeed he does, ma'am," the
little girl answered, again turning to John's
Epistle. " Just please listen to this, ma'am ;
' God is love. In this was manifested
the love of God toward us, because that
God sent his only begotten Son into the
world, that we might live through him.'
You" see, 4 God is love,' ma'am. Uncle
Randal says that since he knew this he is
happy."
" ' God is love,' " repeated Miss Headley ;
and after a while added: " How pleasant it
is to speak freely about these things. I do
believe this little girl understands my feel-
THE ASCENT.
45
ings better than any one. I wish I knew
people that I could open my mind to; but
I am all alone."
Her countenance plainly indicated mel¬
ancholy thoughts, which her young attendan t
at once perceived. Looking at her with an
expression of great sympathy, she said:
" May be, ma'am, I might sing a pretty
little verse for you that mother taught me?
You were pleased to say that you liked my
singing this morning."
" Indeed you may, and I shall be very
much obliged to you, Grace."
The songstress commenced:
" And hast thou then His love forgot,
Who form'd thy frame and fix'd thy lot;
Who laid his Son within the grave,
Thy soul from endless death to save;
And gave his Spirit to console,
And make thy wounded spirit whole?
Each fluttering hope, each anxious fear,
Each lonely sigh, each silent tear,
To thine Almighty Friend are known,
And sayst thou, thou art all alone ?"
Our readers have probably discovered,
before now, that Jane Headley was of an
excitable temperament. Her thoughts and
46
GRACE O'GARA.
feelings had, for some time, been much en¬
gaged by the subjects the little guide had
now touched on ; and taking the romantic
scenery, and the peculiar circumstances
under which she had listened to them,
together with Grace's fine voice, responded to
as it was by the mountain echoes, taking all
these things into consideration, it will not
seem strange that she was powerfully
affected, and that her tears flowed fast
while she listened to the • song. Still it
was not that she was unhappy. The words,
"God is love," were in her mind, and seem¬
ed to convey some new idea of his character
which imparted to it. peace, and even joy.
Footsteps were heard approaching, and she
had but time to wipe her eyes when her
cousins returned.
" All our friends are coming, Jane," said
Louisa.
" Yes, and so is the basket of provisions,"
cried Kichard, " at which I sincerely rejoice.
But see, how quickly the little cloud, ' no
bigger than a man's hand,' has expanded
over our heads, increasing in blackness as
well as in size. I do believe we shall have
THE ASCENT.
47
to 'prepare our chariots and go down,' ac¬
cording lo the suggestion of this little
prophetess, Grace O'Gara."
But this irotion was opposed by the rest
of the party, who had now joined them, and
who declared that there was no danger of
rain, and that, since they had come so far,
they would get to the summit of the mount¬
ain. While the company partook of their
rural repast the mist became thicker, so
that very little could now be seen beyond the
place where they were seated. However,
what they lost by this circumstance, in the
sense of seeing, was made up in the sense
of hearing. It has been remarked that
fog greatly increases the power of sound ;
and when a trumpet was blown, or a gun
fired, the noise was reverberated by innu¬
merable mountain echoes, some of them at
so great a distance that several minutes
after it seemed as if all had died away
into silence, a soft, low repetition of the
sound would he heard from a rock at the
opposite side of the lake ; then another, and
another still fainter, till the last lingering
note had expired.
48
GRACE O'GARA.
Preparations were now made for proceed¬
ing, and consultations held with the guides as
to the safety of continuing to ascend while
the mountain was covered with so thick a mist.
They were unanimously of opinion that it
might be attempted without danger, except
little Grace, who remained silent, hut look¬
ed as if she did not approve of what they
said. When Jane appealed to her in a low
voice, she replied: "It is very unsafe to go
on, ma'am ; we shall lose our way. Even
to get down will be hard work enough in a
fog like this."
" Then why dd the guides say otherwise ?"
inquired Jane. Grace not answering the
question, it was repeated, and she then
said, " I must not tell, because it is com¬
manded us 4 to speak evil of no man.' "
" Ah! I perceive. It is their interest to
carry us as far as they can, and be paid
accordingly."
Jane then communicated her suspicions
to her cousins, entreating them to be guided
in this matter by little Grace.
One of the men who had been observing
this conference, and guessed its import, ad-
THE ASCENT.
49
vanced, and with a countenance and man¬
ner in which were blended a strange mix¬
ture of anger and drollery, addressed Bich-
ard in his native language, in a rather long
hut rapid harangue.
" Pray what has he been saying ?" said
Jane, when his speech was ended.
" He charged us," replied Bichard, " not
to mind the advice of Grace, or that we
shall indubitably go astray. The O'Garas
have, he assures me, been themselves under
the influence of the good people, that is, the
phooca, or faries, from time immemorial,
and have ever been misled by them, till
they came fo utter ruin by apostatizing
from the faith of their fathers, and becoming
a by-word throughout the whole country.
He tells me, moreover, that until the last
two. years, when the O'Garas came to reside
here, the faries of this mountain had been
quite a harmless race, and lived not only an
innocent, but as he 'describes it, a most
poetical life, riding upon the moon-beams,
sleeping in summer in the purple bells of
the foxglove or the wild campanula, drink¬
ing dew out of acorn cups, and dancing in
50 GRACE O'GARA.
the old fort on the green hill-side. Now it
is all changed. The farmer for whom he
works, and who lives close to the O'Garas,
is a martyr to their mischievous tricks."
" Did your informant recite any in¬
stances?" inquired Jane. " I do so like to
hear these old popular superstitions."
"Yes; my informant, Jack Doolan, as¬
sures me, that although he watched his
master's cows closely on a season when
fairy influence is particularly to he guarded
against; although he abstained, for that
purpose, from the festivities held at the
cross-roads, when the May-bush was erect¬
ed, some malevolent being must have got
at these same cows and milked them; in
consequence of which, according to popular
belief, there will always be a poor account
of the butter during the year. In vain, has
the farmer's wife tried to do away the
effects of the charm by sometimes putting a
coal of fire and a little salt under the
churn, or nailing the old shoe of a donkey
to the bottom of the churn -dash ; the affairs
of the dairy do not prosper, and the vicinity
of the poor O'Garas is blamed for it all.
THE ASCENT.
51
Jack's object in being thus communicative
was to prevent our returning, according to
the advice which he suspected Grace was
giving us, and which he declares she only
gave out of dislike to him and the other
guides, because they are Roman Catholics,
to prevent their earning as much money
from us as they might otherwise do."
Grace, who had hitherto listened quietly,
now turned toward the guide, and though
her color was heightened, her eyes wore
their usual mild expression, while she
said: "O Jack Doolan, how could you say
that of me? Don't you know very well
that I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head ?
Sure the book I go by, God's own word,
tells me not to return ' evil for evil, nor rail¬
ing for railing, but contrariwise blessing.' "
At this appeal Jack's countenance relax¬
ed. " Well," he said, speaking in English,
" let the priest say what he will, you are, I
do think, a good little girl, and I never will
forget the help you give me sometimes to
drive home the master's cows and sheep
when they run astray on the mountains.
'Tis onlv that old turncoat uncle of yours
4
52
GRACE O'GARA.
that is so wicked ; and when he dies, as ho
soon will, to my certain knowledge, you'll
come back to the old way again, and be
what the O'Garas always were."
Grace looked frightened at the prediction
of her uncle's death, and exclaimed, " 0 tell
me, do tell me why you think Uncle Randal
will die soon."
" I have heard the Banshee that always
mourns for the real old stock,0 and that the
O'Garas are, nobody can doubt. I was pass¬
ing down through the trees near your house
the other evening, in my way to the glen,
and I thought I heard steps not far off, and,
as it was late, I wondered who could be out
there. All at once there came such a song
from the little grove by the stream as no
living creature ever sang. I knew at once
what it was, and frightened enough I felt,
for I often heard tell how the Banshee used
to cry in the bawnef at Bally moreen, before
any of the family died, so I went away a
fast as I could."
o i< por high Milesian race alone,
Ever flows the music of her woe."—Mangan.
f Inclosure round an old castle.
THE ASCENT.
53
"Ah, Jack !" Grace replied, " if you would
but let me read my good book for you—
God's book—you would see that no one but
God knows what time we are to die. It is
said in the Psalms, ' Unto God the Lord
belong the issues from death.' And, Jack,
if you bad waited a little while, you would
have found out it was only I that was sing¬
ing a little song which uncle Randal likes.
Mother was asleep, and for fear of waking
her I led him out by the light of the stars
to where the stream falls into the glen, to
sing it for him."
Our young friends were greatly amused
by this colloquy, particularly Richard, who
said, " Well, my pretty little Banshee, let
us hear it now, with such accompaniments
as the ripple of this stream and the mount¬
ain echoes may afford, before the company
begins to move again." This request meet¬
ing with general approval, the little girl
complied, and sang:
" 0 living, living water,
So busy and so bright,
Up-flashing in the morning beam,
And sounding through the night.
GRACE O'GARA.
0 golden-shining water,
Would God that I might be
A vocal message from his mouth
Into the world, like thee.
, "No foul thing can defile theo;
Thou castest all aside,
Like a good heart that 'midst the ill
Of this world doth abide.
0 living, living water,
Still fresh, and bright, and free,
God lead us through this changing world,
Forever pure like thee."
the descent.
CHAPTER IV.
the descent.
It was now necessary to proceed, and the
party, influenced by a slight opening in the
mist overhead, and by the reiterated assur¬
ance of the guides, except Grace, that it
would soon disperse, agreed to prosecute
their original intention of visiting the top
of the mountain. When the little girl was
questioned, she still maintained that the fog
was likely to increase, and so render it im¬
possible that they could find their way.
But we are apt to believe what we wish
should be true; the opinion given by her
elders was acted on, and the up-hill journey
recommenced. Appearances grew more
and more unpropitious. The company were
soon obliged, by the increasing darkness,
and the difficulty of the way, to divide into
small parties; and the three cousins, with
Grace, still remained together. Their way
Jbecame steeper and more intricate as the
56 GRACE O'GARA.
fog thickened. On every side was a dark,
gray chaos, which the eye could not pene¬
trate, and which had a spectral-like effect
on the objects nearest to them. A rock,
looming a few yards in the distance, looked
like a castle; a thistle, like a tree, bending
and shaking in the wind; so deceptive is
the effect of this misty phenomenon.
" I cannot undertake to guide you any
longer, sir/' said Grace, addressing Eichard.
" It will he well if we can find our way-
down now before the fog spreads on the
lower part of the mountain."
" And even if we could reach the summit
we could see nothing from it," he replied,
perceiving that their situation was a little
critical, hut wishing to let the young ladies
think he had a reason for .consenting to re¬
turn which need not alarm them. " Shall
we retrace our steps," he continued, "and
try to gain the plain before we are quite
shrouded in the thick blackness which is, I
see, rapidly descending?"
The proposal was at once acceded to, hut
could not so readily bo put into practice.
Their downward path, now but imperfectly
THE DESCENT.
57
to be seen, proved far more difficult than
the upward, and various disasters ensued.
At one time the way was covered with a
bright red moss, which looked as if its soft¬
ness and elasticity would be refreshing to
their weary feet; but when they trod on it
they sank above the ankles in water. Then
the descent would be so steep that they
would have to slide instead of to walk down
it; and, worst of all, their race with the
mountain mist was likely to prove vain, as
its thickness increased every moment. The
little guide was all activity; she helped
Richard to get the ladies out of the water
and down the ledges of rocks which so fre¬
quently impeded the way ; but whenever
they could see her face distinctly, they ob¬
served that she looked very grave.
" Is there any danger, Grace ?" inquired
Jane.
"The air is growing very hot, ma'am,"
was the rather ambiguous answer.
"And what does that portend?"
" Thunder, ma'am, Uncle Randal always
says; and sure enough, there is the first
distant peal."
58
GRACE O'GARA.
Even Richard now looked alarmed. "Do
you know where we are, Grace ?" he asked.
" No, sir."
"Well, then, let us get down this cliff;
we shall find shelter below from the storm
which is coming on."
With much difficulty this feat, which their
guide did not seem to approve, was accom¬
plished ; they reached a flat place which,
after such examination as circumstances
would allow, appeared to be only the top of
another cliff, so steep that to go down it
was impossible, while it was equally so to
return by that which they had just de¬
scended.
" We are clifted," exclaimed Richard.
" We must remain here till the fog is over,
perhaps all night. 0 that I had followed
Grace's advice in time! It will kill you,
Jane; you are unused to such adventures.
O that you were safe with your father!"
" And sure so she is, sir," said the little
guide, with great composure. " Is not God
our Father ? and not a hair of our heads can
fall to the ground without his leave."
Lightning now flashed over, and for a
THE DESCENT.
59
moment illumined the desolate spot upon
which they were standing. A peal of thun¬
der quickly followed, reverberated by the
surrounding echoes with an effect so tre¬
mendous that it seemed as though " the
everlasting mountains were scattered, and
the perpetual hills did how." Brief as was
the flash, it had discovered to Bichard a re¬
cess in the rock close by, covered by a pro¬
jection overhead, which offered shelter from
the gusts of wind that occasionally swept
along with great force, and from the heavy
rain that usually accompanies thunder¬
storms. In this he placed the terrified fe¬
males, for even Grace trembled, as Jane,
who held her arm fast, soon perceived.
" O Grace!" she cried, when some feel¬
ing of security, arising from the compara¬
tive safety of their new situation, enabled
her to speak; " 0 Grace, we must be in
great danger, for you too are frightened."
" I am, ma'am," replied the little guide,
" and more shame for me. If poor mother,
weak and sick as she is, was here, she would
not be frightened."
"And why would she not?" asked Jane.
60
GRACE O'GARA.
" Well, ma'am, I think it must be because
she loves God so much, and that she knows
he is always near her. Whatever the
trouble is, this keeps her mind quiet. She
says that since he gave his Son to die for
her, she may be sure he will do everything
that is good and kind for her, and that the
Bible says so too". When we were leaving
the old place at Bally moreen, and I was
crying, and Uncle Randal was crying, and
so were the neighbors that were all gathered
about us, she was as quiet as ever. ' I won¬
der you are not in more grief, Mrs. O'Gara,'
says a woman that was there ; and I heard
mother say, ' It is God's doing, Mary, and
it must be right, for God is love.'"
" God is love!" repeated Miss Headley
in a low voice. " This is the second time
to-day," she thought, " that these words
have calmed my mind. Surely to believe,
to feel that they are true, must be the
secret of true happiness."
Another flash and another peal broke
through the darkness and stillness of their
place of refuge. Then ensued a heavy
shower of rain, from which the shelter-
THE DESCENT.
61
ing rock above in a great measure pro¬
tected the little party. When its violence
abated, a council was held as to the best
plan to pursue. To try and obtain assist¬
ance, by means of which the two young
ladies could be got up the steep cliff they
had come down, was suggested-. Por this
purpose either Eichard or Grace should at¬
tempt the ascent, which evidently was haz¬
ardous. The young guide insisted on having
this office assigned to her, because she was
an expert climber, well accustomed to the
mountain sides, and likewise because she
would be more likely than the gentleman
to discover her way through the mist,
and would best know where to look for
help.
She succeeded in her desire, and the rain
being now over, set out on her difficult mis¬
sion ; for difficult, and dangerous also, even
the first efforts proved it was likely to be.
This was to get her up the steep slippery
rock by which they had come down, and it
required all Eichard's strength, aided by
her own agility, to effect it. "How you
both are ever to be got up I know not," he
62
GRACE O'GARA.
said, in a desponding tone, when he re¬
turned to his sister and cousin.
" It would he impossible while the fog
lasts," said Louisa, sobbing, " and who can
tell how long that may be? O what will
become of us? Jane, how is it that you
are not more frightened ? You, so delicate,
and so unaccustomed to adventures * like
this. Your composure surprises me."
" And me too," added Bichard; " will
you tell us the secret of it, cousin ?"
" I will," she answered; " I believe it
arises from a thought suggested by our
little guide, that ' God is loveand if we
are in the hand of One who loves us, we
ought not to be afraid."
" Of course I know that; still I cannot
help being afraid," said Louisa. " Besides,
Jane, God can love only those who are very
good."
" So I thought until to-day," replied
Jane; "hut now I wonder that I did so,
for this strange little girl, as she certainly
is, has made me remember that the con¬
trary is, over and over, affirmed in Scrip¬
ture."
THE DESCENT.
63
" Witli some qualification I should think,
cousin," observed Richard.
" No, Richard, I do believe not. I know
hut little, far too little, of the Bible; and even
when that memorable circumstance of which
I told you yesterday led my mind to these
subjects, and perplexed it, I sought by
reasoning to solve difficulties, instead of
going to that book which, I now perceive,
can alone do so. Little as I know of it, I
have just remembered one sentence which
would seem to apply to your remark,
Eichard; ' God, who is rich in mercy, for
his great love wherewith he loved us,
even when we were dead in sins, hath
quickened us together with Christ.' Is not
this unqualified love, cousin ?"
" And would you apply this strong lan¬
guage, ' dead in sins,' to your own case ?" "
inquired Eichard, without answering her
question.
" Well, I do believe, I do feel that I may
with truth, though the language is strong,"
she replied. "And can you wonder that
such a belief should influence my mind?
Ought it not to make a far greater impres-
64
GRACE O'GARA.
sion on it than it has actually done? It
surely is a fearful thought."
" Jane, beware of religious enthusiasm,"
said Eichard.
44 What is enthusiasm ?" she asked. It
cannot mean zeal in a right cause, for you
know it 4 is good to be zealously affected
always in a good thing.'"
" Again asking for definitions!" her
cousin answered. " Well, I can give you
one. 4 Enthusiasm is heat without light; or
the movement of the passions in a degree
disproportionate to the illumination of the
mind, or to the magnitude of the subject
which it contemplates.'"
44 May I find that illumination in the
Bible?" said Jane. 44 The subject we refer
to is the greatest that could be found."
44 It certainly is," he replied; 44 but have
we. not chosen a strange place for a theo¬
logical discussion ? However, we shall have
leisure enough to carry it on. Although
the thunder-storm is over, there is no ap¬
pearance of any clearing in the atmosphere ;
and even should our little guide find her
way through the mist to human habitations,
THE DESCENT. G5
which is more than I expect, it will prob¬
ably be some hours before she can reach us
with the help necessary for our proceeding."
This was, indeed, a dismal prospect; and
in the contemplation of it the three young
friends remained silent for a long time, still
seated in the niche where they had taken
rfefuge from the storm. They also felt much
uneasiness about the others of their party,
knowing the probability of their now being
in as great a difficulty as themselves ; or
perhaps a worse, if they persevered in their
attempt to reach the mountain-top.
" Poor papa!" said Louisa, " he will
catch cold, and get his cough again, even
if they all get safe down. .
" And my dear mother!" exclaimed
Bichard, " how glad I am that, she remained
at home; but I fear she will suffer much
anxiety about us, knowing the danger of
clambering the sides of these mountains
when they are shrouded in mist."
Jane could fully sympathize in her young
friends' feelings, having witnessed the affec¬
tionate intimacy that existed between them
and their parents. Her only near relative
66
GRACE O'GARA.
was her father, who, though fond of her,
was so absorbed by extensive mercantile
concerns that she had, when at home, but
little of his society; nor had she that of any
other person possessing a mind congenial
to her own. This circumstance, though not
a pleasant, was perhaps a beneficial one, as
it led her to a good deal of thought, and,
like the Psalmist, to commune with her
own heart, and with her spirit make dili¬
gent search concerning whatever she heard
or read. When with her cousins, to whom
she was much attached, it was great pleasure
to open her little stores of thought un¬
reservedly.
The cousins continued their musings in
silence, broken only occasionally by Louisa,
who would exclaim, " 0 what will become
of us ? what can we do ?" till Bichard said
impatiently, " You can do nothing but stay
quiet. Do not expect help for hours, if we
get it then."
While he was speaking they heard foot¬
steps approaching, not above nor below, but
on the very platform where they were
seated ; and then the voice of Grace O'Gara,
THE DESCENT. 67
calling out in a joyous tone, " Good
news, dear young ladies; all will be well
directly."
"Grace, and by herself!" exclaimed
Richard. " How is it possible that you got
down, or how will you get us up ?"
The little guide replied to-this question,
that when at the top of the cliff she had
proceeded cautiously, always trying to keep
the downward direction, till she began
to think the way was familiar to her, as
well as she could see and feel it; at last
the tinkling of bells met her ear, and never
Avas the sound of the sweetest music more
delightful. " I knew at once," she said,
" that the bells belonged to farmer Leahy's
sheep that Jack Doolan takes care of, and
1 knew where I was, and where you were
too; for I remember this rock, and how I
often came here to gather Avhortle-berries,
and that there is an easy sloping passage
to get down here. So I came back, leaving
marks all along that AAre may find our way
to the sheep. I will drive them on, which
will be doing a good turn for Jack; and
we have only to follow them, as, no doubt,
5
68
GRACE O'GARA.
they will go the right way down the
mountain to their own place, and from'that
we can easily go on to Uncle Eandal's
house."
The pleasure with which this intelligence
was received may be imagined ; and Grace's
plan was immediately put into execution.
The difficulties that still made the progress of
our young people slow were counted as noth¬
ing compared with those they had already
encountered; and, under the guidance of
farmer Leahy's sheep, they reached, at a
late hour in the evening, the level ground.
Grace's earnest request that they should
go to her cottage to dry their wet feet and
to rest themselves, was also acceded to.
They proceeded cautiously; Jane clinging
with both hands to Grace's arm, while
Eichard assisted his sister to follow.
" Do you know, my good little girl,"
said Jane in a low voice to her guide, " that
when we were following farmer Leahy's
sheep down the mountain, and now too that
you are leading me to a place of safety,
your mother's words to you have been
greatly in my mind? Did she not say,
THE DESCENT.
69
this morning, that you might "be the means
of leading some poor stray sheep to the
fold of the Good Shepherd ?"
" So she did, ma'am," Grace replied;
" but it was not bringing them safe down
the mountain-side, nor taking them to the
house she meant,* though she'd be glad to
ha.ve me do that too."
" I think I know what she meant," an¬
swered Jane, " and perhaps ber kind wishes
on the subject may be answered."
70
grace o'gaka.
CHAPTER Y.
the cottage.
Our party arrived safely at the humble
dwelling of the last of the O'Garas, where
Grace introduced them to her mother and
her grand-uncle, by giving a short account
of their adventures on the mountain, and of
their present necessities. It is needless to
say that they were received with hospitality,
which never fails to welcome the stranger to
the house of a genuine Irishman. Old
Randal, having first made his formal, and
not undignified how, seemed to devote every
energy of his body and mind to the office
of promoting their comfort; and so, but in
a quieter way, did Mrs. O'Gara, a neat-
looking little woman, with a very gentle
expression of countenance, and a delicacy
of complexion denoting decayed health,
which the hollow sound of a frequent cough
confirmed. She soon brought forth a few
garments, seemingly the remains of a bet-
THE LITTLE GUIDE'S HOME.
THE COTTAGE.
73
ter furnished wardrobe than she possessed
at present. These the young ladies put on,
while their own were placed to dry before
the fire, on which the blind old man heaped
turf and hog-wood. Then the small, light
figure of Mrs. O'Gara was seen gliding
about, quietly preparing such provisions
as her scanty stock afforded for the refresh¬
ment of her weary guests.
Blended with the appearance of poverty
which everything presented, there was ever
some vestige of better days to be discovered.
To a feeling mind there is always some de¬
gree of interest attending the decay of
whatever hears the impress of former
greatness. This the young people expe¬
rienced when, amid the pine furniture
they noticed an old-fashioned bureau of
mahogany, handsomely carved, on the top
of which stood a small book-ca^e. Then,
when the meal appeared, which consisted of
tea, eggs, and a hot cake Grace had made
and baked on the griddle in a very short
space of tim*, they perceived that some of
the spoons w«_-re of silver, and_ the handles
engraven with the O'Gara's crest.
74
GRACE O'GARA.
" I wisli we liad something more fit for
the like of you, ladies," said Grace's moth¬
er, as her guests seated themselves round
the table, at which, however, they re¬
fused to partake of anything unless their
hospitable entertainers shared it with
them.
"I wish we had," repeated the old man ;
" but the times are changed since the
cellars of Ballymoreen Castle were filled
with good wine, and the larder with good
cheer."
His young guests assured him that
there was nothing they could relish so
much, or find so refreshing, under present
circumstances, as tea. Still he looked un¬
easy, and as if he were becoming excited by
this allusion to days long past, when his
nephew's widow said: " Is not God very
good to leave us as much as this, Uncle
Randal ^ And sure, sir, we won't partake
of it till we thank him."
" True, true, niece," cried the old man ;
" 0 how apt I ara_to forget him !"
He then offered up a simple thanksgiving,
and when it was ended Grace sang the fol-
THE COTTAGE.
75
lowing stanza, in which his voice, evidently
once a fine one, joined :
" The tender mercy of our Lord,
And wonders of his grace,
The loving kindness of his word
We every moment trace.
Our bread is given, our water sure,
Body and soul sustained;
0 may we to the end endure,
Till heaven itself is gained."
There was something in this mode of
returning thanks, (differing, as it did, from
that which is usual, and which, alas ! too
often seems nothing more than mere form,)
that appeared solemn and striking to the
young people, but especially to Jane Head-
ley in the present state of her thoughts
and feelings. Richard Moore looked with
much interest at the blind old representa¬
tive of a fallen race, to whose marked and
intelligent features this little devotional
exercise seemed to have restored their
wonted placidity. For the purpose of en¬
gaging him in conversation he made some
remark on the wild beauty of the surround¬
ing scenery.
" It is fine, sir," replied O'G-ara ; " I re-
76 GRACE O'GARA.
member it well, for I often visited it when I
was able to see it: but that is not the
reason why I settled here when we left the
old place, the home of my fathers. A
foolish reason I had for coming, no doubt,"
he continued, with a smile ; " and as I have
done now with all that sort of thing, I may
tell it you."
Richard declared that he should be very
glad to hear it, and O'Gara continued.
"There is a tradition in our family, Mr.
Moore, I remember it as long as I remem¬
ber anything, that one time when BaljLymo-
reen Castle was full of company, (the O'Sul-
livan Beare, and other great people, were
entertained there in those days,) a traveler
called, and teing invited to supper, hg
stayed, but scarcely spoke during the meal.
