sH-i ^> .% IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) Y A :- & /. fe 1.0 I.I 1.25 ■^ IM |l|{|2.2 Ill 1.8 1.6 V] <^ //, % -iS^ / rv* "Jyr>^K>^<>^^>^^%^<>o>^•^. Alone in the Wide, Wide World A MUSICALLY ILLUSTRATED SERVICE ■ \ I 111: RKV. J. R. ,\NDRi:\\'S, Author of " KmimjelUtic l„,V,.v,- '• f,„;. l,.nwn,er eir. I WILLIAM BRIGC.S, WESLEY lU'ILDINGS. *r Entered .iccordmc; to the Art of the Pailiampnt of CnnnHn, in the year on* thou-.ai)d eit;lit limiilr.'d a;i(i n.-iymie, by William Buiwis, in the Offic -■■'V.-. Minister of Agriul'ure, i. OtUT'". IV J. ALONE IN THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD: A Musically Illustrated Service. 1(Y THK RKV. J. H. ANDRKWS. JLbc JB^cn above. Or fiiur .v/mc/w n rs nr-#T* ±=kl2 4: LI^:zI:Et==:t-.=t #-T-S^- _^> T- ,- -^ ^_ #_ - -C, — ->— — \s—. — » \-* • •-- r-i 1- ' / i I I V — s- D.S. 2 =S- -5- ±::^?i=>=:J=-bt:z=;;;r=-!- J . — / 1 We're IxMiiid fur tlif laml of ilic imii' mill the lioly. I Tin- liniiif i)f till' liappy, the kingdom ; of low, j Ye wiiiuitTt'rs from (lol i'l t!ir hroad i road of folly, ! Oil, say, will yon ^^o to the Kdci! above'' | Will yon go? Will you go? ! Oil, say, will you go to the Eden \ 4 March on, hajipy jiilgrims ; the land is above? j Iw'forc yon, I And soon its t«ii tiionsaud ilelights 2 In that blessed land, neither sighing nor ; we shall pn^M No po\ert>' there ! no, the saints aie all wealthy. The heiis of His glory, who-ic nature is love ; No sickness can reach them, that conn try is healtli.\ ; Oh, say, will you go to the Ivjcn al>ove? angtiish Can lireathe in the fields where the glorified rove ; Ye heart-burdened ones, w ho in misery langnish, Oh, say. will yon go to the Eden above? \'es, soon we shall walk o'er tlie fiids of bright glory, (above. And drink the pnre joys of the Eden Will ymi go? Will you go? Oh. yes, we will go to the Eden alwve I 4 The Christirin Church, from its foundation, has been subjected to persecution. lUit e-ery student, whether of nibhcal or Church history, must have been struck with this remarkable fact, that Cod lias never, in any of Mis dealing's with man, left Himself without at least an adequate witness on this earth. Abel, luioch, Noah, and the patriarchs and pro- phets, were all so many links in one great j^olden chain of testimony which we see stretching rijht across the world's hi^toi), from tlie Creation to the birth of Christ. Just as truly existing, though pcihaps not always so easily traced, is the silver thread of witnesses for Christ, from the days of the Apostles unto the present time. Feeble, indeed, was ihegTnnmer of heavenly light that shone otii during the long period of the Middle Ages ; but the light wai tliere, though it did seem at times to have expired. A divine hand kcjit it burning uniil such time as it pleased 11 im, then let it burst forth again in night ilispelliny radiance, flooding great parts of the world with its rt^viving beams. In the reign of I.ouis XIV'., of F'rancc, a wave of persecution l)urst over the Huguenots, or French Protestants. Thousands continually lay u])on their crimscm couches until life's slowly ebbing tide terminated their sut'tcrinjs. On .St. liartiiolomevv's night, at Paris, seventy thousand |>eople were massacicd. \'.i. t' e !;.:d t of this terril^Ii.' persecution tlieif were ni.un families who JvM tc;-..-. :!i);; ') I) t'.e doctrines of Christ, and ejicaped death by leaving their na.ve land, a.id finding refu;^;o on a fo;. i^.n shore. 'il::; KiTvciM;, through the inui:cnce of the i\.oman Catholic ])riest- hood, on ,1 s;cl: bid, intimated 'hat if he were ai;.'iin restored to health, he would s'.and Ly //ii: Chtiiih. il.:ving bceMi restored to lu';iitli, he issued a decree tl'..it the Protestants should either "recant or tlie.' As soon as the mandate was i .s'lcJ, family al'icr family left tl;. ir homes, .and under dis- guise, commeiK ' (1 a nomadic life, which was the only way they escaped the edge ofil.e sword. "Cl^e pilocim BaiiO. Is IV . riR. Nkam:, frdiii Uic (jrefk. (Ikkman. lliolirnflll I'y hand i)t' pil;,M'iius, if y()r It* fiiith l)y which yo see Him, 'I'lii! tri-;its th.it !»