. Our Sunday book of reading and pictures . es of those who love the Lord. And is mine one ? said Abou. Nay, not so,Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,But cheerily still; and said, I pray thee then,Write me as one that loves his fellowmen. The Angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light. And showed the names whom love of God had blessed. And lo ! Ben Adhems name led all the rest. LEIGH HUNT. Sometimes, John Newton says, I com-pare the troubles we have to undergo in thecourse of a year to a great bundle of fagots,far too large for us to lift. But God d
. Our Sunday book of reading and pictures . es of those who love the Lord. And is mine one ? said Abou. Nay, not so,Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,But cheerily still; and said, I pray thee then,Write me as one that loves his fellowmen. The Angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light. And showed the names whom love of God had blessed. And lo ! Ben Adhems name led all the rest. LEIGH HUNT. Sometimes, John Newton says, I com-pare the troubles we have to undergo in thecourse of a year to a great bundle of fagots,far too large for us to lift. But God does notrequire us to carry the whole at once. Hemercifully unties the bundle, and gives us firstone stick, which we are to carry to-day, and then another, which we are to carry to-morrow,and so on. This we might easily manage ifwe would only take the burden appointed forus each day ; but we choose to increase ourtrouble by carrying yesterdays stick overagain to-day, and adding to-morrows burdento our load before we are required to bear [ 205 ] And now, as we again set out on our journey westward, the beautiful prairiecountry seemed more beautiful than ever, and we caught glimpses of thefertile valley of the Platte, in which our imaginary freehold estates lay awaitingus. On and on we went, with the never-ending undulations of grass and flowersglowing all around us in the sunlight—the world below a plain of gold, theworld above a vault of the palest blue. The space, and light, and colour werealtogether most cheerful ; and as the train went at a very gentle trot along thesingle line, we sat outside, for the most part, in the cool breeze. Occasionally wepassed a small hamlet, and that had invariably an oddly extemporized wooden houses were stuck down anyhow on the grassy plain, without anytrace of the old-fashioned orchards, and walled gardens, and hedges that bind,as it were, an English village together. Here there was but the satisfactionof the most immediate need
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