He stood up when it was over, and address¬
ing my ancestor, said: ' I am sorry to be
the messenger of evil to the O'Garas, but
I am sent to tell them, that in the time of
the seventh generation from yourself this
castle, and the last bit of the family prop¬
erty, will pass away from them.' He then
departed, and they saw him no more.
THE COTTAGE.
77
There was deep silence in the hall for some
time, when the old harper took his instru¬
ment and sang some verses in Irish. The
only scholar present was a priest, and he
wrote them down. They were preserved
carefully in the family, and I have them
locked up iii that bureau. I translated
them into English long ago."
" Do, please, let us hear them, Mr.
O'Gara," exclaimed his guests; and he
complied, repeating as follows :
" When nettles grow around the hearth,
And towers that now so stately stand,
In scattered fragments strew the earth,
And Saxon strangers own the land,
To Adrighoole's sea-beaten coast,
Then let O'Gara's son repair;
Wealth, far beyond what he has lost,
And joy shall be restored him there."
There was enough of romance in this
story, and in the poetical prediction, great¬
ly to interest Bandal's young auditors, and
he seemed gratified to find that it did so.
" But you must think me very foolish to
he influenced by anolcl song," he contiuued ;
" and so I was, no doubt. However, I never
gave in to the superstitions of the country
78 GRACE O'GARA.
people; 110, I had read too much for that
drawing himself up at this allusion to his
condition. " Still, in the bitterness of my
grief for leaving the old place, is it any
wonder, sir, that I would not neglect the
slightest chance of getting it back again ?
Then the religion I was brought up in is
one that would cherish all superstitious
feelings."
"You were a Roman Catholic, I believe,
sir," said Richard. " If the question be not
an improper one, I should like to know
what led you to renounce the ancient faith
of your family ?"
" And to embrace a more ancient faith,
Mr. Moore," replied O'Gara. " It was the
Bible, sir, and nothing else. When we came
here Grace used to read out to me a great
deal the books I could no longer read my¬
self. Her mother would sit by while we
were going on with history, and travels, and
books of science, too, sir, that she knew
nothing about, though Gracey was up to a
good deal of it, for sHe has- a real turn for
such things, and I taught her while I was
able.
THE COTTAGE.
79
" Well, my niece Mary, there, bore" this
so patiently, though she must have been
tired of it often and often, that when she
said to me one evening, ' Uncle Eandal, the
weather is so cold now that I am afraid of
the cough to sit in my own room while the
little girl reads for me; would you please
to let her do it here?' I had it not in my
heart to refuse her. I determined, however,
not to listen to one word, for I always heard
what a had hook the Protestant Bible was,
and how it made people turn to be Protest¬
ants.
" Well, sir, it was hut a short time I kept
this resolution. Somehow I could not help
listening"; and the more I listened the bet¬
ter I liked it. I should be all nightatelling
you how I saw plainly from it, one by one,
that the various things I had been trusting
to for salvation were just lying vanities, and
nothing else. I will only mention that from
the time I heard the words, ' God is a Spirit,
and they that worship him must worship
him in spirit and in truth,' I began to see
that repeating prayers over and over, as a
matter of task-work, was not worship. Then
80
GRACE O'GARA.
what followed, sir? Why, this: it was as
plain as the demonstration of any theorem
in Euclid, that I had never yet prayed. This,
and many other things which I had learned
out of that wonderful hook, weighed heav¬
ily on my heart. I tried to banish such
thoughts ; but it would not do. They were
reading the writings of the prophet Jere¬
miah lately for me, Mr. Moore, and some
of his sayings reminded me of my own state
at that time. ' Is not my word like as a
fire ? saith the Lord ; and like a hammer
that breaketh the rock in pieces?' 'His
word was in mine heart as a burning fire
O
shut up in my bones, and I was weary with
forbearing, and I could not stay.' So I
told ]\|ary here all about it. 0 how my
pride came down, for me to go and ask in¬
struction from her that I used to despise be¬
cause she knew nothing of any book except
her Bible. Didn't it, Mary ?"
"Yes, Uncle Bandal," Mrs. O'Gara re¬
plied. " But sure that was no wonder ; for
don't you remember how Sfc Paul says that
the Gospel is ' mighty through God to the
pulling down of strongholds ; casting down
THE COTTAGE.
81
imaginations, and every high thing that ex-
alteth itself against the knowledge of God,
and bringing into captivity every thought
to the obedience of Christ ?' "
" 1 do, Mary, dear; and true enough it
was for him. 0 my dear young gentleman,
God dealt very graciously with me, even
when he took away my sight'; for if he had
left it to me, I should not have been obliged
to sit listening to his word, and the mind
would have been dark stfll. For that mat¬
ter, it is little more than a dawning of light
that is on it yet; for, proud as I used to he
of human knowledge, I know that in better
things I am only a poor ignorant old man."
He sighed heavily on saying this, and
Grace, taking his hand, observed, " But,
Uncle Randal, don't you remember how
happy you were the other day, when mother
told you that what you saw through the
darkness was surely a dawning of that
* light that shineth more and more unto the
perfect day ?'"
" I do, darling, I do," cried the old man,
laying his hand on her head, and stroking
her flaxen curls,*" and I pray to God, as
82
GRACE O'GARA.
king David did, ' Open thou mine eyes, that
I may behold wondrous things out of thy
law.' And, Gracey, don't you remember
that fine prayer of St. Paul's, that is, I
think, for such as me? Let these ladies
and the gentleman hear it."
Grace's little pocket Bible was immedi¬
ately produced, and she read from the
Epistle to the'Ephesjans, i. 18, 19, "That
the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father
of glory, may giv# unto you the spirit of
wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of
him : the eyes of your understanding being
enlightened; that ye may know what is the
hope of his calling, and what the riches of
the glory of his inheritance in the saints."
Jane Headley had listened with such in¬
terest to this conversation, and particularly
to the passage from the word of God which
had just been quoted, that of her it might
truly he said,
" Some chord in unison with what she heard
Was touched within her, and the heart replied."
"Out,of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh," and almost unconsciously
Jane exclaimed : " Surely*such a prayer as
TIIE COTTAGE.
83
that is applicable to'us all; at least I know
it is to me, though I have been reared a
Protestant."
She colored, and glanced timidly toward
her cousins, expecting some appearance of
good-humored derision.on their countenances
at what they might deem a hurst of undue
enthusiasm. But they looked quite grave ;
and no one replied except Mrs. O'Gara, who
said, in her quiet simple manner:
" To he sure it is, dear young lady, a
prayer that is very fit to be used for us all;
because you know, madam, St. Paul himself
tells us ' the natural man receiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God ; for they are
foolishness unto him: neither can he know
them, because they are spiritually dis¬
cerned.' "
But Jane did not know that the apostle
had left on record this important truth; at
least, though she might have heard or read
it, she had not attached any meaning to the
words. They were now hoarded in her
mind, with other things which she had
learned that day, and which she intended
to ponder over in her heart.
84
GRACE O'GARA.
While the cousins had been entertained
at the humble but hospitable board of
O'Gara, a favorable change' took place in
the weather. - The mist had been gradually
dispelling, and now a slanting beam of the
evening sun occasionally glimmered, though,
faintly, on the tops of the arbutus trees that
grew wild outside the cottage. Anxiety
about the remainder of the party made them
desirous of proceeding at once to the house
of their friend who was to accommodato
them that night; but when Jane and Louisa
prepared to put on again the garments which
had been carefully duied by little Grace, the
former looked and seemed so fatigued, that
she was evidently unequal to the walk.
It was then arranged that Eichard should
go without them, and return as soon as
possible, bringing some mode of convey¬
ance for the young ladies to accompany him
back.
After his departure old Eandal opened
his hook-case, and, not without some appear¬
ance of pride in the display of these, his
only earthly treasures, requested his guests
to look over the books, and see if there were
THE COTTAGE.
85
any sufficiently worthy of their notice to
amuse them until the gentleman returned.
There were, he said, some Trench works
among them, for he had once been intended
for a priest, and studied for a while at St.
Omer's, where he learned that language.
Miss Moore, partly from a desire to gratify
the old man, and partly to gratify her
own literary taste, examined his small li¬
brary, conversing with him about its con¬
tents.
Mrs. O'Gara was seated in an old arm¬
chair, with its long, upright hack, that had
been brought from Ballymoreen, a memento
of better days. She looked greatly ex¬
hausted, breathed with apparent difficulty,
and her pale cheek was tinged with a hectic
flush. Jane sat down near her, and said:
" We are grateful for your kindness, Mrs.
O'Gara, hut I am afraid you have fatigued
yourself too much by your exertions to make
us comfortable."
" O no, ma'am," replied their hostess;
" I wish I could do more for you. I get
oppressed this way every evening for a
while."
6
86
GRACE O'GARA.
" And have you had medical advice con¬
cerning your health ?"
" There is no occasion, ma'am," was the
reply, at which Jane shook her head.
"Grace, darling," said the sick woman;
" don't forget to feed the fowland when
her daughter went out to do so, she contin¬
ued : " No, ma'am ; there is no occasion for
advice now. I didn't like to say it before
my little girl, though she must learn it be¬
fore long. My complaint could not he
cured by any earthly physician. I know
that well, for my two sisters and a brother
died of it; and the Lord is going to call
me away very soon now."
Jane's eyes filled with tears. "Do not
say so, Mrs. O'Gara," she cried. " I know
you have great faith ; trust in God that he
will spare you to your little girl."
" I believe I have faith, ma'am," replied
the invalid, in her usual gentle manner. " I
have faith, but not of myself, it is His gift
who has given me everything, and without it
I don't think I could ever bear the thought
of leaving Grace alone in the worlcl, as she
soon will be; for the poor uncle cannot live
THE COTTAGE.
87
long. Biit, my dear young lady, I would
humbly say, it seems to me that having
faith is just to believe every single thing
that God has told us in the Bible, and that
he will fulfill every one of his promises—
' exceeding great and precious promises'
they are, as St. Peter calls them."
. This simple definition of a term about
which there has been controversy among the
wise and learned, struck Jane much; and
she was considering it, when Mrs. O'Gara
continued, " Now, you know, ma'am, God
has not promised anywhere that he will
restore my health, so I cannot tell whether
he will or not; and he gives me reason to
suppose that he will not. But blessed be
his name, he has promised things a thousand
times better, and one of them is, that he
will take care of Grace."
" How is that ?" Jane inquired.
Mrs. O'Gara opened the Bible which lay
on the table near her. " Here it is, ma'am,"
she said : "' Leave thy fatherless children ;
I will preserve them alive;' and day and
night it's a comfort to me."
There was a pause; at length it was
88
GRACE O'GARA.
broken by Jane, who said, " Would you
tell me, Mrs. O'Gara, if it be not an im¬
proper question, when you were well and
happy were you religious ?"
" I have known the Scriptures, and loved
them too, since I was a child, ma'am," she
replied, " and they always made me happy.
I don't think one could be really happy
without them. We lived in a town, and I
went to Sunday school, and there I learned
them, for my teacher was a kind, good
lady, and took much pains with me. Two
of my sisters, and a dear brother, died one
by one, wasting away, just as I am doing
now. I read the Bible for them, and my
teacher came to see them, and I do think it
gave them comfort at the last; but I was
lonely when they left me, and father got
frightened, for he thought I was going to
follow them. So when John O'Gara came
and spoke to him about me, though I was
very young, he agreed, for he thought go¬
ing to live 'in the country, and being a lady,
(as he said I should be when I married one
that surely was a gentleman high-born,
tlioughxsomething down in the world now,)
THE COTTAGE.
89
he thought I should get up my spirits, and
he well again.
" Well, ma'am, I was married before I
had much time to think about it; for 0, if
I had looked for advice in my Bible, as I
ought to have done, I should have seen
there what would hinder me from marrying
one who had not a like faith with myself.
I think, too, that poor, father was a little
. proud to have a child of his marry a gentle¬
man, as he called O'Gara, and he gave him a
good deal of his hard-earned money with
me, to set matters right at Ballymoreen.
But instead of that John soon spent it all
pleasuring, pleasuring to the very last. O
ma'am, I had a deal to go through ; and
only that I knew God was taking care of
me, and that he would surely make all my
troubles, all things of every sort, ' work to¬
gether for good,' how could I ever have
borne them? You heard how he came here,
ma'am ; and of God's great mercy to me
here."
" I heard why you came, but I thought
it was under rather unfortunate circum¬
stances," replied Jane, looking puzzled.
90
GRACE O'GARA.
But the invalid's wan features were lit
up with, joy as she said, " 0 ma'am, God's
great mercy in bringing poor Uncle Ban-
dal to know his truth. Is not that enough
to make me happy, if I had nothing else ?"
" You were the means of his conversion,"
observed Miss Headley.
" I only read the Bible for him, ma'am,
or my little girl read it. But it was
great honor, and great joy, too, to be used
even in that humble way in bringing about
what makes the angels in heaven glad."
Just then Grace came bounding in, her
eyes sparkling, and her cheeks glowing.
" Mother," she cried, " here are Jack Doo-
lan's two little girls outside. They ran
down to tell us the good news. Their
father was just come home after guiding
some of the quality on the mountain ; and
though he did lead them a little astray
with his advice when the fog was coming
on, he was so smart at getting them out of-
it, and talked so much and so pleasant, that
though the ladies might be frightened they
forgave him, for he kept them all laughing.
Then he showed them the little girl's horse-
THE COTTAGE.
91
hair chains and bracelets that you taught
them to make, and which they had made
him put in his pocket when he was going ;
and sure, mother, the ladies and gentlemen
bought every one of them at a right good
price. He was handing the money to Nel¬
ly and Kate, when they told him they in¬
tended their earnings should buy him a
warm coat before the winter. ' Who put that
into your heads ?' says he. So they told
him it was Mrs. O'Gara. He said nothing
but that he must go and look for Mr.
Leahy's sheep, and drive them home, wet
and tired as he was. ' You need not,
father,' says Kate, ' for Gracey . O'Gara
drove them home an hour ago.' Nelly
says she saw the tears come in his eyes,
and he said,4 It is a good and a right religion
after all, let them say what they will of it,
if it teaches people to be forgiving to those
that talk ill of them, and to be kind, and
to be dutiful to their parents. Children,'
says he, ' you have my full and free leave
to go to Mrs. O'Gara whenever she will let
you, to learn to be handy and industrious
from her, and not be steaLing down there
92
GRACE O'GARA.
when I am out of the way, as I know you do.
And moreover, you may get learning out
of hooks from her too, for there is nothing
like it; and if the priest is angry, why let
him get a better teacher; and till he docs
he never shall hinder me letting you go to
her.' And he gave his hand a hard knock
down on the dresser, as he always does
when he is quite determined."
" Poor little girls !" said the widow ; " I
am very glad indeed. Tell them, Grace
dear, that I will teach them what little I
know as long as I am able; and after that,
Grace, may be you could teach them many
things, for you have uncle Randal's good
instructions."
" 0 mother! mother!" replied Grace,
bursting into tears, and throwing her arms
round Mrs. O'Gara's neck, " don't talk of
that. I know you won't leave me."
" Not until it is God's will," said the
mother, kissing her. " So now give the
little Doolans my'message."
" Are you strong enough to teach these
children, Mrs. OGara?" inquired Jane,
when Grace had again gune out.
THE COTTAGE.
93
" 0 ma'am it ;will make me stronger to
be doing any little work at all for my
Saviour—for him who did everything for
me. His parting words to Peter were to
feed his lambs, and sure it must be a pleas¬
ure to fulfill his will."
" Ah," thought Jane, " my cousin was
right when he said that happiness was to he
found in the right exercise of the moral
powers ; that is, in using them in the ser¬
vice of Him who gave them, as this poor
woman does."
Bichard now returned with the pleasing
intelligence that the others of the party had
arrived in safety, after meeting adventures
and encountering dangers exceeding their
own, in the descent from the mountain.
He had brought a conveyance for his sister
and cousin, and prepared to take leave by
thanking O'Gara for his hospitality.
" Don't mention it, sir," said the old
man, " you and the young ladies would he
welcome to Such fare as those that were
before me could have given you in tho
castle, not in a poor cabin like this."
On being assured that they were as much
94
GRACE O'GARA.
obliged and as comfortably refreshed by
the entertainment they had had, he con¬
tinued, looking pleased, "I am glad of it;
excuse me, but I like you much ; and one
reason is that you seem young people that
have a turn for literature; and you call
our noble mountain by its own ancient
name, Adrighoole, wliicb, I opine, means
' the hill of the battleand not by the
name the . Saxons have given it—Hungry.
0 it is only people that have little taste for
whatds ancient and respectable who would
desecrate it that way."
But notwithstanding old Randal's ap¬
proval of their nationality in this matter, a
controversy arose immediately after be¬
tween him and his young guests. He over¬
heard them offering his little grandniece
some remuneration for her trouble as their
guide ; or, rather, he overheard her words
as with glowing cheeks she declined it, spy¬
ing, " Please excuse me; please do. After
coming fo our house, as your honors kindly
did, how«could I take it ? I would do twice
as much to serve you."
" But, Grace," said Jane, " do you not
THE COTTAGE.
95
usually accept something for acting as
guide ?"
" Yes, ma'am ; for mother says we ought
never to be too proud to earn something in
an honest way ; hut now "
Here her uncle interrupted her. He
looked much annoyed, and his voice was
tremulous from agitating feelings, while he
said: " Put up your money, please, Mr.
Moore. Gracey does take payment for her
services as guide sometimes ; and she makes
these new-fashioned things of horse-hair
too, and sells them when she can, though
she's not come down so low yet, poor child,
as to hawk them about for sale. Her
mother taught her all this, not I. But
as to taking money from those that were
entertained under our roof, poor a cabin as
it is !" 0 1 never could submit to that."
" Indeed, Mr. O'Gara, nothing was fur¬
ther from our intention than to give
offense," said Bichard.
" And, dear uucle," cried Mrs. O'Gara,
" sure you won't be angry with me for
teaching our dear child to be industrious,
when you remember she will have noth-
96
GRACE O'GARA.
ing else in this world to trust to. And
then, sir, you know I am come of mean
people, and where should I get grand
notions ?"
" I know you are, Mary," he replied,
44 and I cannot blame you. How could you
feel as one who, like me —"
She interrupted him saying, " There is
another thing, Uncle Randal, that I think,
when once I remind you of it, will drive
away all your anger. Didn't our blessed
Lord himself work for his bread? You
know, uncle, the people despised him for it,
and they said, 4 Is not this the carpenter ?'
hut he bore it patiently, and all for our
sakes."
The influence of these words over the
old man's mind was immediately obvious.
44 True, true, dear niece," he said, in a
softer voice, 44 and he was of the royal
house of David; and lie was not too proud
to work, and to suffer, and all for our
sakes. 0 the pride, the pride of this heart!
It is ever rising up, and making me sin
against him. Can God forgive me, Mary ?"
This question, which was asked with real
THE COTTAGE.
97
and deep feeling, his niece answered by
saying, in a low gentle voice, " If any man
sin, we have an advocate with the Father,
Jesus Christ the righteous: and he is the
propitiation for our sins."
" How strange!" said Eichard, when he
and the two young ladies were on their way
back to their friend's house, " how strange
to observe the conflict that seems so often
to arise in that poor old man's mind be¬
tween the pride that is natural to it, and
the religious principles newly implanted
there!"
" Yes," answered Jane, " and it partly
explains to me things that puzzled me be¬
fore, when I have heard of an old and a new
law struggling against each other in per¬
sons who had become religious."
98
grace o'gara.
CHAPTER 'VI.
the conversation.
We have dwelt a long time on the day
of Jane Headley's excursion to Adrighoole
mountain, because it was a day greatly to
be remembered by her during the rest of
her life. It proved, indeed, an epoch in the
history of her mind. By means of what she
had heard from the lips of the little guide,
and the other inmates of the mountain cot¬
tage, she had obtained views such as she
had never known before of the true charac¬
ter of God—of his pardoning love, his free
mercy bestowed upon sinners through the
gift of the Son—that, made her realize,
although very faintly, some portion of that
feeling which enables Christians to say with
thankful hearts, " We love him, because he
first loved us."
Jane remembered little Grace's observa¬
tion : " Mother always answers from the
Bible," and to the same unerring teacher
THE CONVERSATION.
99
she now applied diligently for information
on the subjects which so much engaged her
thoughts. If, in her study of God's word,
she found things hard to he understood,
she also found there the encouraging assur¬
ance that her heavenly Father would give
the Spirit who guides into all truth to them
that ask him. The natural heart is dark,
and receiveth slowly " the light of the
knowledge of the glory of God in the face
of Jesus Christ." Still that light broke
gradually over the mind of our young in¬
quirer ; and, illumined by its ray, however
feeble in its dawning, the things of this
world assumed a different aspect from that
in which she had heretofore viewed them.
Still her thoughts and feelings were very
much pent up within her own bosom, and,
in many respects, of an indefinite and indis¬
tinct nature; and she longed to converse
with some one who could understand them
better than it was in her power to express
them. On some occasions, however, Jane,
when with her cousins, reverted to what
she had communicated on their little voyage
to Adrighoole.
100
GRACE O'GARA.
" Eichard," she said one day, while walk¬
ing with him and his sister on the romantic
shores of Glengariff, near which their
families had come to pass the summer
months, " Eichard, you probably remember
my telling you how I was puzzled on the
subject of happiness, since hearing that
memorable sermon of which I had given
you some account?"
" Perfectly," he replied; " you stated,
what probably few would be disposed to
contradict, that religious people alone were
really happy, for they alone possessed hap¬
piness that will endure. You also said that
religion obliged us to give up every kind of
pleasure. And your enigmR was to discover
how people could be happy after having given
up every pursuit for which their tastes and
habits had fitted them. Have you arrived
at the solution of this problem, which I can
only do by doubting the validity of your
second assertion."
" I doubt it myself too, Eichard," she
replied; " or, rather, I am now convinced
that the pleasures derived from the exercise
of intellect and taste, provided they be
THE CONVERSATION.
101
not allowed to interfere with duty, are by
no means inconsistent with true disciple-
ship. to the Saviour; but, on the contrary,
if consecrated to his service, may be
useful."
" Then there is no danger of your going
into a convent, at which I rejoice," said
Louisa, smiling.
" And I too rejoice," observed Eichard,
" that my dear cousin has expunged from
her creed such an irrational dogma as was
better suited to the self-torturing faith of
the Hindoo, than of the enlightened Chris¬
tian. But, Jane, have you, in delivering
our intellectual and tasteful enjoyments
from condemnation, extended the act of
grace to what we call the innocent recrea¬
tions of life ? I hope you would no longer
assert that she who occasionally attends the
theater and the ball-room must necessarily
be ' dead while she liveth.' "
" Well, Eichard," she replied, " I would
not assert it concerning others. Who am I
that I should judge? But for myself, it
seems to me that the more I read the Bible
the more I feel disinclined to such arnuse-
1
102
"GRACE O'GARA.
ments : in fact, that they are not compatible
with various rules laid down for the direc¬
tion of Christians; and. this, I am sure,
you will allow is sufficient to condemn
them."
" Show ine where they are directly pro¬
hibited," cried Eichard, " and that will be
sufficient, of course: but I would not be led
by inferences deduced from texts which are.
tortured from their simple meaning for that
purpose."
" Cousin," answered Jane," I will meet
that demand by reminding you of a passage
which you pointed out to me in a work that
you were reading yesterday, and which you
then thought very good: ' A book cannot
express the limitations with which maxims
of ethical truth are to be received and ap¬
plied: all it can do is to give general prin¬
ciples, and leave them to be applied by the
individual reason and conscience.' "
" Well, Jane, when I supplied you with
this remark, which indeed contains much
good sense, I did not intend to arm you
against myself. But since I must be satis¬
fied without direct prohibitions, will you
THE CONVERSATION.
103
mention some of those rules from whence
your inference is drawn ?"
" Dear Richard, I hacf no intention of en¬
tering the lists of controversy with you, nor
with any one else, on such a subject. I feel
my own ignorance of Scripture too deeply.
I will only say, that conformity to the world
is forbidden in the New Testament, and
that, consequently, it behoves all who pro¬
fess obedience to its precepts to find out
what conformity to the world means. Also,
it seems to me, my cousins, that if happi¬
ness here and hereafter is to be found in
the love of God to us, and ours to him—a
lesson which I do think was exemplified to
our observation by our poor friend at Ad-
righoole—whatever turns our thought from
such a subject, and leads us to disrelish it,
cannot be right."
" And, doubtless, you consider that the
light amusements in question have such a
tendency," said Louisa.
" Don't you think it probable, "Louisa ?"
Jane replied.
" Well, however that may be," cried
Richard, before his sister had time to answer,
104
GRACE O'GARA.
" Jane seems to admit that the higher pleas¬
ures of intellectual cultivation, and elegant
taste, have no such tendency; I suppose she
is right in that opinion. By means of
them we may every day see more and more
of the power and wisdom of God, and con¬
sequently our reverence for his character be
increased."
"And our love too," said Jane, "when
we know and feel that, as the Gospel teaches,
these attributes of power and wisdom are
exercised, not in the condemnation, but in
the salvation of creatures like us ; when, in
fact, we know and feel the- beautiful, the
comforting truth, ' God is love/ so pointed
out to my observation by our little guide of
Adrighoole, that it has since been like a
leading star in reading or thinking on such
subjects."
Jane paused, and colored, conscious of en¬
thusiasm in her manner; but her cousins,
knowing it to be sincere, met it without any
sign of disapprobation, which is, we believe,
generally the case when " out of the abund¬
ance of the heart the mouth speaketh."
Encouraged by this Jane henceforth, in
THE CONVERSATION. 105
pursuing her Biblical studies, often made a
remark, or appealed to her companions, for
an opinion regarding them, and was grati¬
fied to find them ever ready to take an in¬
terest in such discussions, though not pre¬
pared to make the same personal and prac¬
tical applications therefrom as herself.
It has been said, and we believe with
truth, that " there is a secret voice within
the heart of every one, that calls for the
Gospel, and for reconciliation with God."
This voice is heard more distinctly by the
mind's ear in the days of youth, than when
that ear has grown callous from repeated
and unavailing warnings. At least the
young mind seems always more susceptible
of religious impressions, and less prejudiced
against religious truth, than the old. This
fact, exemplified in Jane Headley's inter¬
course with her cousins, encouraged and
cheered her, while she continued to " search
the Scriptures" with renewed energy and
pleasure.
106
grace o'gara.
CHAPTEE VII:
the visit.