> - .set you, \V!i,it an? tlicy but Hi.s jew - els, <> ninnriiful bund of ]iilyriir\is. If on - As .Te The hope Tlio sor - Of right Look up - ward ye mis (lid in which rows ve ce - )('s - ward to will tread, for iiu'ii ; yo yearn, <'n - durt', tial wtctli ? the skies. With .)(' - KiiH ii-« your Lead - tT, To Jt' • Oh, hap - i)y if yn hun - jifcr Ah -Ih - The lovo thiit tiinmgh all troiil)lt's To Ilini Tlu) niaii ■ i - fold temp- ta ■ tions That dcatli What am thfy hut tho lad - dcr Set up WhiTo such a liirlit af - Hie - tion Siiall win I siH as your Iload I sus hunf,'('rt'd then ! a - lout) will turu : a - louii can curi' ; t.i licav'u on I'arrliV yiiu such a jiri/.f. mmm It was a cloudless morninif in June ; the bright rays of the sun were tinging the landscape Aiili gold; a solitary lark sjjrang from her ncit and soared upward with a gush of song, and soon the whole air became voca' with happy singers that vied with each other in carrying the morning hynm highest toward the portals of the skies. The blushing flowers were decking earth's green carpet with beauty; the River Seine, which lay clear and calm within its banks, mirrored the surrounding objects in its glass-like surface. A flush of air shooting across the steel bright water made a pathway of light, as if an angel's wing had swept the river from bank in bank. In the suburbs of Pans a gentleman's residence was erected, h was built in (iothic style, and in imposing grandeur. The large bay windows that were on the south side of the residence enabled one to take a survey of the landscape. Tlie grounds that surrounded the house were laid out in the most enchanting style. In the garden grew flowerets of varied hues. In the rear of the house were outbuik'-ngs, and often the stamp of blank- eted horses could be heard. Ifone had been permitted to enter within the massive doors of this magnificent homestead, he would have gazed upon a luxurious scene, 'i he floors were covered with the choicest Persian carpets; the ceilings were gilded in the most superb manner ; costly oil-painted landscape scenes hung on the walls; the parlor suite was made of stamped plush velvet, and the curtains of lace at the windows were rich in appearance. Each room was furnished correspondingly. The L)e JuUiot family — a family of wealth and distinction were its occupants. Monsieur de Julliot, the head of the household, was a gentleman who had seen sixty summers. He was tall, and possessed a well-built physique His hair was gray, the smoothness of his expansive brow was defaced with wrinkles, and his attractive face bore the pale, unmistakable look of care. Maitresse de Julliot was ten years her husband's junior. She was wondrously gifted by nature, not only in mind and person but in heart. V 6 Her black h.'iir was besprinkled with j,'''''*)i 'i' ^ l'*^'' P''l<^ countenance always wore a smile. Heliind a pair of spectacles were large sparkling brown eyes. Hy scrutinizing her face more closely, one could have seen the furrows of care on her brow. Three children were the result of their marriage. Henri, the eldest, was now twenty-five years of .i};e. He was tall and handsome, with dark brown eyes, light liaii' and a fair and ruddy counte- nance. The second child, Marie, was two years younger. .She had a light, graceful, girlish forni ; a face of surpassing beauty, beauty that is rarely seen, save from the imagination of the painter; dark shining curls falling nn her neck and shouldeis, smooth as a child's. The youngest, I.ouis, was a tall, slender boy of eighteen summers. He had a classical appearance, and was affable to all with whom he came in contact. Without exception they all possessed lovable natures. Often as the setting rays of the sun placed their golden circlet upon the brow of nature, their musical voices could be heard singing such songs as these: — 1l3oinc, Sweet Iboine. —I John Hou'.kkp I'avnk. m^i 1. 