“That Vincent should ever have devoted himself to the ministry, giving his whole heart to its duties, is mainly owing, I believe,” said Mr. Effingham, “to the influence of your mother.”
“Oh! Vincent always says,” exclaimed Grace, “that he was the most wayward and wilful of boys, and that any good that he may ever do in this world is owing to her prayers and example.”
Effingham bent down his head, so that his voice should reach the ear of his wife alone,—“Vincent’s father has yet more cause,” he murmured, “to bless those prayers and that example.”
Clemence entered the church with a heart so full of gratitude, peace, and love, that there seemed left in it no room for a worldly care or an earthly regret. Through infirmity, weakness, and sorrow, she had humbly endeavoured to follow her Lord, and He had led her from darkness to light,—He had turned even her trials into blessings. Had she resigned wealth in obedience to His will? He had made poverty itself the channel by which the riches of His grace had been freely poured into her bosom. In poverty her husband’s affection had deepened,—that affection which, for the sake of conscience, she had hazarded to weaken or to lose; in poverty her son, removed from evil influence, had learned lessons of self-denial, faith, and love, which would make him her joy and crown through the ages of a blissful eternity; in poverty her own character had been strengthened,—she had learned more fully, more submissively to trust the love of her heavenly Father: and now her cup overflowed with blessings,—blessings which she need not fear freely to enjoy; for it was the smile of her Lord that had changed the waters of bitterness to the wine of gladness; it was from His hand that she had received her treasures—and those treasures were not her idols.
Whatever comes between the soul and Christ, the Fount of Light
Must cast a shadow on the soul, how fair soe’er it seem.
Yet need we not resign earth’s choicest blessings,—all is bright
When what we love obstructs not but reflects the heavenly beam.