Some days after the above conversation
took place, Kichard entered the breakfast
room one morning, saying, " I have just
met the facetious Jack Doolan, from Adrig-
hoole, Jane, whose poetic account of the
fairies amused you so much, and he told me
what you will be sorry to hear. Poor little
Grace's mother is dying, and the child, and
the old chieftain of Ballymoreen Castle, as
you call him, are in great affliction, not
having been conscious of her being in any
danger till they were told that she could
not survive many days."
This piece of information was received
with concern even by the members of the
family who had not been of the Adrighoole
party; as the young people had, by an ac¬
count of their excursion, awakened great in¬
terest for the O'Garas.
" Poor Mrs. O'Gara!" exclaimed Jane,
THE VISIT.
107
how very much I should like to see her
once more before she dies. Then I have
some money which I got for the little orna¬
ments made by Grace, and probably the sick
woman wants it to procure many little com¬
forts in her last hours."
Her kind friends instantly entered into
her feelings, and arranged a sail over to
Adrighoole bay, the morning being fine;
while her. aunt, Louisa's mother, immedi¬
ately prepared a basket containing some
things suitable to an invalid, which, even
with money, could not readily be procured
in that place, and which Jane and Louisa
undertook to present at the cottage in a
way that would not be likely to offend any
of its inmates. Again the yacht was " gird¬
ling the wave," and leaning more decidedly
to the lee than on the former voyage in
that direction ; for summer had departed,
and the winds of autumn blew. But Jane
was, from habit, grown courageous, and was
not hindered by fear from appreciating the
beautiful scenery with which she- was sur¬
rounded, varied as it now appeared, by the
red and yellow tints which the woods had
108
GRACE O'GARA.
assumed, and which contrasted finely with
the bright hues of the evergreen arbutus.
When they had landed, and drew near
to O'Gara's humble dwelling, everything
seemed to wear a more desolate appearance
than on their former visit; whether it was
that the huge houghs of the trees under
which it stood were now bare, and their sear
leaves strewed the pathway; or that the
knowledge that death and sorrow were at
hand, cast a somber shade on all around.
Grace was the first to perceive the ap¬
proach of the cousins. She ran out to meet
them, with the customary " kindly welcome
hut when she got within a few paces of
where they were, she stopped suddenly, and
burst into tears. " My mother, ladies—my
dear mother," she said, as well as sobs
would allow her to speak.
" We heard that she was very ill,
Grace, and we are come to see her," replied
Louisa; while Jane took the little girl's
hand, and added, " She is in the hands of
God, Grace; and I need not remind you
that ' God is love.' "
" He is, ma'am, I know he is," cried the
THE VISIT.
109
girl,." and I know, too, that mother is in
his hands. When Uncle Randal said to
her last night, ' I am afraid you are very
weak, Mary,' she said,' I am, hut underneath
are the everlasting arms.' O ladies, she is
Very happy, and she is going to be-happier ;
and I am very wicked to he so sorry, hut
indeed I cannot help it."
The countenance of the dying woman,
when they entered, seemed fully to verify
this assertion. She was apparently too
weak to speak; hut a momentary flush on
her wasted cheek, and a smile of recogni¬
tion welcomed them. She was supported
hy pillows in her arm chair, and the blind
old man sat beside her. He, too, appeared
to be more feeble than when they had seen
Him last, and tottered when he rose to
make obeisance to his visitors. The first
thing he said after the young people were
seated, was: ' She is going away from us,
Mr. Moore—ladies," turning his sightless
. eyes toward his dying niece ; " but it is
to her Saviour. ' Absent from the body
—present with the- Lord,' as she says
herself."
110
GRACE O'GARA.
" And more than that too, uncle dear.
His promises are ' exceeding great and
precious,' " said the sick woman, speaking
with difficulty; but, as if impelled by a
feeling which she could not suppress, added:
" There is the resurrection hope, read this,
Graceyand opening a Testament which
lay beside her, she pointed out a passage
which her daughter read aloud: "When
this corruptible shall have put on incorrup-
tion, and this mortal shall have put on im¬
mortality, then shall be brought to pass
the saying that is written, Death is swal¬
lowed up in victory. 0 death, where is thy
sting? 0 grave, where is thy victory?
Thanks be to God, which giveth us the vic¬
tory, through our Lord Jesus Christ."
Though the effort she had made seemed
to have been too much for her weak frame,
and though Mrs. O'Gara's head fell ex¬
hausted on the back of the chair, her wan
features, while she listened to these words,
were illumined by a look of holy joy (it
might almost be said of triumph) which
did not escape the * observation of her
visitors.
THE VISIT.
Ill
Mrs. O'G-ara spoke little during the visit;
she was hindered by weakness; hut when
desirous to take a part in the conversa¬
tion, she still "answered from the Bible,"
by finding out some verse which her
daughter, who stood behind her chair, and
seemed to anticipate her every wish, read
aloud.
When the basket which Mrs. Moore had
prepared was brought in by one of the boat¬
men, Louisa said timidly, " You will not, I
am sure, he offended, Mr. O'Gara, hut mam¬
ma has taken the liberty of sending your
niece some little things that cannot he pro¬
cured in this neighborhood, and which are
fit for an invalid."
Instead of looking proud and displeased,
as his guests had apprehended, the old man's
countenance retained its placid expression.
He smiled as he said in reply, " I am not
offended, ma'am^ I am very much obliged.
O ladies, I may say with the prophet Jere¬
miah, that my soul has at last learned to
weep in secret places for my pride. My
poor Mary here, she has shown me from
God's word how he hates pride ; ' Those that
112
GRACE O'GARA.
walk in pride he is able to abase.' And I
am trying to learn of Him who was meek
and lowly in heart. It is a hard lesson, to
he sure; hut why should not I struggle to
learn it, if it pleases One who did so much
for me ? O my dear young friends, (excuse
me for calling you so,) I could never tell
you half his goodness. I now see how it
has followed me all my life, even in my
blindness, and bringing me here away from
the home of my ancestors. Do you remem¬
ber the old prophecy that I told you of, Mr.
Moore ?"
" Perfectly, Mr. O'Gara," replied Richard,
" It interested us all very much. I sincere¬
ly hope it is fulfilled."
" So it is, so it is," exclaimed -the old
man, with much emotion. " It is true
that the nettles grow on the hearth of our
halls, and that the stones of our castle are
scattered on the earth, hut since I came
here to this wild and sea-heaten coast of
Adrighoole, I have.found wealth and joy
too, far, far beyond all that was lost, even
'4 the exceeding riches of God's grace, in hjs
kindness toward us through Christ Jesus.'
THE VISIT.
113
The stranger still holds our earthly posses¬
sions, but our Lord has given me ' an inher¬
itance incorruptible and undefiled, and
that fadeth not away, reserved in heayen
for me.' "
" You are happy, truly happy, Mr.
O'Gara?" said Jane, after some minutes'
silence.
" Generally, ma'am, generally," he rer
plied. But, young friends, don't put off
coming to God for pardon and acceptance
through his Son, until you are old. 0, I
sometimes almost fear it was so late when
I came to him that—"
His voice faltered, but Mary's faint tone
was heard. " No, no, uncle dear," she
said, turning over the leaves of her Bible
with a weak but ready hand. " Just hear
what our gracious God has saidand
Grace read aloud: " When thou art in tribu¬
lation, and all these things are come upon
thee, even in the latter days, if thou turn
to the Lord thy God, and shalt be obedient
unto his voice, (for the Lord thy God is a
merciful God) he will not forsake thee,
neither destroy thee."
114
GRACE O'GARA.
Another long silence followed, during
which the young ladies opened the basket,
and persuaded the invalid to try some of
the delicacies which it contained. When
her feeble " Thank you, most *kindly," was
heard, the old man said: " And I thank
you, and thank God also. It is a new
proof of his care over this, his sick servant;
-and you can't think how many she has had.
The neighbors about her, though the priest
ordered them to have nothing do with' us,
when they heard how ill Mary was, came to
see her, bringing any little thing they
had that they thought she would like. Even
Jack Doolan, the bitterest of them all, he
brought her a leveret that he killed in the
glen ; and his wife and two little girls are
often here trying if they can help Grace
to take care of her."
Their farewell of Mrs! O'Gara, never
again to see her in this world, affected our
young friends not a little, particularly
Jane, who could not but regard her having
met tbis humble Christian and her little
girl, as a providential arrangement, which
God had mercifully made the means of
THE VISIT.
115
opening her eyes to " behold wondrous
things out of his law." She stood grasping
the hand of the dying woman for a few
moments after her cousins had left the cot¬
tage, and said: "Mrs. O'Gara, I tell you,
because I know it will give you pleasure
to hear, that the words you desired your
dear child to ' take in her mind, and use if
she found occasion,' the day she was our
guide on the mountain, were not without
effect. And 01 I do humbly trust that
according to your prayer, that little lamb
may have been the means of leading a
poor stray sheep to the fold of the Good
Shepherd."
The sick woman pressed her hand, and
looked upward with a smile of joy and
gratitude.
" I owe Grace a debt continued Jane,
" which it will be a great pleasure to me
to repay with affection and kindness,
should I ever have an opportunity;" and
so saying she quickly followed her
cousins.
Grace was walking after them, carrying
the empty basket down to the boat. When
116
GRACE O'GARA.
Jane overtook her she said: " I feel great¬
ly for you, my poor girl. The loss you are
likely to sustain is indeed a severe one ;
hut I wish much to ask you a question.
The day we were on the mountain you told
me that you were happy because God loved
you. You look pale and sad now ; and as
if you were happy no longer. Do you still
think that God loves you ?"
" 0 ma'am, to be sure I do. How could
I ever bear such a trial as this if I did not
think that it was sent in love ?"
" And still you are unhappy ?" said Miss
Headley.
Grace wiped away her tears, and replied
with more firmness: " I am sorry, ma'am,
very sorry; hut I am not unhappy. Dear
mother talked to me a good deal about this,
when she first told me she was going to
leave me. She made me learn many verses
in the twelfth chapter of Hebrews, which,
she said, would often comfort my heart
when she was gone; teaching me how the
troubles that God sends to his people are
just proofs of his love. And then, ma'am,
there is a reason given for his sending them
THE VISIT.
117
—0 such a reason ! she said; if we could
only feel it as we ought, we should he, how¬
ever sorrowful, still ' always rejoicing.'
You remember the reason why God chastens
us, ma'am ?"
" Not exactly, what is it ?"
Grace replied: " ' That we might he par¬
takers of his holiness.' Just think of that,
ma'am."
And Jane did think much upon these few
words, containing, as they do, an intimation
that, if duly appreciated, is sufficient to
make the mourner " lift up the hands which
hang down, and the feeble knees;" and
even to welcome that chastening which,
though it seemed not for the present " to
he joyous, hut grievous, nevertheless after¬
ward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of
righteousness unto them which are exercised
thereby."
" With what tranquillity that poor Mrs,
O'Gara awaits the slow but certain approach
of death," observed Kichard Moore, as they
returned home. " It is a strong testimony
in favor of the tenets she has professed to
hold. Then the old man, there seems to be
8
118
GRACE O'GARA.
a change in him since we saw him last.
The proud mind is greatly subdued, and
that, I suppose, because religious knowledge
is increased. Is it not that
' The soul's dark cottage, shattered and decayed,
Lets in new light thro' chinks which time has made V"
the funeral.
119
CHAPTER VIII.
the funeral.
About a fortnight after the visit of the
cousins to Mrs. O'Gara, they received in¬
formation of her death from an Adrighoole
fisherman. The time of their departure
from the sea-coast was now approaching.
Mr. Moore and his family were going to
their residence in a distant part of the
county, and Jane was to return home to
Dublin. This breaking up of their little
party was anticipated with regret by every
one, and so was their farewell to the scenes
of unrivalled beauty which they had de¬
lighted to explore, and which were still
objects of admiration to the eye of taste,
though they had lost every vestige of their
summer brightness.
Jane, and also Louisa, felt a strong de¬
sire to hear, or, if possible, to see something
of their poor little guide of Adrighoole
before leaving that eountry. Richard, ever
120
GRACE O'GARA.
desirous of gratifying his sister and cousin,
and feeling himself some interest in the
fallen chieftain, as he designated old Ran¬
dal, contrived to arrange a last visit to the
foot of the mountain—a ride on ponies, as
the season for boating had now gone by.
The first mild, and sunny morning (and
in that variable climate such frequently
occur even in the depth of winter) was
taken advantage of, and the three young
friends set out early on their way to Adrig-
hoole. " Poor old Randal will be delighted
to see us, or rather to hear us," said
Richard, as they cantered along. " He is
now entirely shut out from the society of
the ' wise and learned of this world,' as he
calls them, which he greatly covets."
" I scarcely think that we—at least, Jane
and myself—can be classed among such,"
replied Louisa laughing. " But I own I
have the national prejudice in favor of good
blood so far as to believe that those whose
veins are warmed with it possess an innate
feeling which leads them to shun the society
of the vulgar, and to like that of the edu¬
cated and well-bred."
THE FUNEKAL.
121
"Aery romantic," answered her brother;
"hut for my part, I would say with the
poet:
• Howe'er that be, it seems to me
;Tis only noble to be good;
Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood.'
What do you say, Jane?"
" I say," replied his cousin gravely,
" that simple faith, if the poet meant faith
in God's word and the Saviour it reveals, is
more, O how far more ! than all the ad¬
vantages that high descent, fortune, or any¬
thing else in this world could bestow; and
O 7
I learned this truth in the family of poor
old O'Gara."
The ride was long, and the road rough
and hilly ; however, youth and spirits over¬
look greater difficulties than these, and but
a short time seemed to have passed when
the cousins found themselves near the foot
of the stately Adrighoole. If the soft mists
and warm hues of summer no longer
adorned the shaggy sides of the mountain,
their loss was amply compensated by -the
additional magnificence which the rains of
122
GRACE O'GARA.
autumn had given to the waterfall. The
party instinctively drew up their ponies,
and were contemplating it in silent admira¬
tion, when Eichard exclaimed, " Ha ! what
is this ? A crowd of people coming up the
glen toward us. It is a funeral—an im¬
mense one—whose can it he ?"
Just then there suddenly arose, from the
approaching cavalcade, the wild and im¬
pressive Irish hien, or requiem :
" As winds on the Clairseach's* sad chords when they
stream,
As the voice of the dead on the mourner's dark
dream;
Far away, far away from dark distance it breaks,
First known to the heart by the sadness it wakes.
" Now lower, now louder and longer it mourns,
Now faintly it falls, and now fitful returns ;
Now near, and now nearer, it swells on the ear,
The wild ululua, the death-song is near."
The funeral approached, winding slowly
along the circuitous road at the foot of the
mountain, and was, as Eichard had ob¬
served, a very large one, hut consisting
almost entirely of peasants. The hearse,
with its black nodding plumes, passed them;
° The Irish harp.
THE FUNERAL OF OLD RANDAL.
THE FUNERAL.
125
then a great number of horses on which
countrymen were mounted, several with
women behind them ; a long array of carts
crowded with women, and of people of both
sexes on foot.
" Turn your ponies, and let us ride a few
paces with the funeral. It is a ceremony
which cannot be avoided without giving
offense," said Richard to the young ladies.
They complied, and when again on their
course toward Adrighoole, they recognized
among the crowd their old acquaintance,
John Doolan. He saluted them respect¬
fully, and on Richard's inquiring whose
funeral that was, replied: " Didn't your
honor hear, sir? O'Gfara's—Randal—the
last of the old family ?"
" Is it possible ?"
" I am really very sorry," exclaimed
.each of the party.
Indeed he is gone, ladies," continued
Jack ; " and gone without benefit of clergy
too. He never held up his head after his
nephew's widow died, and we thought he was
growing foolish, for he was always wanting
to go to Adrighoole church-yard, to sit for
126
GRACE O'GARA.
awhile at her grave, and we humored him
like, hut no one thought it well to take him
there. One morning, what should he do
hut steal out by himself to go there. Tom
Leahy saw him poking his way along with a
stick, and was going to try and bring him
back, when he saw him fall down the cliff.
He ran and took him up, and the old man
did not seem hurt, for he did not fall far;
but the shock was too great for him, and so
he died in about a week after."
" Had he his senses to the last ?" inquir¬
ed Jane Headley, much affected by the ac¬
count of O'Gara's death.
" He had, miss ; and he was as gentle as
a little child, and ready to do whatever one
asked him ; only when they wanted to send
for the priest he would say, ' No, no. What
do I want of him ?' and that the Lord Jesus
Christ was his priest."
Here Doolan, on mentioning that holy
name, reverently took off his hat, and then
continued: " To be sure it was very shock¬
ing, and I suppose we did wrong to be with
him ; but somehow we could not help it,
wben we thought of all tl^e good turns that
THE FUNERAL.
127
every one of them did for ourselves, and for
all the neighbors, little thanks as we seemed
to give them at the time. Then, sir, how
could we leave that poor little girl by her¬
self, and her last friend dying ?"
" Indeed, Jack, you were quite right not
to do so," replied Eichard Moore. " But
how does it happen that poor Bandal's fune¬
ral is so well attended by people who pro¬
fessed to hate him, and called him a here¬
tic? I did not think that this neighbor¬
hood could furnish half so many attend¬
ants."
"Nor could it, sir. I'll tell you how it
was. I said to him one night that I went
to sit up with him, and let Graceyget some
sleep, ' Mr. O'Gara,' says I, ' where would
you wish to be buried ? for I'll do my best
to please you about it.' ' Well, Jack,' says
he, ' I used to have a great wish to go back
to the Old Abbey, at Ballymoreen, where
all my people are. There is a tombstone
over them, with our crest'—I think he
called it—' and a handsome one it was in
its day,' says he. 'But—but Jack,' says
he, suddenly cheering up, ' I don't care now
128
GRACE O'GARA.
where I am laid. The Lord will know
where to. look for me when he comes ; and
if you throw this poor body into the sea,
'tis no matter, for the sea shall give up its
dead.' He didn't say much after this, sir;
hut I think he was almost always praying,
for his lips were moving, though we could
hear nothing. He died just as quiet as a
lamb, and no sooner was he gone than I
went off to Ballymoreen, to tell the news to
all the people that used to be the tenants
and the followers of the family; and bitter
as they were about his turning, their hearts
softened, and they all cried out that the
last O'Gara should he brought to where his
fathers lay; and moreover, that he should
have as decent a funeral as they could give
him. So they hired the hearse amo.ng
them, and came, as you see. No one could
hinder them, and that gave the neighbors
here courage to go too. But I shan't be
able to overtake them if I wait any longer,
so good morning to your honors," and he set
off at a quick pace to rejoin the procession.
It was at once decided that the little par¬
ty should proceed to O'Gara's cottage, to
THE FUNERAL.
129
visit poor Grace, who, as Doolan informed
them, in reply to a question at parting, had
remained there, not being well enough to
go to the funeral. All was still and look¬
ing desolate about the cottage. To those
who possess sensitive feelings there is some¬
thing almost sacred in the abode of afflic¬
tion, and the young people approached the
door with noiseless steps. There they
paused, and heard the low voice of a child
saying, "Don't you he crying,. Gracey.
Sure you say that your mother and Uncle
Randal are gone where they are very
happy."
"Ah, Nelly!" Grace answered, "it is
not for them that I am crying ; 'tis for my¬
self to he without them," and her sobs were
renewed.
" Gracey," said the first little speaker,
after a pause, " sure, it can't be that you're
forgetting what your mother told you would
be a comfort to you when you were lonesome,
or in trouble ?"
" No, Nelly," replied the orphan, evident¬
ly with an effort to be composed: " it was
this : ' When my father and my mother for-
130
GRACE O'GARA.
sake me, then the Lord will take me up.
Teach me thy way, 0 Lord, and lead me in
a plain path.' And mother said that while
I asked God to do this, he would surely
show me what to do, and take care of me,
whatever distress I might he in."
Jane's heart was full, and she went into
the cottage, saying, " Grace, my poor little
guide—a guide out of worse mists and dark¬
ness than overtook us on the mountain—
how I do wish I could comfort you!"
The same wish was expi'essed by Richard
and his sister, and its fulfillment was part¬
ly effected by their expressing it, as kind¬
ness and sympathy are ever soothing, espec¬
ially to the youthful mourner. This poor
girl's natural grief for the loss of her
friends, her uncertainty respecting her fu¬
ture destiny in this world, together with
her child-like trust in the care of her heav¬
enly Father, seemed well to illustrate the
apostle's description of a tried believer, " as
chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet
always rejoicing." After a while she he-
came quite composed, and conversed freely
with her visitors, except that it seemed she
THE FUNERAL.
131
could not yet mention her beloved mother
without difficulty, and a choking sound in
her voice.
It was different with respect to Uncle
Bandal. There was an expression of thank¬
fulness, almost of joy, when she spoke of
him. " 0 ladies," she said, " it was so
good of God to. turn his heart, and make
him love the Bible he used to hate. He
knew this himself, and the very last words
I could hear him say were, ' I will bring
the blind by a way that they knew not; I
will lead them in paths that they have not
known: I will make darkness light before
them, and crooked things straight. These
things will I do unto them, and not forsake
them.' "
Grace being questioned as to her own in¬
tentions, told that after her mother's death,
her Uncle Randal had made her write to
Mrs. O'Gara's family, who were rich people,
or as she expressed it, " well to do in the
world," mentioning the totally destitute
state she would be left in when her uncle
died—an event that could not be far off—
and asking them to assist her so far as to
132
GRACE O'GARA.
place her in some situation by means of
which she could earn her bread. No reply
to this application had as yet arrived; nor
was there much hope that it.ever would.
Her mother's relatives had, at different
times, supplied O'Gara with money, in the
hope of his affairs being retrieved, and their
ambition realized of seeing Mrs. O'Gara a
lady. Repeated disappointments proving
the fallacy of these expectations, they gave
up all intercourse with the O'Gara family,
nor was it likely they would now be inclined
to renew it.
While any hope remained of receiving an
answer to the letter, Grace was to stay at
the cottage, with Jack Doolan's little daugh¬
ter, one of her mother's pupils, to keep
her company, the child who was then with
her; while the Doolans, and other kind-
hearted peasantry of the neighborhood,
would help her so far as in their power. She
was, if no favorable answer came, then to
try and procure employment of some sort in
a town, by means of her mother's former
Sunday-school teacher, who had always
kept up a correspondence with Mrs. O'Gara,
THE FUNERAL.
133
and manifested a desire to assist her, though
not rich enough to do so with money.
When this little account of her intentions
had been drawn from Grace by the questions
of her friendly visitors, it was time to de¬
part ; nor did they take their leave without
charging her to apply to them in case of
need, as they would be most willing to aid
her, should it be in their power to do her
any service.
" Perhaps this may soon be the case, my
poor girl," said Jane ; " I think you will
soon hear from me; meanwhile you must
oblige me by keeping this to supply present
wants," and she put some money into her
hand. Eichard and Louisa did the same;
and though their gifts altogether did not
amount to a large sum, it was sufficient to
make them sure that she could not, for
awhile, want any necessary of life, nor be a
hurden on the kind-hearted Doolans.
When the cousins were again on their
way, Jane said, " I have thought of a plan
concerning our poor little guide; 0! so
nice a plan and there seems no danger of
134
GBACE O'GAKA.
mj not being able to execute it. I am, you
know,- to be mistress of my father's house
when I return home, and am to have a maid
of my own; some decent well-brought-up
person, papa said."
" And are you aspiring to have this young
chieftainess, this scion of the great stock of
O'Gara, in the capacity of your servant?"
asked Eichard, laughing.
" Well, cousin," she replied, " I would not
treat her as such. She should be more my
companion than my servant. She has a
fine capacity, and under Uncle Eandal's
tuition acquired a great desire for informa¬
tion. I might be able to gratify this in
ways that would afterward prove useful to
her, and she could—indeed, dear cousin, she
could—impart knowledge to me on subjects
still more important."
" It is a nice plan, and I hope may prove
possible," Eichard answered ; " but you did
well not to communicate it to Grace until
you consult your father, for fear of any
hindrance."
" 0, no danger of that!" exclaimed Jane,
with much animation. " I have often
THE FUNERAL.
135
thought it over, even before old O'Gara's
death, and could perceive no difficulty in the
Avay of execution. May I not also conclude,
Richard," she; continued, in a more timid
tone, " that as this little plan is calculated
to promote the good of two of God's crea¬
tures, he will not he likely to frustrate
it?"
" And how do you know that it is ?" her
cousin answered. " I am no great theolo¬
gian, but I have heard and read, and even
observed, that plans laid down with the best
intentions sometimes produce evil instead
of good; therefore He who knows the end
from the beginning will often interfere to
prevent the execution of what we devise.
Th»t your scheme would he useful to little
Grace appears probable enough; but I can¬
not exactly see how it would be so to you.
I think you might easily procure more effi¬
cient instruction in religion than she could
bestow."
" To be sure, Richard, instruction from
the pulpit; but don't you allow that it would
be a great matter to have a companion in
the house with me who was always ready
9
136
GRACE O'GARA.
to talk on the hest of subjects ? Dear papa
likes to see friends assembled round his
dinner-table; and, as mistress of his estab¬
lishment, it will be my duty to make them
as pleasant as I can. Now although many
of his circle of acquaintance are agreeable,
and some of them intellectual people, they
are not, I fear, such as would be likely to
introduce religious subjects into conversa¬
tion."
Here Eichard interrupted her, exclaim¬
ing, " So much the better, cousin. It seems
to me most incongruous to mix up such
high and holy themes with dinner-table
chat. Let them be reserved for solemn
occasions."
" But, Eichard," replied Miss Hea&ley,
" do you not recollect our Lord's words:
' Out of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh ?' And is it not a fact that
people always like to talk of what most en¬
gages their minds ? Therefore if those we
associate with never speak of God, are we
not obliged to infer that he is not in all
their thoughts? However, dear cousin, I
did not mean to judge our acquaintances,
THE FUNERAL.
137
but merely to state a fact, that they will
not he likely to converse on the most inter¬
esting of all subjects, which I cannot agree
with you in thinking can ever he deemed
out of time by those who love it. I was
only going to say how refreshing, how pleas¬
ant it would be to me always to find, in the
retirement of my own room, one ready to
speak to me of God, and of his word, as our
dear little mountain guide would he. The
domestic party, though not in accordance
with my taste and feelings, I may, with
such an antidote against the worldly feel¬
ings likely to be imbibed there, ever at hand,
partake of to please dear papa; and in doing
so shall only follow the dictates of my con¬
science."