'iMid })l(':i - Hwrt-ii and pal - a - c»\s though wo may roam, 2. I tf.izt' on the moon as I tread the drear wild, 3. An t'x - ih' from home, snlen • dor daz - zlc« in vain; •^ -0- fV- 1 — lii-zdir.: ±---t:: Jiig -»- -ij. ^gffcjl^g^^li^^jp^ Be it And Oh, r ev f.M-l piv.> that mo jO mmm no himi - hlc, there's no place hko homn ; my moth - er now thinks of hor child; my low - ly tliatch'd cot • tage a - gain ; Et itz: -Jg!— ±: ^^pp?^; =^=F= '^W^ lit: T- -• a • »~ ^=J=zqi: lEEj^lE^i gi 1*1 1 A cliann from the skies seems to As fihe looks on that moon from our The birds sino^-ing gai - ly, that g|i^i^ ^ hal own came -|2 low us there, cot - tage door, at my call ; -Jzz-. -f — -1 aiiiimiill^il Which, seek tliro" thf world, i.-< iu'"('r met with olscwhtTH Thro' the svoocibiiic wluwo fivvgninw siiall chci'.r me ii>, iiort*. Give mo thejii, uiui that peacu of mind, dear • er than all. -^-f- r^fe -a!..__J t«r=»ijt=J Home, home, ■••■•• -fV- ,ft iiSif;: :t.: r«i: :t.- -Lt: — b:-.hp- l» zJ!ilit:=Jz:F- |g :zi:z. I JL^W-W —. — =i-[-1.-?-(!- .-^r — ^- lliiiiiiiiSii^fl Hwwt, sweet homi', There's no pliiee like hunie. Oh, there's no place like home. f=F^ On the morning already referred to, Monsieur de Julliot, accompanied by his family, was quietly pacing the gravelled walk of the lawn in front of his residence, when a stranger approached him with a quick step, and addressed him, "Good morning, Monsieur. Monsieur de Julliot, I presume.'" '* Yes," replied the gentleman. Taking a sealed note from his pocket, the stranger presented it to Monsieur de Julliot with an air of great concern, and, with a polite bow, bade the family adieu. Immediately after the departure of the mysterious messenger De Julliot broke the seal of the note and read the following: — " Calais, /unejrd. " My dear dk Julliot, — With much regret I send this communi- cation to you. The friendship which has existed between us for so many years necessitates me to make you acquainted with this intelligence, that is, I fear, founded upon facts. Our Emperor, as you are aware, has issued an edict that Protestants must renounce their belief and er^brace Catholi- cism, or be put to death. To carry out his mandate, a number of bands of dragoons have been commissioned to visit the cities, towns and villages of our native land. I have reason to believe that one of the companies is in your neighborhood, and ere long may pay you a visit. *' Your true friend, "Louis de Croix." 8 " Florence," said Monsieur de Julliot, addressing his wife, "my friend De Croix, in this communication, intimates that a company of dragoons is in this vicinity and may pay us a visit. We must prepare for tiieir rt:ception." The family retraced their footsteps to the house, where they were engaged until sunset preparing for the dragoons. The night at last arrived, but there were no signs of an approaching enemy. The moon commenced to career the heavens as the beautiful (.^ueen of the Night. The stars trooped 'nit on the \ast drill-ground of the heavens, and, like so many beaming and love-lit eyes, watched nature as she lay in the cradle of repose. Monsieur de Julliot and his eldest son, Henri, scale^l the hillock at the back of the house to reconnoitre. "Hark I" interrupted Henri, as they were about to retrace their foot- steps. They stopped and listened. Presently the clatter of iron-shod hoofs broke the silence of the night, and the coarse laugh of approaching horsemen could distinctly be heard. " The dragoons are coming," whispered Monsieur de julliot, as they turned to descend the hill. Not a word was spoken as the father and son pursued the narrow road that led to the house. At last the homestead was reached. Maitresse dc Julliot was sitting in the parlor anxiously waiting to hear the footfall of her husband. .\s he approached she arose to meet him. "Florence," said De Julliot in an u.