WHILE addressing a group of little children in a dame-school, upon the history of Adam and Eve, and our sinful natures, I observed the close attention with which one child regarded me. Her dress was superior to that of her companions, from whom she kept aloof; but she so placed herself on the form, that she could see without approaching me. I continued speaking of the sinfulness of our hearts, which showed itself in unkind words and thoughts. The color rose in Martha’s cheeks, and making an effort, she advanced tards me with a determined air, and said, “They all say I am a good girl at home; you are wrong to call me a sinner, for my heart is good, I know it is.” Then smoothing her white frock and colored sash, she added, “You do not know me.”
“I answered,” God, who made us, watches all we do, He knows our hearts better than we do; let us see what the Bible says in Romans 3:2323For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; (Romans 3:23).”
Little Martha, though ten years old, was, owing to a neglected education, unable to read the verse. One of the children assisted her. As soon as it was read, the little stranger turned pale and shed tears. I placed her on my knee, and spoke of the kindness of Jesus Christ to little children, and begged her to learn the verse, “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin.”
When the school hour was over, I learned from the mistress that Martha was a spoiled child, and had come to visit her aunt, who, finding her troublesome, had sent her to school.
The next week, I was pleased to find my little pupil repeat her lesson with feeling, and after a time she became willing to stand in the class. I then proposed her coming to my Sunday school. This she seemed to like much, but begged me to ask her aunt to let her go with me, and then she need not talk to the other children. The shrewdness of the request surprised me but, promising my assistance to induce her aunt to consent, I called and made the proposal.
“You are very kind, ma’am,” said her aunt, “but I do not expect my niece will stay much longer, and she could get no benefit in a few Sundays, and, while I have the charge of her, I do not wish to throw her among the villagers.”
I replied, “I feel an interest in this little girl, and, if it is agreeable, I will call for her as I pass your door, and leave her as I return.”
This offer was accepted, and the next Sunday morning Martha was waiting for me. She quickly fell in with the rules of the school, with the exception of leaving her class at prayer time, and always kneeling by my side. One morning she observed a Cottage Hymn-book in my hand, and expressed a desire to have one. Knowing that she could not read, I suspected that her eye was attracted by the red binding, and answered, “You will not be able to read it.”
Martha replied, “I have money to pay for it, and I can spell a verse, and then I will learn it, and say it to you.”
To my surprise, the following Sunday she repeated two verses of the well-known hymn-
“Not all the blood of beasts,” etc.
“Did your aunt choose this hymn for you to learn?” said I.
“No,” she replied.
“Did the servant?”
“No, she knew nothing about it; I chose it myself.”
“And what was there in those lines that pleased you?”
“I like them,” said Martha, “because they speak of the blood of Jesus.”
As I was anxious to discover what meaning she attached to these words, I asked, “Why do you like to hear of the blood of Jesus?”
The dear little child replied, “Because I want it; I have not forgotten what you taught me in the day-school, that the blood of Jesus takes away all sin; and the second verse in this hymn says that the heavenly Lamb can take away my sin; you told me that Jesus was called a Lamb because he was slain, and I want him to make me a good child.”
Much encouraged by this attention, Martha became the subject of my daily prayer.
One morning she was absent from school, and I was told her parents had sent for her to return home during the races, fearing she might be in danger. I requested her aunt to let me know when she returned. “Certainly I will, ma’am,” she answered, “but you will be sure to see her at the Sunday-school, for she takes great delight in what she learns there; she often tells the servant who dresses her, to think of another world, and to pray to Jesus Christ that her sins may be forgiven.” This information gave me much pleasure, especially as her aunt also told me that she was not the violent, unruly child she was at first, but that she was more thoughtful and obedient, and gave less trouble. The busy week of riotous pleasure closed, but Martha did not appear. Another week passed, and her place in the school was empty. I waited a fortnight, and then called on her aunt. I found her in deep mourning, and with much agitation she told me her niece was buried the day before. I was much shocked, and begged her, if able, to tell me the particulars of her illness. “I have nothing but what is pleasant to relate,” said the aunt; “when Martha returned home, she found her little sister Lucy not quite well, and spent the evening with her in the nursery. Nothing serious was apprehended, and the children slept together. The next day Lucy was very ill, and was separated from her brothers and sisters, and within three days died of the scarlet fever. Martha soon after sickened, and not knowing of her sister’s death, inquired after her; the nurse for some time put off answering her, till Martha said, ‘I know; I will not ask any more. I know my little sister is gone to Jesus: he loves little children. I shall soon die; I shall soon see Jesus, and then I shall be so happy — quite happy. Nurse, do you know that Jesus can take away all your sins, and make you a new creature? Look to him, do, nurse. You will nurse many little girls when I am gone, I wish you would talk to them about Jesus.’ Her weeping parents were standing by her bedside; her father asked her what he should do for her. Her answer was, ‘Believe in Jesus; love him as you have loved me, and then he will bring us together again, and then we shall part no more.’ To a friend who entered the room, she said, ‘You have been very kind to me, but have you been kind to God? Your heart is wicked, go to Jesus.’ Thus, this little child became a teacher those around her.”
A few weeks after this information, I received grateful acknowledgments from Martha’s parents, for the instruction their child had had in the Sunday-school; and they requested me to procure for them six copies of the Cottage Hymns, that their remaining children might learn the lines that had been so dear to their beloved Martha.
M.