Richard laughed again as he replied,
" Listen, Jane, to an admirable saying which
I met with lately: ' Some persons follow the
dictates of conscience only in the same man¬
ner in which a coachman may he said to
follow the horses he is driving.' "
Some minutes elapsed, and as Jane made
no reply, Richard glanced at her, and see¬
ing that she looked very serious, he said:
138
GftACE O'GABA.
" Surely, dear cousin, you are not angry
with me ?"
"0 no; nothing couM be further from
my thoughts; but your saying has greatly
struck me, Richard. It is, as you term it,
admirable. I will hoard it among the
choicest treasures of memory, and use it as
a talisman to preserve me from the error of
being led by my own inclinations, while I
fancy myself led by conscience. You have
pointed out a danger of which I was not
aware. A temptation which, I do believe, I
was under the influence of that moment.
Yes; there was in my mind some little
feeling of pleasure at the notion of presiding
at papa's table, and being a person of some,
importance, which I tried to think arose from
the anticipation of the good such a position
would enable me to do. You knew me bet¬
ter than I did myself, and saw how wrong I
was."
" I knew this," Richard replied ; that
while you are so perfectly candid,-and so
sweet tempered, you are not likely to go
very far wrong in anything."
" What a.proof I have just received of the
THE FUNERAL.
139
truth of the prophet's declaration, that ' the
heart is deceitful above all things,'" thought
Jane, as she rode on, pondering over the
conversation which she had. just had with
her cousin. " Richard's remark that ' plans
laid down with the best intentions some¬
times produce evil instead of good, therefore
He who knows the end from the beginning
will often interfere to prevent the execution
of what we devise,' is also worth remember¬
ing. 0, I will always pray to God to direct
everything for me himself; and not to let
anything I settle take place, unless he sees
that good will ensue."
This was a right resolution ; likely, if
persevered in, to produce that entire de¬
pendence upon our heavenly Father, and
acquiescence in his will, which will give true
peace to the mind through the various
changes of life ; and which Jane was soon
called on to exercise.
140
grace o'gara.
CHAPTER IX.
evil tidings.
The morning after the ride to Adrighoole
letters arrived at Mr. Moore's which, Jane
at once perceived, caused some consternation
to her friends there. After reading them,
her uncle called his wife out of the room
for a time; and when they returned Mrs.
Moore was very pale, and they both looked
exceedingly depressed.
"Dear aunt, what is the matter?" cried
Jane.
Her uncle answered: " I have had com¬
munications from Dublin, my dear, not of a
pleasant nature, and must go there without
delay. Now, as you were to leave us in a
few days, we think it best you should take
advantage of my escort, and come with me."
" 0, uncle, something ails papa," Jane
exclaimed; and she had guessed rightly.
Sorrowful tidings were now broken to her,
and though with as much gentleness and
EVIL TIDINGS.
141
kindness as possible, she was nearly over¬
come by them. Her father, long at the
bead of prosperous and extensive mercantile
concerns, had most unexpectedly failed, in
consequence, as was supposed, of indulging
in rash speculations. The shock, the excite¬
ment, and -the exertions required in such an
emergency, had been too much for him, and
he was now suffering under an apoplectic
attack, from which his recovery was very
doubtful.
Jane's first desire was to go to him with¬
out delay, and for this purpose she did all
she could in order to regain composure and
strength for the journey, which was, as may
be imagined, a sorrowful one.
The travelers found, on arriving, that no
favorable change had taken place in Mr.
Headley's state; nor was there anything to
mitigate Jane's grief except the physician's
assurance that he did not suffer pain. He
had not, for some hours, appeared to re¬
cognize any person ; but at the sound of his
daughter's voice he moved his head slightly
toward where she stood; and when she
pressed her lips to his cheek, he made an
142
GRACE O'GARA.
effort to speak, but in vain. What would
not Jane have given now to be sure that
her beloved parent possessed that hope,
" the hope that maketh not ashamed," which
had shed such peace over the departure of
the poor cottagers S,t the foot of Adrighoole
mountain ? Many a prayer did she offer
up, as she knelt at his bedside, that God
would not remove him till she had some
evidence of his having found joy and
peace through the Gospel; but he never
spoke again, and died a few days after her
arrival.
For some time after this event took
place Jane was so completely absorbed in
the loss of her dear father, that slie could
not turn her thoughts to any other subject,
except when she sought for consolation by
reading the word of God, or by praying for
submission to his will. At length her
uncle, Mr. Moore, who had remained in
Dublin for the purpose of being useful to
her, pointed out to her the necessity there
was that she should arrange her plans for
the future. This recalled Jane's attention
to the cause of her father's illness, namely,
EVIL TIDINGS.
143
•the ruin of his affairs, which, under the first
pressure of grief for his death, her mind
had scarcely ever reverted to. The full
consciousness of her present position was
startling; she anxiously questioned her
uncle on the subject. From a prospect,
which seemed almost amounting to a cer¬
tainty of independence, even of wealth, the
most that would remain for Jane would be
barely sufficient to keep ber in clothes.
" Dear uncle," she cried, " what am I to
do? You must judge for me; you must
act for me in everything."
Mr. Moore then told her that her mother's
sister, a widow lady who lived in the coun¬
try, had proposed that Jane should reside
with her.
" Your complying with her desire seems
to me the best plan you can adopt, Jane,"
he said; "she seems anxious about it, and
as she is living alone the advantage will
be mutual."
Jane had no alternative. She knew but
little of Mrs. Singleton, her aunt; and that
little- had not left a pleasant impression of
the lady, whom she had always thought of
144
GRACE O'GARA.
as a cold, stately person; and no character
could be more repulsive to one of her own
confiding and affectionate disposition. Her
relatives, the Moores, would, she knew, re¬
joice if they could have her for an inmate;
hut they were a numerous family, and by
no means rich. Jane was therefore,. as we
have intimated, shut up to the acceptance
of her aunt's offer, ajid the plan was imme¬
diately acted upon. Mr. Moore accompanied
Jane in the journey to her new home, which
was in an inland county ; and when he hade
her farewell, and, re-entering the carriage
in which they had .come, drove away, she
felt as if her best earthly friend had left
her.
Mrs. Singleton, though manifesting a
kind feeling in the reception of her niece,
was, just as that young lady's memory de¬
picted her, a cold, reserved person. She
resided at a small country place, in a retired
situation ; and though, under the pressure
of her recent heavy sorrow, Jane at first
rejoiced in the seclusion of Arden Lodge,
she soon found evil to arise from the dull
monotony of her life. Much of her leisure
EVIL TIDINGS.
145
was devoted to efforts at increasing her
acquaintance with the word of God, so
deeply, in her present isolated state, did
she feel the force of Solomon's assertion
concerning it, " When thou goest, it shall
lead thee ; when thou sleepest, it shall keep
thee; and when thou awakest, it shall talk
with thee. For the commandment is a
lamp; and the law is light; and reproofs
of instruction are the way of life;" and
though she sometimes felt that the testi¬
monies of her Lord were her comfort as well
as her counselors, still her spirits flagged;
and she experienced little of that "joy and
peace in believing," irrespective of outward
circumstances, which she knew to be the
privilege of the Christian ; and often, with a
feeling of self-condemnation, she would re¬
peat these lines:
" 0 shame upon thee, listless heart,
So sad a sigh to heave;
As if thy Saviour had no part
In thoughts that made thee grieve.
" As if, along his lonesome way,
He had not borne for thee
Sad languor through the summer day,
Storms on the wintry sea.
146 GRACE O'GARA.
" Then grudge \not thou the anguish keen
Which makes thee like thy. Lord;
And learn to quit with eye serene,
Thy youth's ideal hoard."
This "ideal hoard"—the plans of useful¬
ness and happiness laid up in Jane's mind,
and of which our readers.have had a sketch
in her conversation with her cousins during
their last excursion to Adrighoole—she did
indeed find it difficult to " quit with eye
serene." A thought would sometimes arise,
that it was strange she should, in the arrange¬
ments of Providence, have been deprived of
the means of doing good, and, as she con¬
ceived, of glorifying her Redeemer, by mak¬
ing an open profession of discipleship while
her position in society might have rendered
her example of some influence. Jane did
not remember how that same position would
have exposed her to various temptations from
which she was now exempt; for though a
sincere, she was but an inexperienced Chris¬
tian. Those who have observed the Lord's
dealings with his people, will not have one
doubtful thought as to the kindness and
wisdom with which he orders even the
EVIL TIDINGS.
147
seemingly trifling events of every-day life.
.They will rest satisfied in a belief that all
is for the best, though they may not he able
to understand how, remembering the de¬
claration of the Lord Jesus: " What I do
thou knowest not now; but thou shalt
know hereafter."
148
grace o'gara.
CHAPTER X.
an unexpected meeting.
Time passed in the same monotonous
course for nearly two years at Arden Lodge,
after it had become the home of Jane Headley.
Those who judged by outward appearances
might have supposed that she found- it a
pleasant one; hut such was not the case.
Though Mrs. Singleton took care that Jane
was treated by every one with the respect
due to her own niece, and though she never
was intentionally unkind, yet Jane was
often tried by a certain waywardness of
temper in. her aunt which it was not easy
to hear.
That lady was much of an invalid, and
being recommended to try the sea air,
resolved on removing for two or three
months to a small seaport town in a southern
county. Accordingly a cottage was taken
on the strand, which was situated aJbout two
miles from the town, and there the aunt
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 149
and niece, and their little establishment,
were soon settled.
Jane, like most young people, had hopes,
though they were of a very indefinite
nature, that change of scene must be for
the better. It was true that the land¬
locked bay,-near which their present resi¬
dence was situated, with its glassy bosom
unruffled by a wave, and its gently sloping
shores covered, with the richest verdure,
looked tame and uninteresting in her esti¬
mation, when memory recalled the surge-
beaten cliffs and cloud-capped mountains of
the west; still there was, at first, some little
excitement produced by novelty.
This, however, soon dwindled into the
usual course, and as they had less inter¬
course with their neighbors here than at
home, Jane's life was more solitary than
ever. The society of Mrs. Singleton was no
mitigation of her loneliness, she being so
reserved and silent that there was a total
want of companionship between them, nei¬
ther had they any tastes in common ; and
though Jane deemed it her duty to conform
to her aunt's wishes as much as possible,
150
GRACE O'GARA.
she did so in a listless manner. Natural
sweetness of disposition, strengthened by
Scriptural principles, enabled this young
disciple to hear and forbear a great deal;
but her spirits sank under the want of sym¬
pathy and companionship; and in all the
busy idleness with which her time was per¬
petually occupied by her aunt's require¬
ments, she experienced the listless languor
of one who, accustomed to active exertion, is
without employment.
On the subject which now had for more
than two years most engaged her mind, the
religion of the Scriptures, she never heard a
word spoken. Still Mrs. Singleton was an
observer of outward forms, and considered
herself a devout person. She went regu¬
larly to Church, and did not entertain
company on Sundays; hut beyond this
her life afforded no indication that she
deemed herself accountable to God in the
disposal of any of his gifts ; and to speak of
that God and the wonders of redeeming
love which he has revealed in his word,
would have been esteemed quite out of
place in Mrs. Singleton's circle.
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 151
We would not have our readers infer,
from anything we have said, that our
young Christian, Jane Headley, felt no
anxiety for the spiritual improvement of
those about her. We believe that no one
can be really called out of the darkness of
nature into the marvelous light of Gospel
truth, without experiencing a desire to be
the means of imparting that blessing to his
fellow-sinners. Jane possessed this desire ;
she sighed as she thought how easily .she
could have promoted Scriptural knowledge,
if the money and influence upon which she
once reckoned had been left her: and fail¬
ure in the few efforts to do good which she
had ventured on, under present circum¬
stances, so disheartened her, that she now
deemed herself too insignificant to be any¬
thing but an unprofitable servant, forget¬
ting how it is written, " Not by might, nor
by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord
of hosts." Zech. iv, 6.
" Jane," said Mrs. Singleton to her
niece, one wet morning, when she could
neither take her daily drive, nor expect
visitors to " while away the hours," "Jane,
10
152
GRACE O'GARA.
is' there -no new "book that you could read
for me ? I am tired of this netting."
" I helieve not, aunt," Jane answered ;
" hut I have an old book; a very old book;
still one that I think people like better and
better the more they read it, and I will
gladly read it for you."
"A very old book!" exclaimed her aunt.
"0, I know what you mean. Have I not
told you, over and over, Jane, that I read
the lessons for the day every morning after
breakfast."
"Yes, aunt," replied Jane, timidly, "but
you know our Saviour has desired us to
' search the Scriptures,' which seems to
mean something more than just reading
them ; and so I thought that this might be
the better done if two searched them to¬
gether, and conversed about them."
" Ha ! I see what you are at," Mrs. Sin¬
gleton answered. " You have, I know, im¬
bibed some of these new notions about re¬
ligion, and want to make a convert of me,
1 suppose ; but you may as well put it out
of your head at once. I never will change
my religion for any one; and, truly, it is
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 153
rather presumptuous of a young, girl like
you to set up as a teacher to your elders."
" Dear ma'am, you wrong me by sup¬
posing I wish to do so," said Jane. " I feel
my own-deficiencies too much. Neither did
a 'thought of changing your religion ever
enter my mind. It appears to me that the
denomination is of little importance if the
heart he right with God."
" What do you mean by that phrase ?"
inquired Mrs. Singleton.
" I mean, dear aunt, what the Saviour
spoke of when he said, ' Except a man be
horn again, he cannot see the kingdom of
God.' " John iii, 3.
It was the first time that she had ever
ventured to say so much to Mrs. Singleton
on such a subject; and, as if suddenly
made conscious of her unwonted temerity,
she stopped and colored violently.
Mrs. Singleton remained silent for some
minutes, and as this was not her usual
method of testifying disapprobation, the
cheering notion occurred to Jane's mind
that perhaps her few words had made some
impression on the mind of her aunt. But
154
GRACE O'GARA.
this pleasant hope was soon dispelled. Mrs.
Singleton rose, put away her' netting, and
said :
" Really you are quite a preacher; niece ;
hut, as I have already told you, I never
will be your convert. The good of religion
is to make us cheerful and happy ; and you
never seem to be one or the other. This is
not the practice that will recommend your
doctrines." She then left the room.
Jane felt this remark keenly ; the more
so as she had a consciousness that there
was truth in it. "I have been uneasy,"
thought she, " because I was shut out from
opportunities of leading others in the way
they should go; but ah, how little did I
apprehend that I should be a hindrance to
their seeking it. I am gloomy, and iny
religion most unjustly gets the credit of
making me so. This is very sad, but how
can I help it ? There is nothing in out¬
ward circumstances to make me otherwise,
though the generality of people could not
understand this, could not understand how
impossible it is for one who was always
used to affection and sympathy, to be happy
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 155
without them. Surely there is truth in the
poet's words:
' The keenest pangs the wretched find
Are rapture to the dreary void,
The leafless desert of the mind,
The waste of feelings unemployed.'"
It would have been better had Jane tried
to discover a reply to her own question,
How can I help it?-tKan to indulge in
such feelings. However, it happened that
in the providential arrangements of Him
to whom she might say, "My Father,
thou art the guide of my youth," she soon
received an answer to the inquiry in a way
that was unexpected.
The rain had ceased and the sun shone
brightly- in the evening sky. It was past
the hour for Mrs. Singleton's daily drive,
and as that lady's movements were as regu¬
lar as if directed by clockwork, she never
went at any other. Jane therefore thought
that she might take a solitary walk, which
she now esteemed as an indulgence, and
never missed an opportunity of enjoying.
Not far from the strand was a gentle¬
man's park, in which strangers were at lib-
156
GRACE O'GARA.
erty to walk, and thither she bent her steps.
The air was fresh and sweet; the rain drops
which hung upon every leaf and blade of
grass, glistened like diamonds in the sun¬
shine, and the birds had resumed their mer¬
ry songs, as if rejoicing in the return of fine
weather. But Jane did not partake of their
cheerfulness, and she sought out a part of
the demesne which was wooded, and where
she was not likely to meet any company.
However, she had not wandered long under
the shade of the trees when she saw three
children, accompanied by a talk slight girl,
who looked as if she were their nursery gov¬
erness. To avoid them, Jane went to a lit¬
tle cottage which had been made in the wood
for the accommodation of visitors. It con¬
sisted of two small rooms, one inside the
other, and she sat down in the inner one to
rest herself. She had not been there many
minutes when the same party entered the
outer apartment, and she heard the young
girl say:
" There is going to be a shower, children ;
let us wait here until it has passed away."
The tones of the voice seemed familiar to
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 157
Jane, but she tried in vain to recollect wbere
she had heard them. One of the children
answered: " 0,1 hope we need not stay long;
I would rather run about the park. I am
sure, cousin, that the wild place you came
from, with its mountains, and the s'ea, and
the lakes, can't be half so pretty a place as
this."
" I think it can't," said another; but 1
wish you would sing us the song that you
know about it, while we are waiting here,
cousin."
" I will with pleasure, darling," was the
reply, and the young woman sang- as follows,
to a native melody:
" I know a lake
Where the cool waves break,
And softly fall on the silver sand;
And no steps intrude
On that solitude,
And no voice, save mine, disturbs the strand.
" And a mountain bold,
Like a giant of old,
Turn'd to stone by some magic spell;
Uprears in might,
His misty height
And his craggy sides are wooded well.
158
GRACE O'GARA.
" There the hollow shells,
Through their wreathed cells,
Make music on the silent shore;
As the summer breeze,
Through the distant trees,
Murmurs in fragrant breathings o'er.
" If it were my lot,
In that fairy spot
To live forever, and dream 'twere mine,
Courts might woo,
And kings pursue,
Ere I would leave thee—loved Lough-Ine."
The deep sweet voice of the young song¬
stress at once recalled the little guide of
Adrighoole to Jane's remembrance, though
it was considerably improved since she had
heard it last; so much so that the listener
might have doubted its being the same, only
for the words of the song. These brought
the wild shores and misty heights of the
western mountains so vividly to her mind
that she was sure the stranger was Grace
O'Gara. With this conviction came such
thoughts of past happiness, when she was
ever in the society of those who loved and
cherished her, that her tears fell fast until
the song was ended. She then advanced,
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 159
and stood before the songstress, who, recog¬
nizing her with a cry of delight, sprang
toward her, and catching one of Miss Head-
ley's hands in hoth of her own, covered it
with kisses, while her eyes were suffused
with tears, hut not of sorrow, as their joy¬
ous sparkle testified.
" Dear, dear Miss Jane, I am so glad to
see you; 0, it is so like home. Did you
come here on purpose to meet me? How
kind. But you were always kind."
Miss Headley fully returned her affec¬
tionate greeting, and said: " Why do you
ask if I came here to meet you, Grace?
How could I possibly know that you would
he here ?"
" I thought, ma'am, that Mr. Moore might
have written yon word I was in the neighbor¬
hood, and then you might easily guess that
the first thing I would do would be to go
and see you, which we were on our way to
do when the rain stopped us. This is the
lady we were going to visit, my dears," she
continued, addressing the children; " and
as we have met her we need not go on.
The rain is over; and you may play in the
160
GRACE O'GARA.
gravel walks, while, if Miss Headley wishes,
she and I can sit here."
This proposal being acceded to, was car¬
ried into effect, and Jane, once more seated
beside her humble friend from the mount¬
ains of the far west, felt that, for the first
time for a long season, her mind could en¬
joy what has been expressively termed its
elbow room, having a companion able to
understand and sympathize in her feelings.
talk with an old friend. 161
CHAPTER XI.
talk with an old friend.
They sat for some minutes in silence,
each regarding the change which had passed
on the other since their last meeting. Miss
• .
Headley observed that her little guide had
grown tall, and was improved in appear¬
ance. Her dress was more in accordance
with modern usage than when she had first
heen seen hy the visitors to Adrighoole
hounding like a fawn over the heath-covered
crags of that wild region; still, it was neat
and simple, and there was an air of dignity
in the youthful figure of the wearer that,
according to Jane's fancy, denoted the high
descent of the O'Gara. Her countenance,
as of old, beamed with intelligence, and was
illumined with the same happy contented
expression which it had worn in her child¬
ish days. Grace, on the contrary, remarked,
that Miss Headley, when the pleasing ex¬
citement of the meetiji^g passed away, had a
162
GRACE O'GARA.
look of sadness and abstraction very differ¬
ent from that which adorned her features
on their first acquaintance.
" You spoke of my cousin, Mr. Moore,
Grace," said Jane. "Was it he who told
you where I was to be found ? And when
did you see him ?"
These questions, which led to others,
were the means of eliciting Qrace O'Gara's
little history since they had last met) which
was as follows, and part of which Miss
Headley was already acquainted with
through the letters of her cousins.
Not long after that young lady's de¬
parture from Glengariff, a letter had come
to Grace O'Gara from a sister of her
mother, in reply to the application which
Grace had made to her relatives for assist¬
ance. This person was the wife of a man
who had made, and was still making, a
good deal of money by a shop in a seaport
town. She wrote to offer her orphan .niece
an asylum in her house, provided she would
undertake the care of three young children,
which offer was accepted.
Grace's faithful #dend, John Doolan,
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 163
hastened with, this intelligence to Mr.
Eichard Moore and his family, who were
still at the bathing place, for the purpose
of getting their advice as to the best means
of transporting the little guide to the town
where her aunt resided, which was in another
county, he having no knowledge of such
matters. This business was arranged, in
the best manner possible by Eichard ; while
his mother and sister endeavored in some
degree to modernize Grace's appearance
and wardrobe; the few articles of furniture
which her uncle had left being sold to de¬
fray the expenses of the journey.
Jack Doolan accompanied the young
traveler for some" miles, driving her in one
of the country cars, till he placed her in a
coach, which took her to Cork, from whence
another would convey her to her place of
destination.
" But 0, Miss Headley," cried Grace,
when she came to this part of her little
history, " you cannot think. how hard I
found it to go away. I thought my heart
would burst when I took my last look at
every one and every thing. The evening
164
GRACE O'GARA.
before we set out I went to mother's grave.
It was sad enough to be sure, but I read the
fifteenth chapter of Corinthians there, which
she told me to be sure and do whenever I
went to visit it, because it would comfort
me. And so it did, indeed, in a way that I
never felt it do before. O Miss Jane, what
a joy it is to be certain of that dear form
which we loved so well, that though it is
sown in corruption it is to be raised in in-
corruption ; though sown in dishonor, to be
raised in glory ; though sown in weakness,
to be raised in power! Indeed, ma'am,
I was able to dry my eyes, and to thank
God for all his mercies; and then to stoop
down and kiss the grass over her head ; and
I pulled up a little plant of bog myrtle that
was growing there to take with me wherever
I went. I have -it safe, Miss Headley, and
will show it to you some- day, because I
think you would like to see it."
After pausing some minutes Grace con¬
tinued : " I was not able to visit Uncle
Randal's resting-place. He is in our family
tomb at Ballymoreen, and it was too far off,
so I'll tell you what I did, ma'am, that I
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 165
might have some token of him like that
which I had of mother. I pulled a hit of
mountain fern that grew on Adrighoole,
for uncle was fond of the fern, and often
explained to me its peculiar construction,
and made me bring him different kinds,
though he could only feel them, not see
them. He also taught me part of a poem
which he had about it, ^nd which he liked
dearly; and he used often to make me re¬
peat it for him." Here Grace's voice fal¬
tered.
" Can you repeat it for me now ?" asked
Miss Headley; and she did so, though not
without some effort:
" 0 the fern! the fern! the Irish hill fern,
That girds our blue lakes from Lough Ine* to Lough
Erne;
That waves on our crags like the plume of a king,
And bends, like a nun, over clear well and spring.
The fairy's tall palm tree, the heath bird's fresh nest,
And the couch the red deer deems the sweetest and
best,
With the free winds to fan it, and dew drops to gem,
0 what can you match with its beautiful stem ?
With a spell on each leaf that no mortal can learn,
0 there never was plant like the Irish hill fern."
• A singularly romantic lake in the county of Cork.
166
GRACE O'GARA.
" And I can show you the hit I brought
away for Uncle Randal's sake, miss. It is
a very scarce kind that botanists think a
great deal of," said Grace, and then pro¬
ceeded with her adventures.
They were neither many nor striking.
She had been now nearly two years residing
with her aunt in the neighboring town;
her situation—as Miss Headley learned in¬
cidentally, for Grace said little about it—
unlike as possible to what it had formerly
been. The family she was with had now
come to that place for two months; their
motive being the benefit of sea-bathing for
the children. Just before they left home
Mr. Richard Moore, who happened to have
some business at their town, had called to
see Grace, and rejoiced her by telling of
Mrs. Singleton's intended move to the same
place for the summer, saying he would not
acquaint Miss Headley with the nearness
of her former guide, that her pleasure at
the meeting might be increased by surprise.
Grace was on her way to visit Miss Headley
when they met.
" Dear Grace, I am truly glad to see
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 167
3rou," said Jane, when the story was con¬
cluded. " I trust your present situation is
a pleasant one, you look so cheerful. Pray
tell me if it is."
Grace seemed unwilling to answer, hut
being pressed, replied: " It is, even yet,
strange to me, Miss Headley, to be confined
so much, and to move only by rule; to me,
who was as free as the breeze that blew
over the heath on the mountain side, or the
wild sea-birds that I often watched skim¬
ming across Adrighoole bay. Still I have
been striving—and with God's help hope I
may succeed—to be able to say, as Paul
did, ' I have learned, in whatsoever state
I am, therewith to be content.'"
" It is a hard enough lesson to learn,"
observed Miss Headley. " But though you
may acquiesce in what God has appointed,
though you may feel even contented, can
you be happy when deprived of every em¬
ployment and recreation that you were
accustomed to, and have a relish for, as
must, I think, be your case ? The first day
that I ever saw you, Grace, in answer to
my question why you were happy, you re-
11
168
GRACE O'GARA.
plied that you were so because God was so
good, and because he loved you. I want to
know if you find this conviction sufficient
to make you happy still."
" I do, Miss Jane, I do indeed: I am
happy always; it is only just sometimes
that 1 may feel a little lonesome and sorry,
thinking of home and of those that are gone;
and my wicked heart would lead me to fret
about them ; but I ask God to help me not to
do 50. And, Miss Headley, I find it a very
good way to be as busy as I can, doing my
Master's business ; and that nothing else so
much keeps up one's spirits, and keeps out
discontented thoughts. Don't you remem¬
ber how he himself said to his disciples, 4 If
you know these things, happy are ye if ye
do them ?' Now this is quite true. It is
the way to be happy in our own minds to
be ever trying to do some little tiling for
Him who did everything for us; and dear
mother used to say it was good to have
those about us see that religion made us
happy."