^dertone, "the dragoons are coming. We must hide. \'ou must accompany Henri to ymir hiding- place while I look after the servants. Ad'eu, until we meet again ! " The two were locked in each other's embrace for a moment, and then separated. Henri conducted his mother along the corridor into the dining-room, where the latter was secured in a hiding-place. Henri hastened to meet his father, who was awaiting his arrival in the parlor. Giving the son a sealed package, the father said with great emotion : " Henri, my boy, 1 place this package in your care. We are about to conceal ourselves, but we know not the result of the visit of the soldiers. Do not unseal these papers until it is necessary. We may never meet again. He a Christian, and remember there will ultimately be an end to all this dreadful persecution. Adieu I God bless you !" The two were clasped in each other's arms for a moment, and then they parted. Unknown to either the) parted to meet no more. i) [I'n 1)C sunt; liy tlio f liuir, to tlic tune Dennis, />/i. , sittint;. ) NVoKri'; iiv Rk\. I. R. A.sdkkws. 7'/i/\ worhi is full of sorrow^ Temptation^ cnye and fniiii ; \Vc hope to meet on tlie eternal inorron^ Never to part again. Henri was left alone with Louis, as .Monsif^ur dc Juiliot speedily hastened along the corridor with Marie. Taking the sealed package from his pocket, Ilt-nri gave it to his brother, and said : " I^'^pa gave nie this to prot(>( I, but I think you ought to take charge of it, because you will be with Marie if anything happens to nie. Don't unseal it for some time. Adieu ! ' The brothers separated, and Louis went to join his sister, who was crouching down in the loft in one of the buildings in the rear of the house. Henri hastened to see if all the doors were securely fastened. Just as he reached the dining-room, the "tramp, tramp, tramp"' of horses was heard. Th2 coarse laugh of the dragoons broke in upon the stillness of the evening hour. A voice in authority demanded, - " Open, in the King's name ! " , A pause was made. Suddenly the back door was forced open, and the pale light of the moon shone brightly upon the form of Henri de Julliot. The soldiers stood aghast as they were suddenly ushered into the presence of an unexpected personage. His dark brown eyes glistened, and his fair and ruddy countenance shone with radiance. He stood motionless and apparently fearless. One of the soldiers, who seemed to be in command, approached and, in .iP. enticing manner, addressed the youth : " Well, young man, you are standing in the presence of a company of dragoons, who, in the King's name, demand you to renounce your heresy and join the Catholics." With undaunted courage the youth replied : " Sir, I am a Christian, and I intend to hold to the religion of my fathers." This sentence sealed his doom. Quietly the Captain drew a pistol from his belt and pointed it at the breast of the heroic youth. " Recant or die 1 " demanded the ruffian. " I cannot give up my faith," was the answer. A loud report suddenly broke the silence, and without a groan, the young soldier of the cross fell mortally wounded at the feet of his persecutor. A pause was made. The soldiers gazed with tearless eyes upon the form of their dying victim. As they were about to leave the room, the 10 door of a recess opened, and a pale, trembling form rushed forward to the spot where the almost lifeless body of the youth was lying. It was Maitresse de Julliot. The soldiers were at first awe-struck at her appear- ance ; but after the first sensation was over, a look of pity and sympathy crept over the countenances of some of the least brutal of the company as the mother knelt by the side of her darling boy. She raised his head, and said : " Henri, my dear, speak to your mother 1 " The eyes of the youth opened, a forced smile crept over his counte- nance, his lips quivered as he said, in a faint voice, " I am going to the Better Land, mamma, I will meet you again. Adieu, until — ," and then he passed into the spirit world. XTbe Beautiful Oate. Tempo di man-la 1. All our lovod ones art' passing a - way, 2. Oh, we cliLTisli, in nioni'ry'H bright sture, 3. In that land that is faireist and best, Liko the sweetest and fairestof Happy visions no time can ef - Where no sorrow can ev - er be - 3e^ 5f| i^3 --5-,-::,=T?