“No, my love; God will let nothing injure Arthur while he is good.”
“But Arthur’s not good! Arthur’s naughty. Arthur did not say his prayers!” And here, bursting into tears, he clung sobbing to his mother’s neck; while her fond arms encircling his form pressed him still closer to her heart in yearning tenderness. Then, in a voice so sweet, so gentle, she inquired, “Why did my love not say his prayers?”
“Arthur was thinking of his pretty new hat and coat, and so forgot them; and oh! mamma, I felt so badly here, (pressing his little hand upon his heart,) I could not sleep! and something seemed gone! and then it was so dark, I was afraid. Mamma, I will not wear them any more; they make me forget my prayers!”
“My love, the fault lies with yourself—not with your hat or coat. It was that you thought more of them than of the kind, good God, who gave them to you.”
“Mamma, if I say my prayers now, will God forgive me, and will he let me feel afraid no more?”
“Yes, love, God will forgive you, if you are sorry for forgetting them.”
He knelt—and while that cherub face, now bathed in pearly drops, was raised to heaven, he lisped, in accents sweet, a prayer to Jesus. Then, clasping his hands in joy, while a gleam of sunshine glistened through his tears, he cried, “Arthur’s not afraid now, mamma; he don’t feel alone any more!”
One fond embrace—and soon the little penitent was locked in slumbers sweet; while near, all radiant with the smiles of heaven, hovered his angel guide.
In an arbor, round which the jasmine and honeysuckle gracefully clung, mingling their spicy breath with the gentle zephyrs that fondly caressed their trembling leaves, sat a beautiful child, his curly locks resting upon his little arm, his whole soul mirrored in his deep, full eyes, as he gazed out upon the distant hills, now bathed in sun-set splendor. And, as he continued thus in childish thought to muse, the spirit of the flowers saw him encircled with an atmosphere of strange, mysterious beings; some, in their dull and heavy flight scarce rising from the earth, seemed busy linking chains to bind his spirit to their groveling appetites; others, with silvery wings sporting in sunbeams mounted high in air, while others still, of diamond light, to which the rays of mid-day sun looked pale, played round his noble brow.