These words went to Jane's heart. She
remembered what her aunt had said to her
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 169
that morning, and, thought she, " It is
there I have peculiarly failed. I have
given a false, an unfavorable impression of.
the religion I profess. Perhaps my little
guide may again help me to find, the right
path. Grace," she said, addressing her
companion, " your art of being happy re¬
minds me of a definition of happiness once
given me by my cousin, Mr. Bichard Moore.
He said it consisted in the right action of
the moral powers."
Grace seemed to consider these words for
a few moments, as if to get at their mean¬
ing. She then replied: " I understand' it,
ma'am. I am sure it is quite true. To
use all our powers in God's service.
Would not that be what is meant by their
right action, Miss Headley ? And if we
only could do that, s'hould we not be quite
happy.? Should we not be like the happy
angels that do his commandments, hearken¬
ing unto the voice of his word ?"
" You look as if you were so, Grace,"
said Miss Headley, glancing at the bloom¬
ing; and animated countenance of the
mountain girl. " It is well for you that
170
GRACE O'GARA.
you have time to do our Lord's work, to
employ your powers, mental and bodily, in
his service, which is their right action, and
in which happiness consists."
" Time, ma'am," Grace exclaimed, look¬
ing surprised. " Dear Miss Headley! surely
a Christian ought not to have time for any
other work."
Miss Headley, in her turn, seemed puz¬
zled. " Surely, Grace," she replied, " Chris¬
tians must attend to the necessary occupa¬
tions of life."
" To be sure, ma'am, that is what I meant;
for are not these things part of our Lord's
work, when he has appointed us to do them?"
" Grace," said Miss Headley, " I think I
shall understand you better if you give me
some idea of how you employ your time.
Will you do so?"
A few more interrogations drew forth an
answer to this inquiry. It appeared that
Grace O'Gara held, in her aunt's establish¬
ment, the double appointment of nursery-
governess and children's maid. While she
acted, in private, in the latter capacity to
the three children, their mother, Mrs. Don-
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 171
egan, expected that she should also instruct
them in the rudiments of various branches
of learning and accomplishments. In tell¬
ing this, Grace remarked : " I often think,
ma'am, how beautifully God manages every¬
thing for us, because he knows the end from
the beginning. Poor Uncle liandal taught
me many things that even mother thought
could never be of any use to me; and now
see how useful they are."
It seemed that Mrs. Donegan had an am¬
bition, not uncommon in Ireland, to give
her children an education above what was
suited to their station in life, and, if pos¬
sible, to make them ladies and gentlemen.
If she could, she would have had a French
governess, and the best of masters in music,
drawing, etc., to attend to them. But her
husband had not such aspiring views; he
would only allow them to receive instruc¬
tion in what was likely to be conducive to
their success in working their way through
the world as he had himself done. Mrs.
Donegan was therefore rejoiced when she
found that Grace knew how to read the
French language, which her grand-uncle
172 GRACE O'GARA.
had taught her, and her husband was pleased
to find Grace quite competent to the task of
teaching the elements of geography, history,
grammar, and other useful matters to her
young cousins. If the business of instruct¬
ing children, who were not remarkably well
disciplined, was ratber wearisome to the
young mountaineer, she was, she said, nearly
repaid by the privilege of having access to
a number of books calculated to impart
knowledge on various subjects with which
Uncle Kandal had given her some slight
acquaintance, so that she had often longed
for an opportunity of increasing it;* and
thus her stock of general information had
been much enlarged, and her mind strength¬
ened.
When questioned by Jane concerning the
improvement in her singing, she told her
that her aunt, having discovered that she
had a good voice, resolved to try and make
it the means of procuring the accomplish¬
ment of music for her own little girls. Ac¬
cordingly she persuaded her husband, who
was a kind-hearted man, that to enable
Grace O'Gara to cultivate her taste for the
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 173
art, would be the means of securing a pro¬
vision for the poor orphan, by fitting her
for the situation of governess, and he agreed
to procure her the instructions of a master.
Her progress was rapid, and she was soon
able to play an accompaniment to her voice
on the piano, with much taste and some
execution.
" Well, Grace," observed Miss Headley,
" you have told me of employments sufficient
to fill up almost your whole time. Weari¬
some enough you must find most of them.
But you were speaking of its being pleasant
to do the Lord's work. Now what time
have you for that ? or what is the work that
you have an opportunity of doing for him ?"
Grace colored, and remained silent for a
while. She then said: "Dear Miss Jane, I
should like, if you please, not to talk about
myself any more; only just to say, that 1
do little, 0 I might say nothing, for my
Lord. Indeed, I feel this in my heart, and
just tell it, for fear you are supposing that
I was meaning for one moment to set my¬
self up as an example of what was right.
O no, no! God forbid. What I meant
174
GRACE O'GARA.
was this, ma'am: dear mother often ex¬
plained to me that we are about our Master's
business while we are performing the duties
of the station that he has been pleased to
put us in. ' When we do them,' she said,
' not with eye-service, as men-pleasers ; hut
as the servants of Christ, doing the will of
God from the heart.' And she said, ma'am,
that the meanest or the most tedious duty
done this way was pleasant, and made us
feel that his yoke was easy and his burden
light."
" I understand you now, Grace; hut I
thought that the phrase, ' the work of the
Lord,' was applied to what is peculiarly cal¬
culated to promote the cause of true religion
in the world, such as schools, missions, and
things of that kind."
" Well, ma'am, I do believe that poor dear
TJncle Randal thought the very same when
first he was turned to believe the Bible, and
to ' rejoice in hope of the glory of God.' I
remember one evening that we were sitting
by the fire in our cottage at Adrighoole.
Well, Miss Headley, though it was a poor
place, the little parlor was snug, and we
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND.
175
■used to be very happy there ; but uncle was
talking of the wonderful love of God to sin¬
ners such as himself, in giving his Son to
die for them, till he began to cry, and cried
like a child. ' What ails you, uncle dear?'
mother said, 'sure 'tis rejoicing you ought
to be.' ' And so I am, Mary,' says he, ' but
I can't help being sorry for one thing. 0!
if I had but known the Lord's goodness to
me while I was young, and had my sight,
and was able to do something to serve him !'
and he cried again. ' Uncle,' says mother,
' is it that you think you could have de¬
served his goodness ?' ' No, no, Mary,' he
cried, ' how could a creature like me ever
do that? 0! sure I know better than to
think that. I trust I have not so learned
Christ. But I do so love him for his good¬
ness that it would be the joy of my heart to
serve him; but I did not seek him till the-
day when the keepers of the house tremble,
and those that look out of the windows be
darkened, and strength is so gone that the
grasshopper is a burden; and now I can do
nothing to show the love and the gratitude
I feel.'"
176
GRACE O'GARA.
Here Grace suddenly interrupted herself,
and asked, "Am I very bold, Miss Headley,
for talking so much to you, and all about
my own people? 0 ma'am, I was forget¬
ting how wrong it was for one like me to
do this, for I am so glad to meet a person
who knew my own dear mother and uncle,
and who was at Adrighoole, that indeed it
made me go on without remembering the
wide difference there is between a lady like
you and myself."
"No, no, Grace," said Jane. "I entreat
you to go on. I wish much to know what
your mother said on this,.and, indeed, on'
every other subject. I have heard the most
important truths from her lips, and I often
think how beautiful it was to hear one who
was entirely without the wisdom or the
learning of this world, but taught by the
Spirit of God through his word alone, speak
as she did. What did she say in reply to
your uncle ?"
" Well, ma'am, I can tell you exactly, for
I often thought of her words, and they have
been a great help to me since I came to live
with Aunt Donegan. She said she thought
TALK WITH AN OLD FRIEND. 177
thai God gave every one whom he called to
a knowledge of himself some way of serving
and glorifying him, if it were only to bear-
with patience and sweetness whatsoever he
appointed for them, which would recommend
religion to those about them whom it was
their duty to* warn and to direct to the
Saviour. ' Ah, hut, Mary,' uncle said, ' I
have not time nor opportunity for that.'
And mother answered : ' One would think,
sir, that the thief on the cross had not time
nor opportunity for it, hut still we find that
he had; for in the midst of cruel suffering
he not only showed his trust in the Lord's
goodness, but he rebuked his companion in
sin, and tried to direct him to the Man who
" had done nothing amiss," and was able
and willing to save his soul.' 4 True, true,
Mary dear,' cried Uncle Eandal, ' I see I
may do some little thing for him yet; and
I will, if I can, with his blessing.' And
from that time out, ma'am, not one word
of complaining did we hear from him about
being poor, or about being blind, which he
only mentioned to thank God, who had, if
he had closed his bodily eyes, enlightened
178
GRACE O'GARA.
the eyes of his understanding, that he' might
know what was the hope of his calling, and
what the riches of. the glory of his inherit*
ance in the saints.' Then, ma'am, instead
of being proud and high, he got to he as
mild as a little child ; and when any of the
neighbors wondered at the change that was
in him, he would tell them that he was try¬
ing to learn of One who was meek and low¬
ly ; and he would get mother or me to read
something out of the Bible for them, which
he would put into such beautiful Irish as
would delight them and make them anxious
to hear it again. You can't think how
cheerful and happy he grew, mp'am, 'trying
to do good to every one."
" Ha! the right action of the moral
powers in God's service—the receipt for
happiness!" said Jane.
It was now time for Miss Headley and
her humble friend to separate, which they
did not do till they had fixed on a day for
meeting again in the same place.
A case of conscience. 179
CHAPTER XII.
a case of conscience.
On Miss Headley's way home her thoughts
were much occupied by the conversation
that she had had with Grace O'Gara. " If,"
thought she, " the blind old man first, and
then this young girl, under a change of
circumstances greater than mine, and which
deprived them. of everything they were
accustomed to enjoy, still found happiness
in doing the Lord's will, and trying to re¬
commend his truth to their fellow-creatures,
why may not I? Surely I have deluded
myself in thinking that I had nothing to
do for my Saviour, because he did not suffer
me to work in the way that I had myself
planned. Dear Grace! she has, I trust,
enlightened my mind on this point. She
has been the means, since I first met her,
of guiding me through mists and dangers.
I thank God it is not too late to profit by
the hints I have received."
180
GRACE O'GARA.
The best manner of profiting by them
now employed her thoughts. The peculiar
duty of the situation in which God had
placed her was, she considered, to attend on
her aunt and minister to her comfort on
every occasion ; and this she had endeavored
to do, but not, as she now perceived, in a
right spirit. She remembered the words of
Grace's mother, that if the most ordinary
duties were performed, "' not with eye-
service, as men-pleasers, but as the servants
of Christ, doing the will of God from the
heart' it would be pleasant,, not wearisome,
to perform them and this she resolved,
with help from above, to do. Concerning
zeal for the spiritual good of others, she
remembered an answer which Grace O'Gara
had made when she asked, " Do you love
these children about whom you are so in¬
cessantly employed ? as that would lighten
the task."
" I am beginning to love them very
much, Miss Headley; but, you know, I
always loved their souls, and it does lighten
the task to hope, and to try, with God's
blessing, to lead these little lambs to
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 181
him who is the Shepherd and Bishop of
souls."
" And has such a hope," thought Jane
Headley, " lightened iny task while I have
been here? O no! If I had some faint
desire to serve my aunt and her acquaint¬
ances in this way, how have I been waiting
for a very convenient season ; quieting my
conscience by fancying any attempt to re¬
commend religious truth before such a
season occurred, would be injudicious.
Truly, ' he that observeth the wind shall
not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds
shall not reap.7"
These reflections were humbling but
salutary, leading her earnestly to seek for
help from above, and also for guidance, in
utter distrust of her own judgment; so
that she said from the heart the words of
Elihu: " That which I see not, teach thou
me: if I have done iniquity, I will do no
more/7
Such a prayer as this, when offered up
with humility and faith, can never be denied.
From this day it would seem as if Jane
Headley were acting on the poet's suggestion
182
GRACE O'GARA.
" Some high or humble enterprise of good
Contemplate, till it shall possess thy mind,
Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food.
Pray heaven for firmness thy whole soul to bind
To this thy purpose."
Her purpose was to recommend religion
to those about her, first by example and
then by precept, so far as she might be able
to speak a word in season, judiciously but
boldly, as she was given grace to do so.
This resolution was not new to her mind.
She had often made it before ,* and perhaps
there are few persons'who have not made
the same when brought by a knowledge of
Gospel truth to feel the immense value of
immortal souls. But to resolve and to act
are widely different matters, as she now ex¬
perienced, with a feeling of her own weak¬
ness that led her continually to seek help
from Him whose word graciously declares
that " the Lord will give strength unto his
people."
It is not our intention to detail the vari¬
ous ways in which a firm and prayerful ad¬
herence to this resolve influenced Jane Head-
ley's conduct and manner in the trifling
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 183
concerns of every-day life. No longer like
those who,
" Unfitted with an aim,
Meet every sad returning night
And joyless morn the same."
The object which she kept in view gave
an interest to these trifling concerns, and a
corresponding energy to her own mind,
which raised her spirits, so long depressed.
Her humble friend Grace O'Gara, whom
she contrived to see frequently, was her
counsellor on all occasions. In that young
girl's society Jane found, not only the com¬
fort and edification which " they who love
the Lord " experience, when they speak often
one to another of him and of his word ; but
likewise a degree of intellectual enjoyment
which did not always result from intercourse
with those whose opportunities of mental
culture were far different from such as had
'been the lot of the mountain guide. Jane
was often astonished at the avidity with
which Grace's mind received new ideas on
any subject, and the intelligence with
which it arranged them. Besides her pos¬
sessing a full share of that acuteness and
12
184
GRACE O'GARA.
tact which are peculiar to the genuine
Celt, the early instructions of old Randal,
desultory, and unsuited to her situation
in life as they seemed to he, had strength¬
ened her reasoning powers, and given an in¬
dependent method of judging, which was
now useful to her. Thus was Miss Headley
often reminded of Grace's own words, with
reference to her uncle's teaching, " How
beautifully God manages everything for us,
because he knows the end from the begin¬
ning."
These two young friends, whom the con¬
ventional usages of the world would have
separated, hut whose hearts were united by
the holy bond of love, often met, and walked
together in the woody parts of the demesne,
where their first interview had taken place.
These meetings were very pleasant-to both,
and they might truly be said to " take sweet
counsel together."
Miss Headley sometimes called with hooks,
which she lent her humble friend, at the
house where Grace's relatives lodged. On
two or three of these occasions it happened
that Grace was then taking a lesson from
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 185
the music-master, and Jane sat down to
listen till it was over. The teacher was a
pale, slight young man, with little in his
appearance to attract attention ; but when
he began to sing he displayed so much true
taste, and his voice was so uncommonly
sweet, that Jane fixed her eyes on his counte¬
nance, and it seemed to her that
" He who paused to look again,
Saw more than marks the crowd of vulgar men
great depth of thought and feeling being
indicated there, so that some curiosity and
interest were awakened in her mind for the
musician. Grace's abilities in the same
art have already been mentioned, and as
they sang together, Miss Headley thought
she had never listened to music so much to
her liking.
One day, while thus engaged, Grace's
aunt, Mrs. Donegan, suddenly entered the
room. The good woman seemed to be so
busy, and so bustling, as not to notice the
presence of Miss Headley, who was seated
rather behind the door. Addressing the
teacher, she exclaimed,
"0! Mr. Mac Namara, I wanted to see
186
GKACE 0'GAR.A.
you so much ; and you too, Gracey. Some
of our neighbors in town are coming to
spend next Sunday with us here, to enjoy
the sea air, and the pretty prospects. Now
Mr. Donegan and I are determined to make
them as pleasant as we can, so we are to go
boating, and to take a cold dinner to one of
the islands. All the quality do it, and
those we expect are quite genteel people,
most of them worth a deal of money. Now,
Mr. Mac Namara, we hope you will come
with us ; and you and Gracey can sing your
duets for them ; it would sound beautiful
on the water, and the Miss Keefes are great
judges of music. It will make my party a
delightful one: and, Mr. Mac Namara, who
knows what good it may bring you ? for I
have heard people say it was a pity you
kept so hack always, as your voice would be
thought a deal of if it were known."
This compliment, which did not seem to
proceed from a wish to flatter, but from a
really good-natured motive, had due effect.
Mr. Mac Namara made his best bow, and in
a bashful manner replied:
" Well, madam, if you desire, to be sure
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 187
I will do my best; though I am not used to
going to parties."
" O, delightful!" she cried, clapping her
hands; " and Grace, dear, your uncle says
I must get you a new dress for the business ;
you shall please yourself in it, and—"
Here Grace rose from the piano ; her face
expressed some agitation, and she said:
" Dear aunt, I am grateful to you, and to
my uncle; he is very kind. Do believe
me, I am sorry to disappoint you, but it is
not possible for me to go with the boating
party on Sunday."
Mrs. Donegan looked amazed. " Why,
Grace, what is come over you ? 0! I sup¬
pose it is your strict notions about religion ;
but they need not hinder your coming, as
we can all go to church first. In short,
you must come; we can't do without you.
Your uncle and I are your parents now;
and doesn't the Bible tell you to obey your
parents?"
Grace had now recovered her self-possess¬
ion, and there was an air of calm dignity
about her which seemed to show that she
would be steady to her purpose.
188
GRACE O'GARA.
" Indeed, it does, aunt," she replied,
" and I hope I shall always do so, only ex¬
cept when yon ask me to do contrary to
God's will, because the Bible says, ' we
ought to obey God rather than men.' "
" Contrary to God's will!" Mrs. Donegan
exclaimed. " O you ungrateful girl! would
you accuse us of such a thing? Did you
ever know us do anything contrary to God's
will ourselves, that we should try to make
you do so ? Answer me that."
" I will, aunt, since you desire me; but
it shall be in the words of Scripture. ' All
have sinned, and come short of the glory of
God.'"
" Don't preach," said her aunt, " but tell
me at once, will -you help me in this matter,
or will you not ?"
" Indeed, aunt, I will help you in every
way that I can. I can assist you on Satur¬
day with the preparations; and on Sunday
I can take care of the dear children while
you are out; but I cannot break the Sab¬
bath."
" And who wants you ?" cried Mrs. Done¬
gan, getting still more incensed. " Is not
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 189
the commandment against working on the
Sabbath? And did I ever ask you to do
that ? Don't answer now, for I won't listen
to your words."
" Well, aunt dear," Grace replied, per¬
fectly unruffled, and with one of her bright
smiles, which Jane thought no one could re¬
sist, " well, aunt dear, I know you will not
refuse to listen to God's words, and here
they are." She took up a Bible which lay
on a table near, and read aloud: " If thou
turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from
doing thy pleasure on my holy day; and
call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the
Lord, honorable; and shalt honor him, not
doing thine own ways, nor finding thine
own pleasure, nor speaking thine own
words: then shalt thou delight thyself in
the Lord; and I will cause thee to ride
upon the high places of the earth, and feed
thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father ;
for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it."
It has been said of quotations from the
Bible that they always attest and vindicate
their orgin. That all hearts vibrate more
or less strongly to their voice. If the con-
190
GRACE O'GARA.
duct of Grace's aunt on the present occasion
did not illustrate the truth of this remark,
that of her music-teacher seemed to do so.
As if forgetting his wonted shyness, he al¬
most unconsciously repeated, "' Calling the
Sabbath a delight.' That must he some¬
thing more than mere bodily rest. What
can it be ?"
But Mrs. Donegan interrupted his solilo¬
quy. "The short and long of the matter
is, Grace," she cried, " that you don't wish
to please me. Maybe, as one of the great
O'Garas of Ballymoreen, you are too grand
to keep company with my friends. Your
old turn-coat uncle put that, and other
strange notions, into your head, and then
left you a beggar for me to support. But
take care what you are about, that's all
and she left the room in much wrath.
Grace burst into tears, sobbing as if her
heart would break. Miss Headley ran to
her, took her hand, and whispered kind
soothing words, while the music-master
walked up and down with an agitated man¬
ner, muttering such expressions as " cruel!"
" tyrannical!" " vulgar vituperation!" to
GRACE OGAEA REFUSES TO BREAK THE SABBATH.
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 193
which Jane could'not help responding, " In¬
deed it is."
" No, no, dear Miss Headley; no, Mr.
Mac Namara," cried Grace, as soon as she
could command her voice. " My poor aunt
is not cruel. She has a great deal of good¬
nature, but she is passionate, and you know
the proverb says, ' He that is soon angry
dealeth foolishly.' 0 ! I am wrong to give
way so much, but it is very hard to hear
Uncle Eandal called names, and not to
feel it. He was the last in the world who
loved me, and—"
" No, no, Grace," interrupted Miss Head-
ley, u for I love you, I do indeed. Are we
not desired by our Lord to love one another ?
0 that I were able to prove it by actions!
and you should soon quit these people, who
say such hurtful things to you."
Grace wiped away her tears, and her
usual bright smile returned. "Thank you,
dear, kind Miss Jane," she said; " but it is
our Father who has settled all those things
for us, and sure he knows best."
" Certainly, Grace ; ' he doeth all things
well.' But what did your aunt mean by
194
GRACE O'GARA.
her concluding threat ? Can it he that she
thought of—of—?"
"Of turning me out? Yes, ma'am, it
was that she meant; hut I don't think she
will do it."
" But if she should, Miss Grace O'Gara ?"
said the music-master. And then, as if
greatly shocked at his involuntary inter¬
ference, he added : " I humhly beg pardon ;
I know I have no right to speak, hut if she
should, ma'am ?"
. Grace smiled, and replied, " If she should,
sir, the same hook that commands us to
keep the Sabbath from polluting it, enables
us to say, ' When my father and my moth¬
er forsake me, then the Lord will take me
up.'"
" It is a good hook, and a good religion;
but is it not hard to obey its command¬
ments?" Mr. Mac Namara inquired.
" No, sir, it is never hard to obey the
commands of one we love; and He who
gave us those died for us. Yes, Mr. Mac
Namara, ' while we were yet sinners, Christ
died for us.' Then, surely, we must ' love
him, because he first loved us.'"
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 195
""Yes, God is love," repeated Miss Head-
ley, in a low but emphatic tone.
"And is that also in the Bible, ma'am ?"
asked the musician, again forgetting his
ordinary reserve. " I ask pardon," bowing
low; " I am bold, far too bold to-day ; but
it is such a sublime, such a wonderful idea;
the Maker of that blue ocean, that glorious
sky, to be love, all love ? I could not but
ask, Is it in the Bible ?"
"It is, sir," replied Jane, "and I think
you will find the same beautiful truth per¬
vade the whole Scriptures."
" Thanks, ma'am, it is a wonderful
thought; I will try —" and he abruptly
took his departure.
" What an extraordinary being*," ex¬
claimed Miss Headley. " May he find this
truth, which I first attended to from your
lips, Grace, to the enlightenment of his mind.
I do think he intends to search for it."
" Poor man 1 I hope he may," answered
Grace. " Since he began to teach me music
I never heard him say so much, if it were
all together, as he has said to-day. He
seems to have a feeling heart."
196
GRACE O'GARA.
" Grace," said the young lady, " perhaps
you may he a guide to this person also,
and lead him ' to know the love of Christ,
which passeth knowledge,' as you did me."
" Indeed, I am not worthy to be made
useful to any one, Miss Jane," replied
Grace ; " hut dear mother's words come to
my mind and give me courage."
" What were they, Grace ?"
" Well, ma'am, one evening, not long
before she left us, she, Uncle Eandal, and
I were sitting under the large yew tree on
the hill side, just over our house. The sun
was shining beautifully on the water; 0
Miss Jane, the sea here is nothing to Ad-
righoole bay; and as I looked at the
shrubs, and the arbutus with its red ber¬
ries that grew 011 the rocks along the
shore, I asked who planted them all?
Uncle Eandal explained how the mountain
breezes, and the little wild birds, scatter
seeds among the clefts in the rocks,, where
they take root and grow, God watering
them with rain and dew from heaven ; and
he said that, very likely, the large yew
above our heads had sprung up in that
A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. 197
manner a long time ago. Then mother
said, ' Gracey dear, have yon any good seed
that you could scatter?' ' The seed of God's
word, mother,' I answered, ' hut what could
one like me do?' 'My child,' she said,
' would you he less useful in your way than
the breezes or the wild birds in theirs ? Do
as they do, Gracey. Sow the seed wherever
you can ; and be sure that, however young,
and poor, and mean you may be, God will
enable you to say, like Moses, " My doc¬
trine shall drop as the rain, my speech
shall distil as the dew, as the small rain
upon the tender herb, and as the showers
upon the grass: because I will publish the
name of the Lord." ' O ! it must be very
pleasant, Miss Headley, to sow that seed,
and to see God give it the increase. I
should like to be always doing it."
" Should you like to be a missionary,
Grace ?"
" More than anything in the world,
ma'am," the young girl replied with en¬
thusiasm.
Jane smiled. "Well, who knows but
God may see fit to eend you yet ? Mean-
198
GRACE O'GARA.
while may he forbid that, we should either
of us be, as your excellent mother said, less
useful than the breezes or the birds ; or
even the flowers, about which I met with a
few pretty lines this morning.
" Of all the flowers that bow the head,
Or gaze erect on sun or sky,
Not one there is declines to shed,
Or standeth up to qualify,
Her incense-meed.
Of all that blossom one by one,
Or join their lips in living cluster,
Not one hath now resolved alone,
Or taken counsel, that her luster
Shall be unknown.
So let thy soul a flower be,
To breathe the fragrance of its praise.
And blossom in its early days,
To Him who fosters thee."'
flowers under the snow. 199
CHAPTER XIII.
flowers under the snow.
Some days elapsed before Miss Headley
bad an opportunity of seeing her humble
friend, though she felt anxious to learn the
result of Mrs. Donegan's displeasure. At
last Grace and her young charge came
one morning, and while the children amused
themselves on the strand before the cottage
door, Grace sat at a window in Jane's apart¬
ment from whence she could watch their
movements. She informed that young lady
that her aunt's anger still continued una¬
bated, the more so as, on Sunday morning,
a message had come from the music-mas¬
ter, saying that a head-ache would prevent
his attending the boating party. Mrs. Don-
egan seemed to have put the blame of
this disappointment on her niece, and had
scarcely spoken to her since.