^« 'zr*'. ^ -.L±^t-- 5-tt ^5 ♦♦ "^ "^ -0- "^ ^f"*" ^f 5"*" 5 ^= tnl; *: ■A~-^.- tlowerH, face, tide, — -^faz=::,v=:-:^i.-l=v=^ - On - ly bloH-Koni -nig just for a clay, Of the lost ones in glad days of yore, We shall lin • ger at last in sweet rest, ^--^: On this They who With the ^^=^3-^ --•— ^ 11 -*,— L 1 , w. — ^_i-2r-T- sor - rowfdl ciirtli-liuuldf ours. cht'civd 118 with ht-auty and grace ktst (jiifs again by our aide. iq-r: ■A:. Di'Rr. ad lib. S~ Sr— 1 TiifV aif go - iTig from you and from One V)y one tlicy liavt- faded a- W'f an' \\ an ■ del' - iutr lionifonc )iv l=?:S3E£il3^li^i^^_ ^^^^E^^ I9ife.: i:t=: ._^»_ ;^ ^ei^n^t:»i^^l=^Eil^ me, way, one, l''or no long-i'V with ns can they wait; Hut we- For no long-fr «)nc>arth could they wait; lint we- To that promised hind, wca - ry and hite, And wo 5«::ra: ii& m m :4- -4- know, in the ghiddays U) be, know, in some bright Kuniiy day, know, wiien our journey isdone, We shall meet l)y the beautiful gate. We will meet by th(? beautiful gate. We will meet by the beautiful gi",te. ^-i; »3: :3S^3^ a-t :?: i pr^^i i 5 CHORUS. if -i y. l ^^^n T"] *^ — ^'~A *^ — J^~T — '~=J^ b~^ A— K — t :s=i We will meet by tlie gate, bv tlio -?^^ —\ ^~-r-» — »- » — » — » — • — 0- beau - ti - ful gate, Where the A=|i=:jc ±— L :!J: 12 — I — —I — r?— I!- ^ .-.-.-:a m. > — •-—• -1 ;m - ^'cls our (.■oiniiiff nliall wait ; Wlu-n wo croHH o'er the tifle, to tin 4t. m-'M. ^ i: ' i: "iL ^ ^ ^ m.' *. It: 5:es^33^ ±=z± :f-=t: 53: It: -#-i-# ^5=^: :^ r(7. PS^^^SiE^^^i=|^l|=l fwfi't o • tlicr sido, Wo will meet by tlrti itcau - ti - ful gatt\ ITS hz=jt:zrz=n-=s — r> '^-l=:zi:^=i< — > pjit: pr rpimi»: ?il The frantic mother was cruelly torn from the side of her heroic boy, and a recantation of the Protestant faith demanded. Ihit the same Ueing vho enabled the youth to be courageous in the great trial hour, now invisibly stood l:)y her side. " Where is my husband ?" demanded the excited lady. " Where her ladyship will be in a few moments if siie does not recant,'' answered the Captain in a decisive tone. " Is he dead ?" interrogated the laay. " He is !" was the reply. With her hands clasped and her eyes set upon the ceiling, Maitresse de Julliot uttered her last short prayer. At the close of the petition a sharp report of a pistol was heard. With a cry of agony, the mother fell by the side of her son, and her soul was carried by angel messengers to the calm abode of the blessed dead. XIo tbc Xant> wberc 5csus DwcUetb. J. TtPTON. G. S. Weeks. 1. To the hind where .1l>-sus dwollftli, Home of pu - ri - ty and love ; 2. Soon these lonpfin^r eyes Hihall see Him, I, a sinner, .saved by grace, 3. Short and swift hath been the journey Through this narrow vale of tears, ^__ ^ — ^ — « — * — n — ^-T- l " I" — ,-* — *— b# — # • f-T-^- — I i;i >T-d- « — f — tf — -f — « — «-I 1-N- 1^5: :^ :1^ I'romisod rest of all His loved ones, The .Te ■ ni • sa-lem a-lwve, For my -self and imt a-nolli-er, Shall be • Ixikl Hiin fivce to face ; Hut I soon siiall dwell with Jesus, Through the cy • cles of the years ; r— r-- 'i 1 1 ^--N— -N- '^ sl-d 1 — a-]--^ ( ^ — N ' — __} — \ — ~-j I iny hap - i)y steps am bend- iiip. And I S'xrn sliall reach the gates, Shall re-eeivo liis bless -ed welcome, All the storms of life o'er past, Throtigh the long e - ter - nal Kun-shine Of tlie mv - er - ending rest, # •__^__#, _g-__# ,_# ^ ^ 9-Tf * 0—0—0 g^J — h- 1 r • > • :-t:: t' — i— — It: :p£BE !_^. -1 0-i. -Q '-• ^^ — — f -- 1 -o-'- ' Where, in all His matchless bean-ty, Christ, my lov - ing Saviour, waits. En • ter in to share his glo - vy. Shout- ing vie - to • ry at last. I shall see Him, servo Him, love Him, In the mansions of the blest. 