“O what a long, long time to live!” slowly fell from Herman’s lips. He was a delicate boy, and thoughtful beyond his years, as is often the case with invalid children; and now he rested his pale, intelligent face upon his hand, with his eyes fixed on Uncle Tommy, and thought what a long, long time was ninety years! Then he looked upon the graves, and wondered whether any of those whose bodies were lying there knew what an old, old man was still seeing the sun shine so long after they were gone. There were little graves and large ones; Uncle Tommy knew almost all of them, and still he lived on all alone; and they had some of them left families. He wondered on and on; his reverie was short, but crowded with perplexing thoughts.
Uncle Tommy put an end to it, by saying, in answer to Herman’s words, “The time is only long, when I don’t mind our Father’s will. When I obey, as the sun, and the wind, and all about us in Nature does, then I’m as happy as a cretur can be; and time seems just right. But what I was a saying about going home was this; I a’n’t in a hurry to go, ’cause I’m here so long; nor am I wanting to stay; only just as God pleases. But when the time does come, I’ll be glad to go home, after my school time here is over. P’r’aps just as you feel now, Herman; and I hope when Uncle Tommy has gone, with the sunshine, out there, you little people will learn to love the fair works of God our Father, just as he does now. And don’t forget when you’re a going to be unkind or naughty, that you little ones, and all the little children, and all the grown people, are the fairest, noblest of God’s works. And if you think of Uncle Tommy, when you see the sun shine, and the pretty flowers and birds, and remember how he loved them, think of him when you are a going to strike one another, or do any naughty thing, and remember how often he has told you about the dear Jesus, who took little children in his arms and blessed them, and told all the people, great and small, to love God best, and then to love one another as they loved themselves. Now if you try to think of this, I don’t believe you’ll be naughty very often; and the fewer times you’re naughty, the happier you’ll be when you look round on this dear beautiful world.”
“But, Uncle Tommy,” said Nelly, “we forget about being good sometimes, when we get cross, and everybody scolds at us ’cause we are so naughty; and that makes us act worse, ever so much; don’t it, Ann?” appealing to a girl about her own age.
“Yes,” rejoined Ann, “nobody ever says anything about being good, in the way you do, Uncle Tommy; except in Sunday School, and in Church; and somehow it don’t seem just the same as when you talk. Oh, Uncle Tommy, I believe we should always be good children, if you could only be along with us all the time.”
“So do I!” “And I!” was heard from the little circle.
“Dear me!” cried Nelly, impatiently, “how I do wish we had a great big world, all our own, with nobody ugly to plague us; only just for Uncle Tommy and us to live in. Then we’d be good as could be. Don’t you wish so, dear Uncle Tommy?”
“No, dear children, I wish for no better, or bigger world to live in, than this. Our Father put us here, and put it in our own power to be happy; that means, to be good; and if we don’t make out to do what He wants us to do here, I don’t believe we should find it half as easy in a world such as folks dream about. It’s a wrong notion, to my thinking, to s’pose we could behave better in some other place than in the one where our lot’s cast in life, or at some other time than the present time going over our heads. Remember this, dear little people, when you grow up, and don’t wish for anything it isn’t God’s will you should have. Try all you can to mind the Lord, who loves you so well; and if trouble and sorrow come to you, as they do to every human cretur, and you can be sure it’s not your own doing, then patiently trust in our Father, and remember what the dear bells say:—
‘For God doth prove
Our constant friend;
His boundless love