Grace made no comment on these par¬
ticulars, which were elicited from her by
200
GRACE O'GARA.
questions. "And do you still assert that
this woman is kind and good-natured ?"
inquired Miss Headley.
" Yes, ma'am; and you would say it
yourself if you had seen her when I was
ill, and the care she took of me. Then
sometimes she says I look like dear mother,
and she kisses me with the tears in her
eyes. O Miss Jane ! if you but knew how
pleasant that is. Somehow it always re¬
minds me of the fresh sea-breeze that I
have felt blow on suddenly when I was toil¬
ing up the side of Adrighoole on a hot sum¬
mer's day. It cheers my heart so, and puts
new life into me to go on my way, which
is, I own, a little weary sometimes."
Jane smiled. " It is true, indeed, Grace,
that words of love are pleasant and refresh¬
ing, even ' as the dew of Hermon, and as
the dew that'descended upon the mountains
of Zion.' Since we last met, I have thought
how thankful I ought to be that the relative
on whom I am depending is not such a per¬
son as your aunt. But now I do believe I
would rather endure such an eruption as
you are subject to, occasionally, than have
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 201
my path always chilled with ice and snow,
provided I could find one blossom of affec¬
tion to cheer my heart. You understand
what I mean ?"
Grace was too well versed in the highly
figurative poetry of her own ancient lan¬
guage, with which her uncle had made her
familiar, not to do so readily.
" Miss Jane," she replied, " there may be
fire under the ice, and flowers under the
snow. Surely Mrs.. Singleton must have
some heart, if you could only find out how
to get into it."
Jane shook her head doubtingly, and just
then the subject of their conversation came
into the room. Grace rose respectfully, but
the lady said:
" Please be seated, young woman, I will
not interrupt you long. Jane, I heard last
night from my servant of the' fisherman
who was drowned here, and that you had
visited his widow, who is ill, and very poor.
aWill you give her this when you see her
again?" presenting her niece with some
money.
" Thanks, dear aunt," cried Jane, in the
13
202
GRACE O'GARA.
joy of her heart, kissing the hand which
gave it. " I shall go-at once with your gift
—0 how gladly! for the poor woman is in
great want."
" There is no occasion for gratitude," said
Mrs. Singleton, cold and unmoved as usual.
" I have always known that it is our duty
to give alms sometimes, and I wanted a safe
way of sending it," and she left the room.
" Well, Grace, you have seen nothing to
indicate blossoms, underneath the snow?"
said Jane.
" I ana not sure of that, Miss Headley.
I cannot exactly tell why, but it seems to
me as if that poor lady might once have
had affection, and that it was chilled by
something—perhaps sorrow. Do you know
if she ever met with any great misfortune?"
" She lost a daughter, her only child,
several years ago," Jane answered ; " hut I
am not aware that she felt it to he a great
misfortune. I have never heard her make
the least allusion to it, and I had nearly
forgotten that such a person as my cousin
ever existed."
" Some people's sorrows lie too deep to he
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 203
seen, Miss Jane, and it may be the way with
poor Mrs. Singleton's. If it be so, you have
found the way into her heart."
It has been said that the instinctive judg¬
ments of women are often more to be relied
upon than the conclusions which men r&ach
by an elaborate process of reasoning, and
that, in judging of character, women trust
to instinct, not to reason, and, consequently,
are usually right. However this may be
the case when applied to the sex in general,
Miss Headley had often observed that her
humble friend from Adrighoole possessed
these instinctive perceptions to an uncom¬
mon degree. On various occasions she had
known Grace, as it were by a mere glance
of the mind or of the eye, draw a quick and
just conclusion concerning persons and
things of which she had been before totally
ignorant. That her judgment on the pres¬
ent occasion might prove equally correct,
seemed, as Jane thought over it, to be high¬
ly probable. The supposition threw an in¬
terest over Mrs. Singleton's character, with
which her niece's imagination had never be¬
fore been able to invest it.
204
GRACE O'GARA.
* " My poor aunt! perhaps I have wronged
her," thought Jane. " I set her down at
once as incapable of sympathy or feeling
herself, or of appreciating them in others ;
and my manner toward her being influenced
by this uncharitable decision, has probably
increased the evil which I lamented. If
dear Grace's acuteness, or, rather, the abun¬
dance of Christian charity in her heart,
which leads her to think no evil of any one,
he correct in this instance, I may yet find
access to my aunt's affections."
With a resolution to- try, to the best of
her ability, how far her young friend's sug¬
gestion agreed with facts, Jane and her
guide (as she still loved to call her) pro¬
ceeded to the dwelling of the fisherman's
widow, to present her aunt's donation.
Miss Headley had been two or three times
before to this house of mourning, and, in
ministering to the bodily wants of the sick
woman, had tried to speak God's message
of comfort to the soul. It was, however,
evident that though the widow listened with
attention, she understood very little of what
was said, owing to her imperfect acquaint-
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 205
ance with the English language. On the
present occasion Grace O'Gara read aloud
a short psalm in Irish at her bedside, and
when the sound of her native tongue reached
her ear, the poor sufferer raised herself on
her elbow, seeming to drink in God's words,
as if she had some idea that thej were, in
truth, " more to be desired than much fine
gold; sweeter also than honey and the honey¬
comb."
" That's beautiful! shall I hear it again,
mavourneen?"** she asked, in a faint tone;
and having promised that she should, the
friends separated, having fixed upon a day
to meet at the same place, for the purpose
of fulfilling this promise.
That evening Jane" Headley gave Mrs.
Singleton an account of her visit to the cot¬
tage of the widow; detailing trifling but
touching circumstances connected with it, in
a manner which she would not have thought
of doing until Grace's suggestion had
wakened in her mind a new idea of her
aunt's character. She concluded her little
narration by saying: " This poor woman is
0 My darling.
206
GRACE O'GARA.
very grateful for your gift. She is without
any means of support; still she did not once
refer to her destitution in that way; her
lamentation is that she is all' alone in the
world now, not having any one to love
her."
As Jane said these words she glanced at
her aunt's countenance. There was a change
visible in its expression. A flush on the
cheek, a tear in the eye, and a slight trem¬
ulous motion about the lip, which, though
quite transitory, indicated that, on hearing
of the widow's loneliness of spirits,
" Some chord in unison with what she heard
Was touched within her, and the heart replied/'
It was over in a moment, and Mrs. Single¬
ton said, in her wonted way, " She must
learn to live without love."
"Is not that a hard lesson to learn, my
dear aunt ?" inquired Jane, with a voice and
look of much tenderness.
" Perhaps so," was the reply, while Mrs.
Singleton appeared quite engaged with her
knitting; hut Jane observed that the hand
which held it trembled; and in a few
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 207
moments after the tear's were dropping
upon it." -
" 0 how I have wronged my poor aunt!"
thought Miss Headley. " What little dis¬
cernment I have shown ! But that signifies
nothing, compared with the want of Chris¬
tian charity which I have evinced. 0 how
I have wronged her !"
This conviction caused deep regret and
self-reproach. Ever ready to act on the im¬
pulse of the moment, Jane caught the hand,
kissed off the tears that wetted it, and ex¬
claimed :
" Why need we try to learn such a lesson ?
I am certain that you know—you feel—that
there is no happiness without loving and
being loved; and why should we try to do
without it?"
Mrs. Singleton looked surprised at this
burst of feeling, but not displeased. She
replied: " But suppose we have no one to
love us ?"
" We cannot for a moment suppose it,
dearest aunt," said Jane. " We are assured
that He who made us, and who rules our
destiny in everything, loves us. He has
208
GRACE O'GARA.
proved it by the gift of his beloved Son to
die for us ; and if we do only believe—real¬
ize to our minds this wonderful proof, a
gracious principle or habit will he wrought
in the soul by God, leading us to delight in
his favor, and disposing us to love others,
especially those who serve God and bear his
image. This feeling will he a source of
happiness within us, such as the world can¬
not give or take away,"
Jane now recollected how her aunt had
checked her when she spoke on these sub¬
jects on a former occasion ; and she paused
suddenly. She felt much relieved when
that lady answered:
" Well, niece, you have, of late, looked as
if you really had some source of happiness
within you, with which I must be unac¬
quainted, for—I am not happy."
Delighted with such a mark of confidence
as this confession, Jane cried: " You will be
happy, dear aunt; I hope and trust you
will. You will seek and find God in the
Gospel of his Son,
' Where love in all its glory shines,
And truth is drawn in fairest lines
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 209
and you will be happy in that love. But
as even human affection can. contribute to
our happiness, will you not, dear aunt—my
mother's sister—will you not let me love
you, and try to be to you as a daughter ?"
" A daughter!" repeated Mrs. Singleton,
almost starting at the word. " Well, Jane,
you do look a little like Jier sometimes,
especially of late ; and I—but it is time to
prepare for dinner." And she leftdhe room.
This conversation was not resumed, and
though a looker-on might have supposed
that these two relatives went on together
much as they had hitherto done, Jane ob¬
served a degree of softness in her aunt's
manner toward her not existing heretofore;
while her own was influenced, not by a mere
sense of duty, but by a desire to repair the
wrong she had done that lady in concluding
her to be incapable of tenderness. Not
many days had gone by after Jane's dis¬
covery of the erroneousness of this impres¬
sion, when Mrs. Singleton was attacked with
a low fever. It is scarcely necessary to say
that her niece did not miss the opportunity
of manifesting the' kind feelings cherished
210
GRACE t>'GARA.
in her heart for that lady, and which soon
grew not only into pity and sympathy, hut
into affection.
While the poor invalid's mind wandered,
she thought that the person who watched.
day and night beside her bed, and attended
to all her wants, was her daughter; con-.
stantly calling her Charlotte, and asking
why she had stayed away from her for so
lone- a time. When reason returned she
©
recognized her niece, and showed gratitude
for all her kindness, concluding by saying:
" You may read the Bible to me every
day, Jane. I was wrong in refusing to let
you do so when you offered; but 1 have now
seen the good effect of your religion on your
mind. How cheerfully and kindly have you
nursed one who never showed you anything
but coldness !"
From this time a confidential intercourse
was established between them, conducive to
the happiness of both. Mrs. Singleton, being
satisfied that she had found one who could
•understand and sympathize in her sorrow,
now often gave utterance to the feelings so
long pent up in her heart, and which, as she
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 211
once told Jane, she had before resolved to
bear silently while she lived, without troub¬
ling any one about them. She was never
weary of speaking of the beloved child she
had lost; and her niece was never weary of
listening; at the same time taking every
opportunity of directing the mourner to Him
who is emphatically called the God of con¬
solation.
Before .Mrs. Singleton had recovered the
effects of her illness, the autumn was far
advanced, and the journey home being con¬
sidered hazardous for one in her delicate
state, it was decided that she should remain
at the bathing place for the winter. This
was rather a dreary prospect for Miss
Headley, as the summer sojourners were all
dispersed ; and, among others, Mrs. Done-
gan and her family were gone back to the
town, which was two miles distant. Jane
and Grace O'Gara had now few opportuni¬
ties of meeting, to their mutual regret.
Still the former did not find the time pass
tediously. Some " humble enterprise of
good" now ever engaged her mind; and
even when success did not appear to crown
2.12
GRACE O'GARA.
her efforts, she experienced the truth of the
proverb, " He that watereth shall he water¬
ed also himself." With respect to her aunt,
however, there was no disappointment.
Day by day it was evident that this lady
was indeed one " whose heart the Lord
opened, that she attended unto the things
which were spoken " by his servants in his
word.
Winter was at last at an end.
" Spring, the jocund queen of new-horn flowers,
Bathed in light fragrant airs and sunny showers,"
had come again. It was many weeks since
Jane had seen her humble friend, and one
morning she, availed herself of the occasion
of a drive into the town to call at Mrs.
Donegan's for the purpose. Once more
seated beside Grace in the little school¬
room, Jane related the pleasant change
which had taken place in her intercourse
with her aunt, and her conviction that the
Lord had, in his mercy, given that afflicted
lady not only " everlasting consolation,"
but " good hope through grace." "And to
you, iny dear little guide, as I have found
you to be on many occasions," continued
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 213
the young lady, " to you I am indebted for
that glimpse into a heart which I had so
uncharitably j udged. You were the means,
under God, of leading to these gratifying
results. I trust there has been an increase
to the comfort of your own situation here,
brought about in the same manner as
mine."
I
But though Grace looked very happy
when she heard all that Miss Headley re¬
lated, she had nothing similar to tell in re¬
turn. Mrs. Donegan was still absorbed in
the concerns of the world, and always ex¬
pressed great displeasure when her nicee's
steady adherence to Scriptural principles in¬
terfered with her own amusements, or am¬
bitious desires to be considered fashionable
and genteel. In short, the poor girl, though
not fond of complaining, found her situa¬
tion so abounding in unavoidable conflicts,
that she acknowledged her desire to quit it
if she could find another, more suitable, in
which she might earn her bread. She was
now seeking to discover what it was her
duty to do In this matter, and entreated
Miss Headley to advise her when she had
214
GRACE O'GARA.
thought over it; and, above all, to ask their
heavenly Father that she might have guid¬
ance from above.
" But, Miss Jane," she continued, her
countenance brightening as she spoke, " I
also have mercies to tell of, and something
pleasant to relate. Do you remember Mr.
Mac Namara, the music-master ?"
" Certainly," replied Jane. "Who could
hear the tones of his melodious voice and
forget them ?"
" Well, ma'am, I do believe that he has
learned a new song, that which no man
can learn but those who are redeemed from
the earth."
" Poor man ! I am glad to hear it," said
Jane. " By what means was this effected ?"
" By means of God's word, ma'am."
Grace then told, what she had herself heard
only a few days before, that the music-mas¬
ter had been so much impressed by the ref¬
erence to the passage in Isaiah lviii, on a
right observance of God's holy day, which
was made when Grace declined attending
the Sabbath party, that he commenced a
perusal of the prophet's writings. Attract-
FLOWERS UNDER THE SNOW. 215
ed by the literary beauties, of which he had
a keen perception, he had gone on with the
study of Scripture till he saw and appreci¬
ated the divine truth it reveals. His faith,
as must ever be the case when faith is gen¬
uine, .soon led him to seek diligently to
know his Lord's will on every occasion, that
he might do it. Former habits, inconsist-
* ••
ent with Scriptural precepts, were laid aside.
He no longer polluted the Sabbath ; he
would not any more attend convival parties
for the purpose of singing songs which now
appeared to him unsuited to a Christian's
lips: nor would he instruct pupils in such.
By means of all this, his pecuniary resour¬
ces were greatly diminished. He had never,
all this time, opened his mind to any per¬
son. " But," as he at length said to Grace
O'Gara, when he told her of the change in
all his views, " his word was in mine heart
as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and
I was weary with forbearing, and I could
not stay." So he made a confidant of her,
concluding, from what he had observed on
various occasions, that she loved God and
sought to follow his precepts, and conse-
216
GRAOE O'GARA.
quently could understand him better than
any one else with whom he was acquainted.
Such news as this, which makes the
angels in heaven to rejoice, must ever he
glad tidings to those who, having been
themselves once " aliens from the common¬
wealth of Israel, and strangers from the
covenants of promise," are, through the
mercy of God, " made nigh by the blood of
Christ." • The two young women, with
thankful hearts, conversed about this new
instance of their Lord's goodness, taking
encouragement from it to persevere, each in
her humble sphere, in recommending the
inspired word to the attention of their fellow
sinners.
a visitor.
217
CHAPTER XIV.
a visitor.
Summer came, and with it Mrs. Donegan
returned to the sea, having persuaded her
husband that sea-bathing was again neces¬
sary for the children. The vicinity "of Miss
Headley to Grace was a source of mutual
enjoyment; they often met, and visited the
poor together, devising and executing plans
for ministering to their temporal and spirit¬
ual necessities.
Mrs." Singleton seemed to make prog¬
ress in the knowledge and love of God's
truth; and, in her unimpassioned manner,
but evidently with interest, listened to her
niece's account of the little works of kind¬
ness in which she was engaged, and often
assisted "her in forwarding them. All this
had the effect of renovating Jane's health
and spirits, and furnished a proof of the cor¬
rectness of theopinion, thathappiness attends
right action proceeding from love to God.
14
21S
GRACE O'GARA.
One day Jane and her humble friend, hav¬
ing met at the cabin of the fisherman's
widow, and read for her a portion of those
words of which He who spoke them said,
"They are spirit and they are life," walked
for a while on the strand. Grace appeared
rather dejected, and being kindly question¬
ed as to the cause, was forced to acknowl¬
edge that her situation had become vei-y
uncomfortable, " My aunt," she said, " is
more angry with me than ever for not go¬
ing with her to parties, to sing; particular¬
ly on Sundays ; and you know, Miss Jane,
that I cannot do."
" Certainly not."
" Then," continued Grace, " my poor aunt
blames me for the change in Mr. Mac Na-
mara, because it was something which I said
that first led him to read the Bible ; and
his acting on what he learned there has
brought bim to great distress."
" Surely, Grace," Miss Headley replied,
" you must feel happy in having been ever
so remotely instrumental in leading a fellow
sinner to the knowledge of saving truth."
"I humbly hope I am thankful for it,
A VISITOR.
219
ma'am; still I cannot but feel this poor
man's trials, which are now increased. The
gentlemen of the town and neighborhood
have brought hither another person, who,
though far inferior to Mr. Mac Namara as
a musician, having none of his conscientious
scruples, will sing at their convivial parties,
and not refuse to teach the young ladies
songs distasteful to the renewed mind of a
Christian. This has ruined our former
teacher, and though it is quite plain he feels
the truth of St. Peter's words : ' If ye suffer
for righteousness' sake, happy are ye,' still,
Miss Headley, it is very trying to see his
poor old mother sick, and he unable to sup¬
ply her even with the trifling comforts he
used hitherto to provide for her. Under all
this it is beautiful to witness how this Chris¬
tian is supported by simple faith in the
promises of our Lord ; and I do believe he
literally ' takes no thought for the morrow,'
so deeply is his mind engaged in seeking
' the kingdom of God and his righteousness,'
and so fully does he trust his heavenly
Father to send whatever is needful."
" It is beautiful," said Jane ; " and I be-
220
GRACE O'GARA.
lieve such simple confidence is seldom found
in one so lately brought to a knowledge of
Gospel truth."
" 0 that thought often shames me, Miss
J'ane !" cried Grace, " when I am cast down
at the notion of being in some strange place,
homeless and friendless. I who have known
the Lord's goodness and faithfulness since I
was a little child ; I that have so often
heard my blessed mother say: ' Why should
we for one moment he uneasy about any¬
thing ? Surely " He that spared not his
own Son, hut delivered him up for us all,
how shall he not with him also freely give
us all things ?" ' "
" Well, then, Grace, let us trust him, that
he will provide for you, and also for this
poor Mac Namafa; meanwhile using all
means within our power for putting you
in the way of helping yourselves. You
know we are desired to he ' not slothful in
business,' even while with fervor of spirit
we serve the Lord. Probably your musical
abilities will, in this way, provide for you
both ; but who is that gentleman on the
cliff beckoning for us to wait on him ? Can
A VISITOR.
221
it be? O yes; it is my cousin, Richard
Moore !"
So it was. He soon overtook them ; and
when the first affectionate greetings between
the cousins were over, and Jane had heard
the pleasant news that his mother's health
was improved, and the -family about to re¬
turn home, she said: " Do you not recognize
my companion, Richard ? she is an old ac¬
quaintance of yours."
He fixed his eyes on Grace for a few mo¬
ments. " Is this really our little mountain
guide, Grace O'Gara, of Adrighoole, trans¬
formed into a woman ? I am truly glad to
see you. Ghanged in many things, doubt¬
less ; still, from your look, I do hope and
think that intercourse with the world has not
altered the mind since we first met, and I
used to apply the words of the old song to you:
' 0! Gracey bawn was innocent,
And wild as any roe;
Her cheeks was like the summer's rose;
Her neck was like the snow.
' Among the hills and mountains
Above her mother's home,
The long and weary summer day
Young Gracey bawn would roam.
222
GRACE O'GARA.
' And not a girl in all the plain,
From Dliua to Glanher;
Could wander through the mountain heath,
Or climb the rocks with her.'"
" 0 Mr. Richard, those were happy times,"
said Grace, while her eyes swam in tears.
" And I don't think there is any earthly
pleasure I so much wisK to enjoy as, once
more, to ' wander through the mountain
heath,' and climb the wild rocks of my own
beautiful native home."
" Ha ! I see you are unaltered in these
tastes, Grace, and so much the better,"
said Richard. Then fixing his eyes on her,
while his countenance assumed a serious ex¬
pression, ho continued: "But, my good little
girl, I trust you are unchanged, 'also, in
things of more importance. You do not for¬
get the lesson your poor mother taught you
out of God's word, though it is sometimes a
hard one to put in practice, 'Whatsoever
state you are in, therewith to,be content.' "
" I trust not, sir. I ought not; for though
I have found some changes not pleasant, yet
surely I can say, ' Goodness and mercy have
followed me all the days of my life.' "
A VISITOR.
223
It was now tim£ for Grace to return, and
when she was gone, Jane said : " You are as
lively as ever, dear cousin ; still there was
a seriousness in the last words you addressed
to Grace, that, I will own, rejoiced as well
as surprised me."
" Yes, Jane, you rejoiced because you in¬
ferred from them that I had learned to set
something of its true value upon the word
of God, and most thankful am I to say that
you are not mistaken. Our visits to the
cottagers at Adrighoole, and the conversa¬
tions between us which they occasioned, led
me to 4 search the Scriptures,' and, as I
humbly hope, therein have I found that
Saviour of whom they testify. But you say
I am as lively as ever. And why not, dear
cousin ? Is it not written, ' Let the heart
of them rejoice that seek the Lord.' You
and I, Jane, have sometimes philosophically
discussed the question of what is happiness ?
and how is the way to be happy ? I trust
we have found their solution in the Bible."
This was, indeed, pleasant news for Jane
Headley, particularly as Kichard was en¬
abled to add that his sister's mind had also
224 GRACE O'GARA.
been opened gradually to understand the
Scriptures. " How true it is," she said,
" that important events are often suspended
upon those which seem of least moment!
Our choosing little Grace O'Gara to be our
guide at Adrighoole may appear one of
those, and still shall we not bo thankful for
it through all eternity ?"
This led Eichard to make inquiries con¬
cerning Grace's present position, which Jane
answered by giving an account of it, includ¬
ing a short history of the poor music-master,
to which he listened with much interest.
The cousins had a good deal to hear and to
tell. Louisa's absence on the Continent, and
Eichard's having been entirely occupied by
study, preparatory to taking out a medical
diploma, made the interchange of letters be¬
tween them of rare occurrence.
" I was happy to find myself at liberty to
visit you, Jane, on my return from Scotland,"
said Eichard ; " and on inquiring for you to¬
day at Mrs. Singleton's, that lady, when she
learned who I was, kindly invited me to re¬
main a few days. I mean then to proceed
to the beautiful shores of the west, not many
A VISITOR.
225
miles from where we first met our little
guide. Nor is it unlikely that I shall final¬
ly settle there as a physician, for which, you
know, I am now qualified. An invitation
has been given me to do so, under circum¬
stances which seem advantageous; and I
have other reasons for wishing it. First, he
who has there devoted himself to the min¬
istry of the Gospel, is a zealous servant of
our Lord. He kindly wishes me to go, as
he says that a physician, who would be a
fellow-laborer with him in spiritual as well
as temporal things, might, with God's bless¬
ing, be extremely useful. Then, this pari
of Ireland agrees so much with my mother,
that all the family would come to reside
with me. You know, also, Jane, that I love
that wild country, and the primitive race
who inhabit it; and should deem it a great
pleasure to minister even to the wants of
their bodies*; how much more, then, to those
of their immortal souls, if such a one as I
might hope to be deemed worthy of the
privilege. To commence my career thus,
though not a brilliant prospect according to
the notions of the world, seems to me a most
226 GRACE O'GARA.
providential arrangement; and I trust I
shall have cause to say, ' Surely the lines
have fallen unto me in pleasant places.'"
"I trust so, dear cousin," replied Jane,
" and I feel inclined to envy you. Poor
Grace, were she capable of so wrong a feel¬
ing, would be still more likely to do it, so
fondly does her heart cling to the
' Land of green heath and shaggy wood;
Land of the mountain and the flood.'
But she is more likely to wear away the
days of her youth in the dingy atmosphere
of a town, without either society or employ¬
ment congenial to her feelings."
" My cousin," said Richard, " I trust that
Grace O'Gara and you, too, have learned
to believe that your heavenly Father chooses
your position, not only with wisdom but
with love. We shall move at once, if I find
circumstances likely to suit; and I am going
to proceed westward, and examine them
when I have enjoyed a few days of my
Cousin Jane's society."
These few days were most agreeable to
both these young people, now that they were
A VISITOR.
227
quite agreed on the most important of all
subjects, and could take sweet counsel to¬
gether, walking to the house of God as
friends. It was evident that Mrs. Singleton
likewise enjoyed Richard's visit. Since the
light of divine truth had dawned upon that
lady's mind, its invariable consequence, the
love of God shed abroad in the heart, had
given kindness and consideration for the
comfort of others to her manners, though
they still retained much of their former im-
passiveness. She liked to hear the cousins
converse about the Scriptures, often asking
questions on such subjects which young-
Moore was well qualified to answer.
On one occasion she gladdened Jane's
heart by saying: " I believe there is no real
happiness in this world but what is to he
found in religion. Even when I had my
child—my dear child—with me, the thought
that she might be taken from me, or I from
her, was always in my mind. Well, she
was taken, and I tried the outward forms
of religion to comfort me ; but they did not
do. I then tried amusement and visiting;
it was in vain. But Jane led me to the re-
228
GRACE O'GARA.
ligion of tlie Bible, and the Saviour whom
it reveals. That is the way to be happy.
I thank you, Jane."
This was a great deal from such a person
as Mrs. Singleton, and caused pleasure and
thankfulness to those who heard her.
Jane found her cousin an able auxiliary
in her benevolent visits to the poor people
about her. As a medical man, he was often
able to relieve their bodily suffering, which
excited feelings that induced them to listen
readily while he tried to make them sensible
of their spiritual wants, and to lead them
to the great Physician of souls. On one of
these excursions, they met Grace O'Gara,
who was on her way to take leave of them,
as Mrs. Donegan and her family were to re¬
turn next day to their town residence, where
Grace was to stay with them until they had
got some person to supply her place in taking
care of the children, and till a suitable situ¬
ation was found for herself, on which sub¬
ject both Miss Headley and her cousin had
written to several of their acquaintances.