70. ^ ^ ^ ;&■- fcl?it=t: &^ fiiifczr: enoRus. Hark ! the niu soft-ly, softly stealing, _S > _^___> J '-^f r^s i=i=^ s s l££Ei Hark I the music soft-ly, soft-ly steal-ing, r-^w, *k.. „„ «,i „i,. ■■.. „ Ifarklthenm - .sic soft - Iv steal-ing! F'"m the an-gd cho.r a- -*. ?-if_^-# ,_/2 — ^ — .-0 — — ^ — .f"—*- rt»- ^m^% F=f if: tzz± 5: ■v— !,»-t;- I cr-.-d-.-'- ^ -0—0 — 0—0 — • —#-!-«>—# — ^ -•—•—•—•— #—f ' -«»-i " far. They are singing, swt;etly, sweetly singing, Enter in the gates ajar. ^J^lg^^^i 14 After tlio inigedy ;ibo\e referied to, the soklier.-, retired to rest. Two of the company were appointed as sentinels. Nothing of any consequence happened during tiie night ; but when tiie rays of the rising sun tinged the horizon with gold, the Emperor's dragoons commenced the search of the De Juliiot residence. Every room was visited, and destruction and disorder marked the soldiers' course. The time of departure at last arrived. The horses, which had be<;n m the st.iblcs, were harnessed, and a speedy retreat was made. Just as the last sound of the departing company died away, Louis de Juliiot came cautiously from his place of refuge to reconnoitre. The silence of death reigned everywhere, and the truth dawned upon his mind that probably tlie members of the family were either taken captives or were dead. He hastened back to his sister, and gently intimated the hopes and fears he entertained. The brother and sister emerged from their safe retreat. As they were about to ascend the steps which led to the back door of the family residence, a scene presented itself to their view that engraved itself on their memory. On the second step lay the pale, stitTened form of their father, lie was enjoying the rest from which no mortal awakes till the resurrection morning. As the two orphans gazed upon the scene, a sigh of unutterable anguish escaped their lips. The tears trickled freely tiown their heeks. Not a word was spoken, as the lonely orphans resumed their seal' h. They pursued their way to the dining-room. The door was open, and as tht peered into the room they beheld a second scene, from which ihey shrank. i lieir eldest brother lay upon the floor locked in the arms of cieath. A peaceful looV; remained on his pale visage. Close by his side lay his mother, with a smile on her countenance. The poor orphans little thought this was the smile that rested on the face of a Christian who was no more, as far as this world was concerned. " Look ! " exclaimed Marie, " she smiles. Louis, go after some water I '' As Louis ran to obey the command, Marie threw herself by the side of her mother and raised her head, as she said ; " Mamma, speak to me 1 " Alas I alas ! that voice was hushed in the stillness of death. Louis returned with the water, which was gently placed on their parent's brow ; but no signs of life were discerned. The fact gradually dawned upon their minds that their mother was dead, and they sank down in despair, and cried bitterly. At length they again possessed enough courage to visit the other rooms. Destruction and disorder everywhere met their gaze. As the night shades were creeping over nature the children retired to rest, breathing a short prayer for protection during the night. 16 khV , H. F. r.VTK, Bbi^e witb /IDc. Wm. H. Monk. pj^^i^aiii 1. A - bidf witli nic! fiist falls tlif •J. .Swift ta its clusc ebbs -lUt life's '.i. I ncedTliy preseiifo cv' - I'y 4. I ft'ar no foe, wit.'i Thco at .'). It(,'V(!al Tli.v -self be - f )rt' my =F mw^m^ »'V - Mil - ti'lc. Tilt' (lurk • iicss lit - tie (lay; Kartli'sjuvs f,Ti)W pas • siiij^ boiir; What 1/i.t, 'I'iiy hand to iiK'ss; Ills liav no i'l(i'< - inj,' t-yt's; Shino thruiiffh the r-^^-f- — <& (5I--I — F « •- ^ii --«- ilcep - ens —Lord, \\ith dim, its glo - lies j^racH can fod the weight, and ttMis no gloom and pnint me -»-- ig :!?:=a:: -0- X'- me a - bitle ! Wht.'ii o - thci' help - ers pass a - way; Change and (1»* -cay in