“Of that good God who had sent his pure angel to be its guardian,” she added, in a still lower and more reverent voice.
The light returned again to Madeline’s face.
“‘How shall I do this?’ asked the mother, in her own heart; and the reply came. She did not know that it was the angel’s voice that gave the wished-for answer. So she took the little one’s hands in hers one evening, clasped and raised them upward, and said, ‘God bless little Amy.’ The baby was too young to repeat the words of her mother, or even to comprehend their full meaning; but the angel, who bent very near, breathed a holy feeling into her tender spirit, and she had a faint impression of something higher than the visible, and up to which she might look for blessing. How sweetly the angel smiled at this! how darkly frowned the watchful fiend! The first idea of God was given; and that was a great gain, for the angel could now be more intimately present with the child in this idea. So far the angel was triumphing over the fiend.”
“Are angels present with us when we think of God?” asked Madeline, interrupting Miss Harper, and speaking with the manner of one who felt an interest in the question.
“If we think of him reverently, they are.”
“How, reverently, Miss Harper?”
“As great, and good, and holy,” said Florence; “for then we shall desire to be like him, and angels are always present with us when we desire to be good.”
“And do they help us to be good?”
“Always. To them it is the most delightful of employments.”
The eyes of Madeline drooped. She sighed faintly, and remained silent. Florence waited for some moments, and then went on, speaking slowly and impressively:—