The three young friends, walking together
on the cliffs, observed a ship apparently just
A VISITOR.
229
ready to get tinder weigh, at a pier, on
which was assembled a crowd of people.
" It is an emigrant vessel bound for Ameri¬
ca," said Richard; "doubtless containing
some of the strong and able of our popula¬
tion, who are-obliged to leave their native
soil untilled, either to have their labors tol¬
erably requited on a foreign shore, or that
they may have the power to worship and
serve God through the one Mediator, Jesus
Christ, free from the denunciations of priests
and the persecution of their followers."
The little party advanced to part of the
cliff just over the pier, from whence they
could view the scene beneath. " How sor¬
rowful the friends who are staying behind
appear !" observed Jane.
" Yes," replied Richard, " and though
emigration is now, unhappily, so common as
not to be deemed the formidable business
which it once was, still there is, amid all
the bustle and excitement of embarkation,
an expression of great sadness in the counte¬
nances of those poor people who are leaving
the land of their birth forever. True it is,
that ' if ever there was a nation that clung
230
GRACE O'GARA.
to the soil, and earned patriotism by the
love of the very ground they walk on, it is
the Irish peasantry.'" And these words
were soon verified by what followed.
The wind and tide were favorable; the
captain was impatient, and the names of the
passengers being now called over, it appeared
that one was missing. The party on the
cliff heard the captain declare that he
" would not wait a moment for the fellow,"
and the other passengers entreating that he
would have a little patience. But prayers
and entreaties were all in vain ; the sailors
were in the act of hauling the last plank on
board, when the missing passenger was seen,
rushing breathless through the crowd toward
the ship, carrying in his hands a little green
sod, which he had just cut from one of the
neighboring fields, arid he shouted, " Well,
with the blessing of God, I'll have this over
me in the new country."*
" It is Jack Doolan, cried Grace; but just
as she made the exclamation he gave a
spring to get on board. It was too late;
the raised plank hit him on the forehead,
0 A fact.
A VISITOR.
231
threw him hack, and he fell senseless on the
pier. Richard Moore sprang down the cliff,
and his companions followed quickly by a
more circuitous path. Poor Doolan had
been lifted from the ground by some of the
people on the pier. He was still senseless,
his head bleeding profusely. The nearest
house was the cottage of Jane's prot£g£,
the fisherman's widow, and hither he was
borne, according to the directions of Rich¬
ard, who, having announced himself to
he a physician, had his orders implicitly
obeyed.
Having examined the wound, and dis¬
patched a messenger to the town for the
necessary remedies, the doctor declared that
it was of importance to keep the patient
very quiet till their arrival. He was laid
in the best bed the cottage afforded, and
Grace, seated beside him, declared she would
not trust her old friend to the care of any
one hut herself, requesting Dr. Moore and
Miss Headley to call at her aunt's on their
way home, and to account for her absence
by telling what had occurred. This service
they performed, leaving a message with
232
GRACE O'GARA.
Mrs. Donegan's servant, as her mistress had
gone out.
In the evening the cousins returned to
the sick man, who had been in an uneasy
sleep during their absence. When the reme¬
dies, now arrived from the town, were ad¬
ministered, he seemed to revive. Opening
his eyes, he looked at those about him till
they fixed on Grace O'Gara, whom he recog¬
nized, smiling faintly, and saying, " Is that
little Gracey, from Adrighoole, here in
America ? Or is it in America that I am ?"
"It is Gracey/' she replied, bending over
him; " and I will take care of you, and do
all that I can for you, Jack; hut you must
keep.quiet now, and to-morrow I shall tell
you where we are."
" Ohonfi! I know that I am far from
home anyhow," he murmured, in Irish ;
for where are the wife and the children ?
Thank God, Gracey is here. The voice of a
friend in a strange land is like the low
sweet moan of the wood-quest that I loved
to listen to in the wood at home." And he
fell into a tranquil sleep.
Miss Headley and her cousin having made
A VISITOR.
233
airangements for Grace's comfort, while she
watched by the invalid all night, left,her.
On the following morning the doctor pro¬
nounced that he was going on favorably,
and if inflammation did not set in, his re¬
covery might he expected ; hut that, to avert
this danger, great care and quietness were
necessary.
" Then I shall remain with him certainly,"
said Grace. " He was kind to dear mother
and uncle when they were ill; and to me,
also, when they were gone; and you know,
Miss Jane, it is written in the hook which
we ought to go by, ' Thine own friend and
thy father's friend forsake not.' "
1
234
grace o'gara.
CHAPTER XV.
new trials.
When the cousins returned in the even
ing they found Grace sitting at the kitchen
fire. Her eyes were red, and it was evident
that she had been weeping. " Is poor Doolan
worse?" Jane inquired, on perceiving it.
No; he was better; hut a few questions
drew from her the cause of her tears.
Mrs. Donegan had called in the morning,
to insist on Grace's returning with her to
the town. She could not manage the chil¬
dren, nor make the move without her help.
She could not understand why the comfort
of a poor wretched peasant, such as Doo¬
lan, should for one moment interfere with
her own ; and upbraiding Grace with in¬
gratitude to those who had taken her in
when she was homeless and friendless^
threatened to cast her off forever the mo¬
ment she decided on refusing obedience to
her wish.
NEW TRIALS.
235
" O ! Miss Headley," said poor Grace,
" my aunt said so much, and frightened me
so terribly by talking of my desolate situa¬
tion if she casts me off, that, for a few min¬
utes, I thought of going with her, and leav¬
ing Jack to the widow's care. Then I knew
that if I did so all the neighbors would he
crowding in, as is their custom, and disturb
him, which the doctor said would probably
cost him his life ; so I just thought," What
is my duty ? Let me do that, and leave the
rest to God.'"
"All the sophistry of this world's wisdom
could not have led you to a better resolu¬
tion, Grace," said Eichard Moore. " Have
we not this gracious promise in his word:
' In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he
shall direct thy paths ?' "
The three young Christian friends sat
conversing for a while by the lowly hearth
of the fisherman's widow, while she watched
in a little inner room beside the sick man,
who slept. They were not long thus en-
u'aged when the latch of the cabin door was
O &
raised, and a tall figure entered. It was
Mr. Mac Namara, the music-master. He
236
GRACE O'GARA.
seemed overwhelmed with confusion on per¬
ceiving the cousins, and tried to stammer
forth an apology for his unseasonable in¬
trusion, as he called it. They obliged him
to be seated, and he continued : " I beg par¬
don ; did not think the lady and gentleman
would he here so late. It was Miss Grace
I came to see. Excuse me, pray."
" Do not distress yourself, sir," said Dr.
Moore. Miss Headley and I are the sincere
friends of Grace O'Gara, and in her confi¬
dence ; so that probably our presence need
not prevent any communication you have
to make to her."
" Thanks, sir, thanks," replied the mu¬
sic-master, making his awkward how. " I
came, Miss Grace, to tell you—to let you
know, Miss—that I saw your aunt, Mrs.
Donegan, after she returned to the town to¬
day. She seemed very apgry with you, he-
cause you remained here to nurse a person
who once showed kindness to you and to
your people, the very same poor man I
heard of yesterday, who loved our country
so dearly, that he was hearing with him a
portion of her green turf to place over his
NEW TRIALS.
2-37
grave in the west. 0 Miss Grace! you
were right not to desert him, and God will
bless you for it; and so I could not help
telling Mrs. Donegan, and she was angry
with me then, and said, Iliad the same wild
notions about religion as yourself; that we
should both starve for them, and that you
were now, through your own folly, as she
called it, without house or home, or a shil¬
ling in the world. O Miss Grace, however
sad it was to le^rn this, it was very pleas¬
ant to remember the words, 'If ye suffer
for righteousness' sake, happy are ye.'"
"Ah ! Mr. Mac Namara," Grace answer¬
ed, "my sufferings have been very slight
indeed, not worthy to be spoken of this way,
sir ; but I am glad you approved of what I
did in this matter."
" To be sure I did, Miss," replied Mac
Namara, who seemed to have forgotten his
bashfulness in the zeal of his admiration
for the affecting instance of Doolan's patri¬
otism, but all his confusion now returned
as he added : " I did not come to tell you
that, Miss Grace. My opinion is not much
matter. I came—I came—with a message
238 GRACE O'GARA.
from my mother, miss. We have but a
poor place, but there is a little room you
could have. I have some pupils still, Miss
Grace; and if you would take shelter with,
us till you could get some situation, why, I
■am sure I could manage to—to—"
In pity to his embarrassment Richard
Moore interrupted him. " Excuse me, sir,
I have happened to hear the trying circum¬
stances in which you have been placed by
your adherence to what you thought right,
and I felt for you; which I would not refer
to but for the purpose of letting you know
that I can appreciate the extent of your
kindness to this orphan girl. It is noble."
" Noble ?" repeated the musician, with a
look of unaffected surprise. " O sir, don't
say that. Is she not a lamb of our dear
Shepherd's flock—one for whom he laid
down his life ? and should we not do what is
but a very little thing to help her ? Is she
not a branch of that mighty vine of which
He is the root and the stem ? Does he
not, as a writer says, know the minutest
fibers of sorrow in the branches, so that,
when the pruning knife touches them, it
NEW TRIALS.
239
touches him? and shall we not feel for
one another ? More than that, sir, it was
through means of Miss Grace that I was
first brought to know him, and might she
not say to me in the words of Paul, ' If we
have sown unto you spiritual things, is it
a great thing if we shall reap your carnal
things?'"
Eichard Moore could not help smiling at
the fervor of his manner, though much
pleased with the feeling of love toward the
Saviour from which it evidently arose.
Miss Headley, perceiving that her young
friend, Grace, was too much depressed and
agitated to reply, said: " The doctor thinks
it will be necessary to watch our patient
parefully for a few days longer, Mr. Mac
Namara, and I am certain Grace will not
leave him till then. By that time she can
have considered your truly kind offer, and
come to some decision as to her future pro¬
ceedings. Meanwhile you may be sure of
my taking care of her." He thanked Miss
Headley,' and departed.
" There seems to be a simplicity and sin¬
gleness of mind in that poor man's devo-
240
GRACE O'GARA.
tion to his newly-found Saviour which it is
refreshing to witness," observed our young
physician to his cousin, as they walked
home. " When he begins to speak of re¬
deeming love, his awkwardness and bash-
fulness both vanish, and he becomes quite
eloquent."
" Yes," Jane replied, " I have noticed the
change in his manner when he touches on
such subjects. I have often thought that
true religion in the heart must produce,
some degree of refinement in the mind and
manners, and that St. Paul was a far bet¬
ter teacher of good breeding than Lord
Chesterfield."
" If politeness be, what I have heard it
defined, ' benevolence in trifles,' he cer¬
tainly was polite," her cousin answered.
" The Gospel teaches habitual unselfishness
in little things as well as in great ones.
Hence the spirit of religion induces, or
at least calls forth, refinement of mind.
How much of this is discernible about
that poor young creature, Grace O'Gara.
After having been so long a time domes¬
ticated among low vulgar people, she
NEW TRIALS.
241
preserves simplicity and purity of taste and
manner, and would pass anywhere, though
untrained in the conventional usages of
society."
That night the young people gave Mrs.
Singleton an account of Mr. Mac Namara's
visit to the cottage. She seemed much im¬
pressed with the reasons he had given why
Christians were bound to help each other.
In answer to her remark thereon, Rich a rd ob¬
served, "This poor man's mind seems quite
in accordance with that of the apostle John,
when he said, ' Beloved, if God so loved us,
we ought also to love one another.' And
his offer to support, for a while, tlie orphan,
on his miserable earnings, is a proof of the
sincerity of this feeling, which will stand
the test given in the same Epistle: ' Whoso
hath this world's goods, and seeth his
brother have need, and shutteth up his
bowels of compassion from him, how dwell-
eth the love of God in him ?"
After a long silence Mrs. Singleton said
abruptly, "Jane, pray invite this poor
young girl, Grace, to stay with us till we
can get her a proper situation. I am not
242
GRACE O'GARA.
rich, but still might do more good than I
have ever yet thought of, and little time
remains for me to do it now."
"Dear aunt," cried Jane, "I am truly
grateful for your kind invitation to poor
Grace ; hut you have already" been most
liberal in assisting those whom I mentioned
to you, and 1 would not have you incon¬
venience yourself."
" These were just acts of common be¬
nevolence. I always thought it pleasant
to help%the poor ; but I do believe that I
now have love for God's people—the lambs
of his flock—the branches of his vine, as
the music-master called them, and that
I should greatly like to do them some
service."
Eichard and Jane looked at each other,
and a smile of pleasure illumined their
faces. " These words are written by the
same apostle," said he: " ' Every one that
loveth him that begat, loveth him also that
is begotten of him.' "
" But, dear aunt, what do you mean by
saying that little time remains for you
now ?" inquired Jane, with much anxiety.
NEW TRIALS.
243
"^sk your cousin, the doctor, there,"
Mrs. Singleton replied, with a faint smile.
" I consulted him this morning on the
gradual decay of strength which 1 expe¬
rience, and he thinks it arises from the con¬
stitution being undermined by sorrow, not
controlled, hut concealed. Foolish girl! do
not cry. If I have found out how to he happy
too late for this world, it is not, I thank
God, too late for the next."
"But, dear madam," said Bichard^ " I
did not say that the case, as regarded your
bodily health, was hopeless. Peace of
mind—the peace that passeth understand¬
ing—which, I trust, you have found, may
greatly renovate your strength, and— "
" Well," she interrupted, " I have been
too long brooding over my own selfish sor¬
rows, let me think of those of others. I
pity that poor Doolan, and that circum¬
stance of his cutting the little sod to take
with him seems to have excited some inter¬
est in his fate, especially among the ladies.
Could you not get up a subscription, Dr.'
Moore, to enable him to take his wife and
children with him, should he emigrate
244 GRACE O'GARA.
when he recovers ? Here is something to
begin with," putting money into his hand.
This plan was joyfully acted on by the
cousins, and communicated to their friend
Doolan as soon as he was sufficiently re¬
stored to bear the degree of pleasant ex¬
citement which it occasioned. He had re¬
cognized his kind nurse, Grace O'Gara,
through all his illness, and great were his
joy and gratitude when he found his other
kind care-takers to be his Adrighoole ac¬
quaintances, Miss Headley and Mr. Moore.
" Well," said he, " I would be thinking
that the fairies were at work for me,
and helping me, bringing my friends about
me in this way, if I believed, as I once did,
that there were such people at all. It was
only last night I dreamed that the beauti¬
ful Cleena° herself came from her palace in
in Carrig-cleena, where the wild waters of
Glandore are dashing against the rock, and
told me she would watch over me herself,
and let no evil eye look on me ; and when
I woke, sure there were Gracey O'Gara,
and the good young lady and gentleman, all
" The fairy queen of Munster.
NEW TRIALS.
245
.about my bed, and telling me that my poor
Alien, and all the darlings, would soon be
there, too, and would go with me to the
new country; 0! did I ever hear of such
joy?"
" And are you sure, Jack, that you are
not indebted for all this to the fairies ?"
said Miss Headley. " You used to tell us
of their frolics, ho\f they danced on the
green banks of the stream, and sipped dew
from the lieath-flower and blue-hell, hav¬
ing great power over human beings, which,
by your account, they exercised more for
evil than for good."
" Ah, ma'am! I learned better things
than those, since, out of the book."
" What book, Jack," inquired the doctor.
" The book that Grace's mother used
sometimes read for me, sir ; and that the
poor old gentleman would put into Irish
for me, till I could understand every word
of it. Then, when they were gone, my
own little girls let me hear it, till I knew
it was God's own word, and ought to be
gone by. It would be too long to tell your
honors of all the work we had when the
246
GRACE O'GARA.
priest found it out; but I couldn't give up*
God's word, so I had to give up what little
I had besides, and to quit my home, and
my father's home, without wife, or children,
or friend to hear me company. Now God
has turned my trouble into joy, praise he to
him. As for the fairies, Miss Jane—ah !
when I heard from his blessed word that He
takes c?are of his people, numbering the
very hairs of their head, that even the lit¬
tle birds that sing among the branches are
provided for by him, ^nd not one of them
can fall to the ground without his leave,
sure I knew that the fairies could have
no call to us, if there were such things;
and this I doubted, because there was not a
word about them in the Bible."
Doolan now recovered rapidly, and was
intrusted to the care of his hostess, the fish¬
erman's widow, being often visited by Jane
and Grace. The latter had accepted Mrs.
Singleton's invitation, but with a resolution
to avail herself of the very first occasion
which might offer for earning her bread,
in ever so humble a way. She had tasted
the bitterness of dependence, and her young
NEW .TRIALS.
247
heart was so chilled, and her spirits so de¬
pressed by the remembrance, that she
shrank from the thought of incurring fresh
obligations.
Miss Headley understood the feelings of
her humble friend; and one day that she
appeared peculiarly .cast down, said to her:
" You first told me how to be happy, Grace.
Itr cannot be that you are forgetting the
way yourself. Is not God's protecting care
as much over you now as when, a light-
hearted, light-footed, child, you bounded
like a fawn over your native rocks. And is
it not still true that God is love ?"
" O ! it is, it is, Miss Jane ; what should
I do if it were not ? But he has been
chastening me, and you know, ma'am, we
are told that no ' chastening for the pres¬
ent seemeth to be joyous but grievous.' O!
there is something in me that makes this
kind of chastening seem more hard and
more bitter than any other. We know lit¬
tle of God's ways, still I do think this is the
reason he sends it."
"And what is that something, Grace?"
asked Miss Headley.
248
GRACE O'GARA.
"A proud spirit, ma'am. The same my
poor uncle used to feel rising up within
him when, as he used to say, those whoso
fathers he would have disdained to set with
the dogs of his flock, held him in derision.
God gave him grace entirely to subdue it,
and he was meek and humble as a little
child before he departed. 0 Miss Jane,
that is what I would wish to be, for does
not the Lord say, ' Him that hath an high
look, and a proud heart will not I suffer ?'"
and she burst into tears.
Jape took her hand kindly, and said :
" It is most painful to feel how evil is ever
present with us; and this is what makes
the Christian's course one of unceasing;
warfare. But remember the many gracious
assurances of help, if we struggle against
that evil; and remember also, dear Grace,
to your comfort, that 4 if any man sin, we
ha\^" an advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ, the'righteous. However, your de¬
sire to be able to provide for yourself is
quite right, and in accordance with many
Scriptural injunctions. I therefore trust
it may be soon fulfilled."
NEW TRIALS.
249
" O ! I do hope so, Miss Jane ; and I
hope the same for that poor Mr. Mac Na-
mara. I heard to-day that the new music-
teacher has become so fashionable in the
town as quite to shut him out; and that in
consequence of it he and his sickly old
mother are reduced to great distress."
After conversations such as this, which
the two young disciples often held together,
they usually united in supplication for Di¬
vine guidance and grace to help in time of
need, on the strength of that-most encour¬
aging declaration: " If two of you shall
agree on earth as touching anything that
they shall ask, it shall be done for them
of my Father which is in heaven."
Bichard Moore had proceeded on his
journey to the west, the bearer of the col¬
lection for Doolan, which had prospered so
well that the wife and children soon joined
him for the purpose of accompanying him
across the Atlantic; being provided with
everything necessary for the voyage, and a
sum of money, which, however small, was
more than the emigrant often has where¬
with to begin life in the land of his exile.
16
250 GRACE O'GARA.
Dr. Moore, had, meanwhile, written his
cousin word that his settling in that part of
the country was decided on. His friend,
the clergyman, who had suggested the plan,
was sanguine as to the result of having
Eichard a fellow-helper in the exertions he
was making for the good of the people
about him. While the young physician, on
his part, thought that the society and ex¬
perience of such a man, and his preaching,
which was of a superior order, might, with
God's blessing, be most useful to himself.
" It is only," he added, " a day's journey
from the beautiful shores of GlengarifF; so
that We may hope to revisit the scene in
which, through mercy from on high, God's
truth first dawned upon our minds; and to
4 girdle the waves' of its bay, and climb the
heathery crags of its mountains together
again."
Meanwhile all the exertions used to pro¬
cure a situation, even of the humblest kind,
for Grace, had proved unavailing. Autumn
was come, and the time for Mrs. Singleton's
return to her home nigh at hand ; so that
there seemed an urgent necessity for her
NEW TRIALS.
251
doing something; jet, what could she do ?
was the question.
With the poor music-master also, the
prospect for the future, so far as regarded
this world, was equally gloomy. They
were, however, both enabled to look toward
a better, through the vail that the eye of
faith alone may penetrate. Mac Namara,
with the freshness and fervor of newly
awakened feelings, casting all his care upon
the Lord, and, almost literally, taking no
thought for the morrow; Grace, witli quiet
confidence in Him whose loving kindness
she had known even from a child, illus¬
trated the apostle's description of the tried
believers, " perplexed, but not in despair;
persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down,
but not destroyed."
252
grace o'gara.
CHAPTER XVI.
offers of help.
It was within a few days of that
fixed on for Mrs. Singleton's departure,
when Miss Headley and her young
companion waited to the neighboring-
town, where Mr. Mac Namara held a
weekly meeting with a few pupils, to prac¬
tise singing in parts, which Grace attended ;
Jane often accompanying her for the pleas¬
ure of hearing the music. The morning
was dark and dreary, naked branches over¬
head, and dead leaves strewing their path,
giving mournful intimation that summer,
with its enjoyments was over, and winter at.
hand. The feelings of the two friends cor¬
responded with the gloomy aspect of all
around, for they were about to part, and the
" sweet counsel" which they had so long
taken together was now to be at an end.
Grace had been obliged to accept Mr.
Mac Namara's offer, having no alternative ;
OFFEKS OF HELP. 1,0 3
and was to remain with his mother till she
could procure some situation. Some of
Mrs. Singleton's and Miss Headley's ac¬
quaintances had promised, meanwhile, to
procure as much employment for her needle
as might prevent her being much incum¬
brance to the kind music-master's mother.
Old Mrs. Mac Namara, who was, Grace said,
a respectable and amiable person, had ex¬
pressed much satisfaction at this arrange¬
ment ; still Grace knew that these good
people could not exercise such hospitality
toward her but at the cost of inconvenience
to themselves, so that the prospect seemed
a dreary one; and she acknowledged that
her spirits were more cast down than one
who believed it to be the appointment of a
loving Father ought to experience.
" Still, Miss Jane," she said, " I am often
able to trust everything to Him who gave
himself for me; and then, 0! there is
nothing but peace in my heart. Isn't that
the way to be happy, ma'am ?" And she
smiled as if she really felt it so.
They arrived rather before the usual
hour at the place of meeting, and no one
254
GRACE O'GARA.
else had yet come. After a few minutes
a gentleman entered whom Jane knew, as
he was Mrs. Singleton's physician, and
ivhom she regarded as a kind and agreeable
man. " You wonder to see me hgre, Miss
Headley," said he, " but I am not come to
take lessons in singing ; I want to see poor
Mac Namara about something which may
be of use to him."
"I am very glad to hear it, sir," Jane
replied.
" Well, I will tell you all about it. You
are aware how this foolish man has lost his
friends in this place by refusing to attend
the convivial parties of the hunting and
yachting clubs, to the entertainment of
which his fine voice greatly contributed; also,
by not singing on Sundays ; and last, but
the greatest offense of all, in declining to in¬
struct the ladies in singing such of our fash¬
ionable songs as he deemed unsuited to se¬
riously-minded people; all on account of
some peculiar religious notions which he
has lately imbibed. Poor man, mistaken
as he may be, he has at least, proved his
sincerity, for he has suffered severely for
OFFERS OF HELP.
255
adhering to his principles. I went yester-
daj to visit his mother, at their pretty little
cottage in the suburbs, but all their possess¬
ions had just been seized for its rent, and
they must quit it, not knowing where
to go."
Jane looked at Grace O'Gara, whose plan,
she supposed, this intelligence would entire¬
ly break up. The poor girl was pale and
trembling, but it seemed that she was not
thinking of herself, for she said, " Poor
man! poor old lady! what will they do?
May God take care of them."
" Truly it was a sad scene," continued
the doctor, " but I have something pleas-
anter to tell now. After leaving the cot¬
tage I dined with a few friends. One, a
gentleman from Dublin, who is connected
with some theatrical company there, hap¬
pened to mention that-they were at present
in need of good voices for their musical en¬
tertainments. I told him of Mac Namara's
vocal powers—which I have heard judges
say were uncommon—and that it is prob¬
able his services could be easily engaged.
He was glad to learn this, and will join me
256 GRACE O'GARA.
here presently to judge for himself. 1
found out that the terms would be so ad¬
vantageous as to place the music-master in
very comfortable circumstances. So I hope
there may be no difficulty in settling the
matter."
Of this Miss Headley felt doubtful. She
was aware that Mac Namara knew enough
of the stage to think that it must involve
much that is incompatible with Christian
discipleship. On the other hand, a prospect
of comfort and independence was, indeed, a
strong temptation to one tried as the music-
master was at present; and she could not
but feel anxiety about the rent, particular¬
ly as Grace's interest might be connected
with it.
Just then Mac Namara and his pupils
came in. His features wore an expression
of deep melancholy, and he seated himself
at the piano with an abstracted air, as if
scarcely conscious of what he was about.
However, when he had struck a few chords,
and sung a few bars, the potent spell of mu¬
sic seemed to banish all unpleasant feelings,
and he poured forth the rich melody of his
OFFERS OF HELP.
257
voice, evidently to the admiration of the
gentleman from Dublin, who had also en¬
tered the room, and seated himself near his
friend, the physician.
When the practising was over, Dr. L.
briefly explained the cause of their intrusion
to Mac Namara ; adding, that as the gentle¬
man was setting out for home in a couple of
hours, no time was to be lost. The stranger
-then expressed his approbation of Mac Na-
mara's performance, assuring him that it was
a pity his musical talents should be lost in
obscurity ; -for, if once known, they would
probably be the means of raising him to
some eminence in his delightful art.