tempter's power? Who, like Thy - self, mv liit - ter - ness; Where is lieath's stiiifc? where, to the iskies; Heaven's niurning breaks, and :t: US'- fail and coniforta flee. Help of tlie helpless, oh, a -bide with all a - round I see; (J Thou who ehangest not, a -bide with guide and stay can be? Thro' cloud and sunshine, Lord, a- bide with grave, thy vie • to - ry? I triumph still, if Tliou a-biflewith earth's vain shadows fiee; In life, in death, O Lord, a -bide with me! mtt! me! nie! me! S ^ i-- ^~r^- -t- -9- r~i- riZ- ]] When the pale shafts of light were shooting iip the eastern sky, where the bright star of dawn hung over the phicid bosom of the River Seine, the two children awoke, and commenced to prepare to leave the neighborhood. Having partaken of a scanty repast, the lonely, heart-broken orphans commenced to plan for the future. Already they realized that they were alone in tlie wide, wide world. The sealed package that had been entrusted to his care on that fatal night by Henri was produced by Louis, The con- tents were soon revealed. A sum of money was enclosed, u ith the address of two relatives of Monsieur de JuIIiot in England, and hi;- friend Monsieur de Croix in Calais. A letter of counsel was eagerly read. A consultation followed, w)iich resulted in the resolution to go to Calais and thence to EnL'land. 16 " We must take a last look at dear papa, and mamma, and Henri," said Marie, as the tears gathered in her eyes. The two friendless children then visited, for ihe last time, the lifeless forms of their dear departed friends. They kissed the cheek of each, and sobbed bitterly, and then turned away. All the provisions that could be procured were placed in a satchel. A short prayer for guidance and protection was uttered b> Louis, and thf*n the two left the shades of the old homeitead to tread on the crowded high- way of life. IResiguation. " I am \irirr and needy ; yet the Lord thinketh upon nic."-- Ps. xl. 17. " When thou pasBest throucfh the waters I will be with thee : and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee."— IsA. xliii. 2. Grazioso. '^-^- =^: ■j — ^"^ — I— ^ -d d * *- *=i--*f=4= 1. I know not if tlio dark or bright Shall he . . 2. Dear fa - ce.s may siuTound my hearth With smiles 3. Mv bark is waft-ed to the strand Rv hrcatli . my lot, and glee; di - vine, mm If Or And ■SfZlZ '^^^mm^^^M^^^ that wherein my soul delight Be best . I may dwell a - lone, and mirth Bo strange on the helm there rests a Hand More strong or not ; It to me ; The than mine : One ■\z^z -0-0- rt: 0-0- v+ m — .:tft±:T=S=irJ====: :ft fel "^^^^^^^^m^ may be mine to drag for years Toil's heti dear-est friend.s I have on earth May all who has known in stonns to sail, I have vy chain, de - part; on board; Or The A - 17 (i;vy luid night my piix" ■ est joys niay ixjve tliu rug - ing jiic'iit Ik' tears, On fade aiid leave An of tlie gi.le, I l...(l . of ach ■ ■ ing liear . my nam : lieart. Lord. !?li^!^E^i}^t^=li^=;l CHORUS. But this ... I kiKiw, . . There is a Hand di - vine, That Jiut this I know, where'er I go, That l£r±7riit:==.:;;=r:::=;^i=t==;^--=tr-ii:^ii^^ ■^ -^ ■«. mil! — 0^-^ «^_ -#-T ^1 :3St lleptat ad Uh. holds . . . me ntill, . holds me still, thrcj' ev'- ry W hat ■ ev - e iiiia r lot he mme. — #-—#——• It: . ^ r f r^ *. ' -^ -i I- . ■ Ij 1 |j • • * • 1 1/ 1 ^ ■ ■■ 1 1 ^""^ • for two days the orphaned children pursued their way through the mountain paths and rocky roads. They avoided passing- through any towns, fearing tliey might arouse the suspicion of the inliabitants. At night they would sleep beneath the shadows of the leaf-covered tree. At the close of the second day they came to a small village, which they ventured to enter, in order to purchase provisions. They were soon confronted with a small bakery, which was an old dingy structure. A Frenchman, with a very respectable appearance, stood behind the counter. As they entered he greeted them courteously. Whilst the two young strangers were partaking of some refreshments the baker scrutinized their countenances minutely. Their conversation and mannerisms aroused his suspicions that they were Protestants. It was not long before he ventured on an overture. Being a Protestant himself, the good-natured Frenchman soon became very friendly, and gave them an earnest invitation to remain as his guests for a fc days. Marie, who was not feeling well, gladly accepted the invitation. I'hcy were ushered into the parlor, where the Frenchman's wife was introduced. 