Elsie Dinsmore | Page 7

as though she had
committed some great crime; while the rest of us think nothing of
getting angry half a dozen times in a day. And then she is forever
poring over that little Bible of hers; what she sees so attractive in it I'm
sure I cannot tell, for I must say I find it the dullest of dull books."
"Do you," said Rose; "how strange! I had rather give up all other books
than that one. 'Thy testimonies have I taken as a heritage forever, for
they are the rejoicing of my heart,' 'How sweet are thy words unto my
taste! Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth.'"
"Do you really love it so, Rose?" asked Adelaide, lifting her eyes to her
friend's face with an expression of astonishment; "do tell me why?"
"For its exceeding great and precious promises Adelaide; for its holy
teachings; for its offers of peace and pardon and eternal life. I am a
sinner, Adelaide, lost, ruined, helpless, hopeless, and the Bible brings
me the glad news of salvation offered as a free, unmerited gift; it tells
me that Jesus died to save sinners --just such sinners as I. I find that I
have a heart deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, and the
blessed Bible tells me how that heart can be renewed, and where I can
obtain that holiness without which no man shall see the Lord. I find
myself utterly unable to keep God's holy law, and it tells me of One
who has kept it for me. I find that I deserve the wrath and curse of a
justly offended God, and it tells me of Him who was made a curse for
me. I find that all my righteousnesses are as filthy rags, and it offers me
the beautiful, spotless robe of Christ's perfect righteousness. Yes, it
tells me that God can be just, and the justifier of him who believes in
Jesus."
Rose spoke these words with deep emotion, then suddenly clasping her
hands and raising her eyes, she exclaimed, "'Thanks be unto God for
His unspeakable gift!'"
For a moment there was silence. Then Adelaide spoke:

"Rose," said she, "you talk as if you were a great sinner; but I don't
believe it; it is only your humility that makes you think so. Why, what
have you ever done? Had you been a thief, a murderer, or guilty of any
other great crime, I could see the propriety of your using such language
with regard to yourself; but for a refined, intelligent, amiable young
lady, excuse me for saying it, dear Rose, but such language seems to
me simply absurd."
"Man looketh upon the outward appearance, but the Lord pondereth the
heart," said Rose, gently. "No, dear Adelaide, you are mistaken; for I
can truly say 'mine iniquities have gone over my head as a cloud, and
my transgressions as a thick cloud.' Every duty has been stained with
sin, every motive impure, every thought unholy. From my earliest
existence, God has required the undivided love of my whole heart, soul,
strength, and mind; and so far from yielding it, I live at enmity with
Him, and rebellion against His government, until within the last two
years. For seventeen years He has showered blessings upon me, giving
me life, health, strength, friends, and all that was necessary for
happiness; and for fifteen of those years I returned Him nothing but
ingratitude and rebellion. For fifteen years I rejected His offers of
pardon and reconciliation, turned my back upon the Saviour of sinners,
and resisted all the strivings of God's Holy Spirit, and will you say that
I am not a great sinner?" Her voice quivered, and her eyes were full of
tears.
"Dear Rose," said Adelaide, putting her arm around her friend and
kissing her cheek affectionately, "don't think of these things; religion is
too gloomy for one so young as you."
"Gloomy, dear Adelaide!" replied Rose, returning the embrace; "I never
knew what true happiness was until I found Jesus. My sins often make
me sad, but religion, never.
"'Oft I walk beneath the cloud, Dark as midnight's gloomy shroud; But
when fear is at the height, Jesus comes, and all is light.'"
CHAPTER SECOND

"Thy injuries would teach patience to blaspheme, Yet still thou art a
dove." --BEAUMONT'S _Double Marriage._
"When forced to part from those we love, Though sure to meet
to-morrow; We yet a kind of anguish prove And feel a touch of sorrow.
But oh! what words can paint the fears When from these friends we
sever, Perhaps to part for months--for years-- Perhaps to part forever."
--ANON.
When Miss Allison had gone, and Elsie found herself once more quite
alone, she rose from her chair, and kneeling down with the open