THE GIRLS OF PEMBROKE MILL. 55 on till they had got within an hour or two of dinner-time, when suddenly a crackling noise was heard, then a fearful crash, and the great mill was a heap of ruins, and all the workers buried in them! Oh what a scene was there. The hum and whir of the noisy wheels, and the laugh and merry songs of boys and men, were hushed in death; and all that was heard now were the wails and shrieks of frantic mothers and `weeping sisters. Thousands of strong men were speedily at work, digging away the ruins and searching for the bodies of their relations or friends. Many of them were taken out cold and dead; and some were so bruised and mangled that their dearest friends did not know them. A few were got out alive, but so ghastly and broken did they seem, that even if their lives were spared, they would be little better than a burden One man imprisoned in a crevice found his case so hopeless, and his sufferings so great, that he cut his own throat to bring an end to his misery. There was one corner, where a number of Sabbath-school girls were working, which seemed higher than the rest of the ruins, and it was thought possible that some of them might be alive; so they dug away the rubbish as fast as they could, and by-and-by they got near enough to hear some voices. The poor girls were alive, and what do you suppose they were doing? Perhaps you say, "Crying;" but no, they were far better employed. You remember what Paul and Silas did when they were cast into a dark dungeon, their backs bleeding with many stripes? They sang a hymn of praise to God. And so did those dear girls in their fearful dungeon. The friends got near enough to hear their voices distinctly, and know the very hymn they were singing. It was"I want to be an angel," &c.; but just then a still more fearful calamity befel them. 56 THE GIRLS OF PEMBROKE MILL. The ruins caught fire; and so rapidly did the raging flames complete the work of destruction, that nothing more could be done. By this time, and fully knowing their awful fate, the girls had commenced a second hymn, one that many of you may know, beginning— "We're going home to glory;" but they did not get beyond the first few lines when the flames must have closed around them, for their voices ceased, to be heard no more; and when at last the fire was put out, and the remaining ruins dug away, their bodies were found so charred and blackened that their parents could not tell the one from the other. What a sad yet glorious death was theirs! They must have known and loved the Saviour before, or they could not have sung his praise then. None but Jesus could have given them fortitude and strength in such a trying hour. It is always good to serve him, whether the days be dark or bright; it is good to trust in him, for he is always faithful and true; but it is noble to praise him as those dear girls did when surrounded by death in its most fearful forms, from which there was no possible escape. But the secret, dear reader, was this: they must have taken Jesus at his word; and He who was with his servants in the fiery furnace, and with Daniel in the lions' den, was saying to them, "Fear not, I am with thee." And when all was over, and their parents were weeping over their blackened corpses, and would not be comforted, they were rejoicing in the presence of Jesus-the prayer of their last song on earth was answered, and with angels before the eternal throne, they were waving palms of victory. Dear reader, you may not have to die in a dungeon, 66 JUST AS I AM." 57 nor be shut up in a pile of burning ruins; but even in your own quiet home you may encounter a more dreadful death than either. Around the death-bed of a Christless sinner there is always a darkness through which no light can penetrate; and the thorns of many a dying pillow are far more hard to bear than even the scorching flames. Be yours a Christian's life, and then, wherever or whenever you come to die—whether death comes to you in fire or flood, in your own room or on a mountain top-you will be able with your latest breath to say, "I know now how true it is that "Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are ; For on his breast I lay my head, And breathe my life out sweetly there.'" "JUST AS I AM.' Do you know the following beautiful hymn? Perhaps you do. Can you sing it? Did you ever turn it into a prayer? Many a soul has thanked God for it. repeat it, to sing it, and to feel it. Just as I am, without one plea But that thy blood was shed for me, Just as I am, and waiting not To rid my soul of one dark blot Try to To thee whose blood can cleanse each spot, Just as I am-poor, wretched, blind- Yea, all I need, in thee to find, O Lamb of God, I come! 58 A SISTER'S LETTER. Just as I am-though toss'd about Just as I am, thou wilt receive, O Lamb of God, I come! Just as I am; thy love unknown O Lamb of God, I come! A SISTER'S LETTER TO A SOME years ago a highwayman, known as "Rattlesnake Dick," was shot in California. He had been brought up in a pious, happy home, but had wandered far in the ways of sin and crime. In his pocket was found the following affecting letter from his loving, godly sister. It was dated "Sweet Home, March 14th. "MY DEAR, DEAR BROTHER,-I can scarcely believe, or rather realise, that I am again indulging in the privilege of addressing you with the hope of being heard or understood. And tremblingly I ask that you, my much beloved brother, the guide of my infant joys, the long lost friend of my childhood, will allow a renewed correspondence to open between you and your good old home. O! how our hearts have ached for a word from your own pen. Years have passed away since your last letter reached us-years A SISTER'S LETTER. 59 that now seem to be lifetimes. I have prayed the Father that he would restore you to the path of rectitude, but if he has not already, you say, 'Ah me! he will never save me !' But I say faithfully, He will. O, brother, will you not be saved? God sees your heart while you read these words. He knows if there is a secret wish there, it is to be a better man. If there be but a bud, the bud of a resolution he knows, hear him say, 'Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all things shall be added thereunto.' Jesus will raise your head, and make you a new man. Go to him, O! my brother. "Will you not write a few words to your own home? It may indeed be a bitter task, but it may prove to be a blessing! Do try to overcome every obstacle; look down deep into your heart and see if there is not a wish to remember your sister, your own affectionate and anxious sister, "HARRIET BARTER." Poor Dick! No doubt at one time he was a happy guileless boy, just like some of you, the "friend of a loving sister's childhood;" but he had listened to the voice of the tempter, and step by step had gone down deep, deep into the gulf of ruin. Reader, that letter cannot now reach the ears of Dick, but it speaks solemnly to you. It says, "Keep thy heart with all diligence." "If sinners entice thee, consent thou not." And with all earnestness it asks, "O brother, will you not be saved?" The first security for you in all time to come is to "seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness," and you cannot do so too soon. The Bible says :— "He that being often reproved and hardeneth his neck, shall be destroyed, and that without remedy." |