The teacher's eye brightened, and his
cheek flushed at this. Though, from the
bashfulness and humility of his nature, he
was one of those who would " shrink to hear
the obstreperous truurp of fame," still his
heart beat quick, as the thought of advan¬
tages attendant on this notoriety came to
his mind—independence and competence to
himself, and a respectable provision for his
mother; nor did he forget the privilege of
being able to help Grace O'Gara in her des-
258
GRACE O'GARA.
titution, as he felt much regard for the con¬
sistency of her character, and gratitude to
her as the person by whose instrumentality
he had been led to study those " lively ora¬
cles " which he now found^o he the rejoic¬
ing of his heart. But the bright vision so
quickly presented to his mind was as speedily
dispelled, by the recollection that it could
not he realized without sacrifices on his
part for which he felt that the wealth of
the whole world would not repay him. His
countenance resumed its sadness, and ad¬
dressing the stranger, he said :
" Sir, accept my humble, my very sincere
thanks, for your offer. And you likewise,
Dr. L., for the the kind interest you take
in my welfare. Believe me, gentlemen, I
am not the less grateful because I cannot
avail myself of them in this instance."
The stranger looked disappointed, and
the doctor exclaimed, " What nonsense is
this, Mac Namara ? Surely you cannot
really intend to remain in obscurity and
poverty, when such an opportunity occurs
for providing for yourself? Just think a
little before you decline it."
OFFERS OF HELP.
259
" I have thought on the subject before,
sir, to the best of my ability, when a friend
suggested the theater as a resource," re¬
plied the musician, timidly; " and the re¬
sult was, a conviction that such a situation
■would not suit my ideas of what is right."
The kind-hearted physician, who seemed
nevertheless to be of a warm temperament,
was now quite provoked. " Mac Namara!"
he cried, " I must speak plainly. You
know I have a regard for you, and for your
mother. Just remember her situation at
this moment, and can you refuse to do
what will probably insure her comfort while
she lives ?"
The poor musician's cheek flushed again.
" It is, I own it is, a great temptation ; but
the Lord says, ' He that loveth father or
mother more than me is not worthy of
me.'"
" Are you not also commanded to honor
your father and mother?" exclaimed Dr.
L——. You are, you must be a fool, Mac
Namara. Excuse me, but you provoke me.
The religion that teaches you to act thus
cannot be a good one."
260
GRACE (VGARA.
" No excuse is needed for calling me a
fool, sir," replied the teacher, meekly. " I
do not covet the wisdom of this world, be¬
cause it is ' foolishness with God.' But, sir,
you said that my religion—the religion of
the Bible was not a good one ; and this I
cannot bear. These young people must not
go away with such an impression on their
minds. My dear young friends," he con¬
tinued, addressing his pupils, and seeming
to forget his natural bashfulness in the in¬
terest and importance of the subject, " the
Bible does teach us our duty to parents,
and everything else that is right; but it
teaches us that we should love God, and
seek to please him before all; and, unused
as I am to speak, I cannot, no, I cannot
help telling you, young friends, what he
has done for us to make us love him. Yes,
weak, unlearned as I am, I must be able to
say, ' I have not hid thy rightousness within
my heart. I have declared thy faithful¬
ness and thy salvation. I have not con¬
cealed thy loving-kindness and thy truth.' "
Then, as if inspired by the greatness of the
cause which his heart burned to advocate,
OFFERS OF HELP.
261
a change seemed to pass over his whole ap¬
pearance. His form looked as if it had
suddenly acquired dignity and grace; his
pale face flushed with a hectic glow; his
eye beamed with feeling, and there was a
deep modulation in his voice that spoke
movingly to the soul, while, with what
might he called " a rush of native elo¬
quence," he gave a concise, hut comprehen¬
sive and powerful sketch of the love of God
to sinners, as manifested in the gift of his
Son; concluding with an appeal to the
heart of everyone present, whether it were
possible to sacrifice too much of our worldly
interest sooner than run the slightest risk
of offending a being who had showri us
such unspeakable goodness.
This short address, so unexpected by
those who heard it, was felt to be powerful,
being, what Miss Head ley afterward de¬
scribed to her cousin, Richard Moore, in the
words of the proverbial philosopher, " The
grasp of concentrated eloquence, wielding
the omnipotence of truth." When it had
ended, he sank down on his seat at the
piano, his back to the company, a^d his
262
GRACE O'GARA.
liead leaning on the desk, suddenly abash¬
ed by the thought that what he had done
might be mistaken for presumption, or,
perhaps, something worse. This, however,
was not the case. When out of the abund¬
ance of the heart the mouth speaketh, what
is said bears the impress of sincerity too
plainly to be mistaken. His youthful au¬
ditors were affected, some even to tears.
The strange gentleman was heard to say
to his friend, " This poor man speaks well,
and evidently feels what he says. We can¬
not blame him for acting as he believes to
be right."
" Blame him ! no, indeed," was the reply.
" If we all thought more of these things it
might be better for us. Tor my part I am
resolved to —" The doctor stopped before
naming his resolution ; and walking to the
piano, took the music-master by the hand,
saying, "Forgive me, Mac Namara; I
spoke hastily, but it arose from my regard
for you. I trust something else may be
found which you ean conscientiously ac¬
cept."
On their way home, Miss Headley and
THE MUSIC MASTER'S TRIUMPH.
.OFFERS OF HELP.
265
Grace O'Gara spoke with thankfulness .of
the music-master's triumph over a strong
temptation ; which, from their knowledge
of his circumstances, they c.ould fully ap¬
preciate. " However," observed Jane, " I
expected nothing, less; for this poor man
seems, ever since he was brought to a
knowledge of the Lord, to he simply and
unreservedly seeking to follow his com¬
mandments ; not turning from them to the
right hand or to the left."
" Then, surely, ma'am," said Grace, " he
will find the promise fulfilled which was
given to those who do so, ' That thou may-
est prosper whithersoever thou goest.'"
" Undoubtedly. But, Grace, I was sur¬
prised to find him an orator. The little he
said in his unlooked-for outbreak of feel¬
ing, seemed to me to indicate not only tal¬
ent, but a refinement of taste which his
reserve and bashful manner had completely
concealed."
" Yes, ma'am; I believe he pbssesses
both, and has cultivated them to the best
of his ability, devoting his leisure time to
reading, in which he delights."
266
GRACE O'GARA.
" Well, I should not have supposed it
until I heard him to-day."
"I don't wonder at that,- ma'am. It
often surprised me to hear such nice deli¬
cate thoughts coming from one who seemed
so awkward. Do you know, Miss Jane, his
character reminds me of the dark, un¬
shapely-looking sea-weeds that I used to
find among the rocks on our western strand,
which, when I put them in water, and ex¬
amined them, would spread out with such
bright colors and such delicate forms."
On reaching Mrs. Singleton's, the young
friends found an agreeable addition to thgir
little circle. Eichard Moore had arrived on
his return from his visit to the west, where
he had made arrangements for the recep¬
tion of his family, who were to remove
thither immediately. He had taken a
pleasant country residence for them.
"And," he said, "I feel most thankful
that in place of being shut up in a smoky
town, the scene of my labors will be among
green fields, and even heath-clad hills, with
what you, Jane, will probably envy, a dis¬
tant glimpse of the grey summits of the
OFFERS OF HELP.
267
Bantry mountains. "But far beyond all
these advantages, I trust that the ministry
of my friend, and the co-operation of him¬
self and his family in our humble efforts to
forward the cause of our Master, may give
us reason to say that the lines have fallen
unto us in pleasant places."
Grace had listened to the young gentle¬
man's sketch of his future home with a look
of sympathizing pleasure. Still, when he
mentioned the heathery rocks and mount¬
ains of her native place, unbidden tears
rushed to her eyes, and she slipped out of
the room to conceal them. Miss Headley
took the opportunity of telling her cousin
of the predicament in which the music-
master* was at present placed; and how,
in consequence, the poor girl had been
obliged to give up her plan of taking ref¬
uge in his mother's house for a short time,
without being able as yet to substitute any
other; so that what was to become of her
■she knew not.
Jane, who expected to see Kichard mani¬
fest much regret at 'this intelligence, was
surprised when, instead of so doing, he
17
268
GRACE O'GARA.
smiled, rubbed his hands joyfully, ai
plied, " No matter, don't be afraid, all
be well yet."
" I am sure of it," said Jane, " for Gi«^~
trusts in God, and he will take care of her.
Still we cannot wonder if she be a little
cast down."
" Please to call her, dear Jane; I want
to speak to her." Jane did so; and on
Grace's re-appearance he said to her, " So,
my little friend, your heavenly Father has
given you, and poor Mr. Mac Namara also,
a fresh occasion for exercising confidence in
his kindness."
" Yes, sir, and I trust he enables us to
do so."
"And have you decided on anything,
Grace ?"
" I have sir. A dressmaker in the town
has offered me work, and I mean to accept
her offer."
" 0 my poor Grace!" exclaimed Jane,
almost weeping.
Richard Moore re-echoed her words,
"Poor Grace.! My little mountain bird to
be shut up in a close room.
OFFERS OF HELP.
269
• Work ! work ! work!
While the cock is crowing aloof;
And work—work—work—
Till the stars shine through the roof.'
This is a gloomy prospect, and I fear would
never agree with either the mind or body
of one brought up as you were."
Grace, with composure, and even with a
smile, though it was rather a sad one, re¬
plied : " I trust, Dr. Moore, that He who ap¬
points it will enable me to say, like the
good French lady who was confined in a far
worse prison,0
4 A little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air,
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there:
Well pleased a prisoner to be,
Because, my God, it pleases thee.'"
. " I trust, my good girl," said the doctor,
" that He will ever enable you to say this;
but, at present, I believe you, are not likely
to have a prisoner's experience. No, Grace;
I hope soon to see you as free as the wild
bird-that never knew a cage, enjoying the
° Madame Guyon, who was imprisoned in the
Bastile.
270
GRACE O'GARA.
sweet air, and bright sunshine, while you
bound along the hills and dales of the
west, on some mission of kindness to your
fellow creatures. In short, I am the bearer
of a message both to you and to Mr. Mac
Namara, from my friend and pastor, which
will probably make a pleasant change in
your destiny."
"What is it, dear Richard? I am all im¬
patience to hear," cried Jane.
" My friend," he continued, " is exceed¬
ingly fond of music, and anxious to establish
congregational singing in his place of wor¬
ship. He has procured an organ, but is in
want of a person who could perform well on
it, and give instructions in singing to such
of his flock as may be able to unite in that
delightful form of worship. I told him of
Mr. Mac Namara's capabilities in this way,
and also of his pupil, Grace O'Gai-a's voice,
which would be a great acquisition to his
choir. He decided at once on availing; him-
self of the hope I held out that he might
probably be able to procure both. W1
added, further, that I believed yo1
be under the influence of Divine <.
OFFERS OF HELP.
271
that jou might, with (Tod's blessing, be ef
ficient helps, not only in teaching those
committed to his care to sing psalms, and
hymns, and spiritual songs with the lips,
but also in leading them, through a knowl¬
edge of the truth as it is in Jesus, to make
melody in their hearts to the Lord ; and
particularly, Grace, when 1 mentioned that
you understood our native language, and
read the Scriptures in it, his desire to se¬
cure the assistance of such laborers in his
little vineyard knew no bounds, nor would
he let me rest till he made me promise to
try and secure your services; and for this
purpose am I now come."
The joy and thankfulness with which this
news was heard increased as Dr. Moore en¬
tered into particulars on the subject. The
salary which Mac Namara was to receive as
an organist, was what one in his present
circumstances would consider good. His
getting employment as a teacher of music
among the gentry of the neighborhood
there could be no doubt of. Grace was of¬
fered the care of an infant school until
something better could be provided. Then,
272 GRACE O'GARA.
there was at the place which Dr. Moore had.
taken for his father's family a comfortable
cottage, which the hand of taste could, he
said, soon make picturesque, where she and
the Mac Namaras might reside. It was
near enough to the small provincial town to
admit of their punctual attendance at the
church, schools, or anything else where duty
might require their presence, while it pos¬
sessed the quietness and freshness of the
country.
" And now," said Richard, " that I have
sketched this Arcadian scene for you, let us
lose no time in relieving poor Mr. Mac
Namara's mind, by giving him a prospective
glimpse of it, and communicating the offer
I have been commissioned to make him."
A message was accordingly despatched,
by Mrs. Singleton's permission, requesting
the music-master to come to them that eve¬
ning. He did so, and heard with quiet joy
and gratitude an offer so congenial to his
taste in every way. " 0," he said, " I ought
not to have been cast down, when I knew
that our God was a very present help in
trouble."
OFFERS OF HELP.
273
" I rejoice to see you so much pleased
with my friend's proposal," said Dr. Moore.
" But, Mr. Mac Namara, your voice and
musical abilities have been thought a good
deal of by judges who has had an oppor¬
tunity of forming an opinion on the subject,
and it is said they might, if known, raise
you to eminence. Are you quite satisfied to
spend your life in ' the languor of inglorious
days,' without duly exercising these gifts ?"
The musician smiled, and replied : "These
gifts, if I do possess them, sir, will now in¬
deed be duly exercised in the highest and
holiest use to which they could be appropri¬
ated—in singing, and teaching others to
sing, to the praise and glory of Him who
gave them."
" And I have been thinking of another
way in which you and our little Grace may
make your vocal powers useful," observed
Richard. " It has been truly said that mu¬
sic is the first faculty of the Irish ; and that
scarcely anything has such power for good
over them. You will try its influence on
our benighted peasantry. Some of our best
hymns have been translated into their own
27-1
GRACE O'GARA.
language; and when they hear the sweet
songs of Zion they will, I doubt not, readily
listen to the truths these songs contain, as
they are revealed in the word of God."
This and other plans of future usefulness
were spoken of; and as Dr. Moore detailed
particulars concerning the prospect before
them, the music-master's countenance be¬
came more and more animated, till all at
once it seemed as if some sudden thought
had flung a shade over his anticipations, and
he became silent. With difficulty Bichard
prevailed on him to acknowledge the cause.
He owed rent for his present abode, to¬
gether with a few other trifling debts ; and
how could he make the move till he had
discharged them? The gloom seemed to
extend to the rest of the party at. this an¬
nouncement. They were none of them rich
enough to remove the difficulty, gladly as
any of them would have done so. Bichard
Moore said: " Surely we may trust God to
settle this matter also ; and his words were
soon verified, and, by the instrumentality of
Grace O'Gara, as we shall inform our read¬
ers in the next chapter.
THE conclusion.
275
CHAPTER XYII.
the conclusion.
The following morning Grace called on
her aunt and uncle, to inform them of her
intended removal to the country. She had
not seen Mrs. Donegan since she had so
much offended that lady hy remaining to
nurse Jack Doolan ; and the reception
which she now met with was not very cor¬
dial. However, when her aunt heard that
she was going to a distance, and in a situa¬
tion which did not to her appear very desir¬
able, the good woman's tastes not leading
her to appreciate the enjoyments of conge¬
nial society, rural scenery, and, still less, of
spiritual advantages, her better feelings
prevailed, and she invited Grace to return
to her. She promised always to leave Sun¬
day at her own disposal, and concluded hy
saying, " You managed the children so well,
and they are so fond of you, that it is much
better to have you here again."
276 GRACE O'GARA.
This proposal was gratefully but decided¬
ly declined: and Mrs. Donegan, though a
little angry, said: " Well, you are my sis¬
ter's daughter, and I wish you may get on.
I will give you a new dress and shawl to
take to the new place."
" Do so," said her husband ; " she de¬
serves more than that from you. I do not
see why you should not repay the services
of your niece as you would those of a stran¬
ger. Take this, my good girl," putting a
bank note into Grace's hand; " it is your
right, so don't thank me. And Gracey, my
dear, I must tell you, that though I might
not, at first, have liked your notions about
religion, I am of a different mind now. I
saw how good and how sincere you were;
how you bore a great deal that was hard
enough to be borne by a young creature
like you, and with the O'Gara blood in your
veins. And I saw how you went according
to your conscience, even when it was against
your interest. After you left us I often
spent an evening with the children, when
their mother was gone to a tea party.
Sorry I am that the little creatures have
THE CONCLUSION.
277
lost such a teacher as they had in you.
Well, they used to tell me of the good things
theit cousin Grace had taught them out of
the Bible, till I took to reading it myself.
There is a great change in my mind ever
since, Grace. I am now resolved, with God's
help, to read it openly in my family, and to
have my children read it. There shall be
no more Sunday parties here; for every
day I think more and more of these words,
' What shall it profit a man if he gain the
whole world, and lose his own soul ? '"
This made Grace very happy ; so happy,
that for some time she forgot Mr. Done-
gan's gift, which she held in her hand. She
then thanked him affectionately, and, hav¬
ing taken leave of him, her aunt, and her
little cousins, to whom she was much at¬
tached, she proceeded to Mrs. Mac Nama-
ra's, where, with the delicacy of feeling she
naturally possessed, and the Christian love
religion had taught her, she presented her
friends with the sum she had just received.
It was with difficulty that she persuaded
them to accept it, even as a loan, to remove
the hinderances in the way of their change
278 GRACE O'GARA.
of residence,. which, it was now settled,
should take place.immediately.
The departure of Mrs. Singleton and her
niece was fixed for a still earlier day, to
return home after their long absence. 'It
was with much regret that Jane left the
society of those she regarded, and a place
where, as she thankfully acknowleged, she
had received many mercies. But during
her sojourn there she had made some prog¬
ress in that branch of knowledge so gene¬
rally desired, and so seldom attained—how
to be happy. She had learned to " set her
affections on things above, not on things on
the earth," so that her peace of mind de¬
pended but little on circumstances.
On her return to Arden Lodge, her life
was even more monotonous than it had
been there before, for she was more con¬
fined on account of her aunt's state of health.
Still she was content. The intercourse with
her humble but beloved friend, Grace
O'Gara, the conversation, and, still more, the
example of that young disciple had, by-
God's mercy, greatly established and
strengthened her in the faith ; and she
THE CONCLUSION.
279
performed with patient perseverance the
duties assigned by her heavenly Father,
never doubting- that gracious assurance
which is" fitted to cast a radiance, over the
Christian's darkest path : " And we know
that all things work together for good to
them that love G-od."
Mrs. Singleton, for whom Jane now felt
much affection, declined rapidly as winter
advanced, and early in the spring was taken
to her everlasting rest, having been ten¬
derly nursed by her niece to the last. Her
end was all peace, for she knew in whom
she trusted.
When Richard Moore and his sister
Louisa heard of her death, they came at
once to their cousin. Mrs. Singleton had
bequeathed to Jane so much of her property
as was at her own disposal. It was suffi¬
cient to make Jane independent, and enable
her to fix her residence where she pleased.
She soon resolved on casting in her lot with
those she loved best on earth—her aunt
Moore's family—now united to her not only
by the ties of relationship and old affection,
but in the more close and endearing bonds
280 GRACE O'GARA.
of Christian fellewship. Nor was their vi¬
cinity to Grace O'Gara a trifling induce¬
ment to her to make this decision. Accord¬
ingly she returned with her cousins to their
home, which she found to be a pleasant
country place, and where a most affection¬
ate reception awaited her from all her rela¬
tions.
She had not very long arrived when she
set out to visit her old friend, the little
guide of Adrighoole, accompanied by Bich-
ard and Louisa. It was a bright evening
in spring. The birds were singing their
merry songs, and gay flowers adorning the
hedges. " How cheerful everything seems,"
exclaimed Jane Headley. " This fresb
western breeze that comes from the beauti¬
ful shores of Glengariff, passing over Ad¬
righoole mountain, whose well-remembered
outline I can trace in the distance, inspires
me to say with the poet:
' I feel the gales that from you "blow
A momentary bliss bestow,
As waving fresh their gladsome wing,
My weary sojal they seem to soothe,
And, redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring.' "
THE CONCLUSION.
281
" There is something exhilarating both
to body and mind in mountain air and
scenery," answered Richard ; " and though
we have not very much of either here, yet
the little glimpse afforded us of a scene as¬
sociated with our remembrance of God's
great mercy to us, as the place where
events occurred which he made the means
of leading us into the marvelous light of
his truth, must awaken feelings of joy and
thankfulness in our hearts."
" Do you remember," said Louisa, " how
philosophically we used to discuss the ques¬
tion, how to be happy? Was it not our
simple little guide of Adriglioole that led
us to a discovery of the right answer ?"
" It was indeed," Richard replied, " and
all the philosophy in the world could not
have done so. Grace learned it from the
' testimony of the Lord,' which maketh wise
the simple.'"
" Is it not strange," observed Jane, " that
all whose hearts are asking that question,
do not seek an answer in what they profess
to believe is a revelation from God ?"
" It is a question which every human
282 GRACE O'GARA.
heart asks," replied her cousin. All thirst
for happiness, and a general invitation to
partake of it is given in the Scriptures:
4 Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come ye to
the waters.' But the prophet's words are
mournfully true ; men have ' forsaken the
fountain of living waters, and hewed them
out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold
no water.' .The object of their desire is
sought among the peVishing vanities of this
life, and in the end they are found to ex¬
claim with the poet:
" 0 happiness not to be fourfd !
Unattainable treasure, adieu.
I have sought thee in splendor and dress,
In the regions of pleasure and taste;
I have sought thee, and seemed to possess,
But have proved thee a vision at last."
" Well," said Louisa, " the happiness
which Grace O'Gara so early sought and
found, and to which it has been her privi¬
lege to direct others, is no vision. Every
look she wears, and every word she says,
bears the impress of real joy and peace
within. I know that under very trying
circumstances much of this was to be dis-
THE CONCLUSION.
283
covered; but now that her duties and em¬
ployments are all in accordance with the
taste of the renewed mind, she seems like
the mountain breeze you have been speak¬
ing of, Jane, 'redolent of joy and youth.'
You will see her, with as bright an eye, and
as light a step, as she had when gathering
wild fruit for her old uncle on the cliffs of
Adrighoole, following our good pastor to
the peasant's cabin, io act as interpreter
when he visits the sick and needy, for the
purpose of administering comfort to both
soul and body."
" Or in her school," said Richard, " teach¬
ing infant lips to sing the praises of Him
from whom all blessings flow, or to read his
word. She is considered a most efficient
instructress, and the children are so attach¬
ed to her, from her kind and lively manner,
that you will see them with-their eyes fixed
on her, as if to gather inspiration from her
looks."
" And how does the poor music-master go
on?" inquired Jane.
" Right well. Though he does not look
quite so radiant as Grace, you will see an
18
284 GRACE O'GARA.
improvement in his appearance and man¬
ner also. He has many pupils, and is much
respected here, the estimation in which our
minister holds the guileless and devoted
character of this disciple having quickly
led others to a due appreciation of it. No
longer oppressed beneath the odium heaped
on him, for adherence to principle, and en¬
joying constant intercourse with those who
are like-minded with himself, he seems to
walk on his way with both mind and body
in a more erect position. He is ever
ready to he about his heavenly Father's
business; and even in teaching his delight¬
ful art, tries to lead his pupils to sing, not
with the lips only, hut with the heart to
make melody unto the Lord."
" And beneath the plain exterior of this
man," said Louisa, we have discovered supe¬
rior intellectual powers and refined taste.
These, his mother informs me, he often, when
his day's work is over, endeavors to cultivate,
in company with Grace, who has, you know,
the same desire for knowledge. In fact,
from a hint I received on the same autho¬
rity, I should not be surprised if these two
THE CONCLUSION. 285
persons, united by kindred tastes and the
bond of Christian fellowship, were yet bound
together by the closest earthly ties."
." Indeed !" exclaimed Miss Headley.
" Well, I do think it would be a most de¬
sirable arrangement. But would not such
a thing as a union with a Mac Namara be
sufficient to call up the indignant manes of
the O'Gara chiefs for the purpose of forbid¬
ding the bans ?"
" I do not think Grace will take this ob¬
jection into consideration," replied Bichard.
" She respects and loves her friend as a
4 citizen of no mean city,'—' a fellow-citizen
with the saints, and of the household of
God !' But even if she should," he con¬
tinued, laughing, " such an objection would
be at once removed by an old legend which
Mrs. Mac Namara, the mother, told me,
and in connection with this project. I will
tell it to you, Jane; for though rather wild,
it will please your romantic and patriotic
taste.
" Tradition says that the Mac Namaras
are by no means deficient in ancestral dig¬
nity, being descended from a sea nymph,
286 GRACE O'GARA.
who lived in a beautiful cave on the coast
of Gal way, the roof of which was studded
with diamonds. Hence is the name Mao
Namara, literally sons of the sea. So I
hope, Jane, that the* romance to which this
name owes its origin will prevent your ob¬
jecting to have your little guide adopt it,
should such an event he proposed."
On arriving at the dwelling of Mrs. Mac
Namara, Jane Headley, who was cordially
welcomed by its inmates, felt a pleasant
conviction that it was a true account of the
joy and contentment they experienced,
which she had just heard from her cousin.
Their every look, every word, seemed to
denote such a feeling as the psalmist ex¬
pressed when he said, " My cup runneth
over." And in this feeling their visitors
seemed to participate.
We would here, observe that there was
but little in the outward circumstances of
any of the Christians who had then met
together calculated to confer happiness
upon the worldly mind. Kiches, honors,
pleasures, as the experience of every day
proves, may he possessed without such a
THE CONCLUSION.
287
result. But they enjoyed "the peace of
God which passeth all understanding," he-
cause their affections were fixed, and their
desires raised beyond the world. As every
trifling gift from those who are dear to us
is prized, so the smallest mercy from that
loving Parent whom the Spirit of adoption
enables us, through the Saviour, to call
" Father," becomes a source of joy and
thankfulness. .
" See, Miss Jane," Grace would exclaim,
" what a nice little garden we have laid out
already ; and the roots and seeds are coming
up. O how pleasant it will be to gather a
nosegay for you when they blossom. And
isn't the cottage pretty ? At least, it will he
so when the shrubs and creepers are grown."
" Yes, Miss Headley," said Mr. Mac Na-
mara, with his quiet smile; " it will he
pretty under the hand of taste. And may
we not say of it, ma'am, in the words of
that great musician, Dr. Burney:
' Our little narrow mansion,
Does suit our fortune well;
There's room for heart expansion,
And peace and joy to dwell ?'"
288
grace o'gara.
" It is the dwelling which your heavenly
Father has provided for you, my friend,"
replied Jane, and I am certain that his
blessing will be with you in it. In un¬
speakable mercy the Lord has taught us all
how to be happy, and it is our own fault-
if we are not so. Short as our experience
of life may have been, we have learned
from it the useful lesson, that
' Joy is a fruit which wiH not grow
In nature's barren soil;
All we can boast, till Christ we know,
Is vanity and toil.
But where the Lord has planted grace,
And made his glories known,
There fruits of heavenly joy and peace
Are found, and there alone.' "
THE END.