18 " What is Monsieur's n?.nvi ?" asked the good-natured lad). " Louis de JiiUiot, and my sister is called Marie," answered the youth. " Marie is not ''eeliny well, I i)resume?" said their hostess, addressing the young lady. " ! am not feeling well, but I hope ere long to be sufficiently recovered to resun.e our journey," answered Marie, in a low tone. The day passed weo'.ily away, anrl the time at last arrived to retire to rest. Marie was a little worse, but did not coniplain. Aljoiit four f)'clock in the morning, the bell that was placed l)y Marie's bedside rang, and as quickly as possible, Louis attir'jd himself and went into his sister's room. She lay pale and motionless on the bed. As he approached her eyes opened and a forced smile crept o\ cr her face. A thrill of sorrow passed through his heart. The thought flashed through his mind th.it, perhaps, she was dying. He rang the bell more loudly, in order that the inmates of the house might be aroused, and then sat in the chair close by the beil. " Louis, I fear my end lias come," Marie whispered, as Louii took her hand in his. " Oh, do not say that," said the grief-stricken brother, with great emotion, at the same time checking his tears. " If you leave me, what shall I do?" At this moment their host and hostess arrived, and, after asking a few questions, held a shore consultation, which resulted in the Frenchman's departure for a physician. Twenty minutes elapsed ere he returned with the cbject of his search. The physician was ushered into the young lady's presence. After making a few inquiries, he called the P>enchman and his wife into an adjoining room. " I fear," he said, " that the young lady is dying. She has received a chill through exposure, and has hurted her constitution through walking so far." " iS there no hope?" " There is no possibility of her recoverv ; in a few minutes she may pass away." The three drew near the bedside, and perceived that the end had nearly come. They stood there so still, gazing on her, that even the ticking of the watch seemed too loud. Louis perceived the fact that soon he would be alone in the wide, wide world. "Oh, do speak once more ! " Louis said ; and, stooping over her, he spoke in her ear, " Marie, just speak to me '. "' Her eyes unclosed; a smile passed over her face; she tried to raise her head, and to speak. " Dear Louis 1 " she said, with a last effort, throwing her arms about his neck. In a moment they dropped again, and as Louis gazed on her he saw a spasm of mortal agony pass over her face ; she struggled for breath. ,She lay panting' on her pillow ;is (jiie exhausted ; the eyes rolled up and fixed. Ah, wliat said those eyes that spoke so nuich of lieaven ? Earth was nearly passed, and '-.uthly pain ; hut so solemn, so mysterious, was the irium[.hant brightness of that face, that it checkefl even the sobs of sorrow. They pressed around her in Ijrcaihless stillness. Without doubt you have watched a settintj sun as it gradually glides away into the bosom of the evening, and h ive observed that it is more beautiful just before it is wrai)peti in the folds of the ni^ht, than at any other period of the day. In the morning it is lovely, fringing the clouds with amber and with gold, and bathing the world in li^iht. At mid-day it is more beautiful, shining full orbed upon the world, and making it smile with the cheer of summer, liut at eventide, it is tlie most lovely ; making the cioiids curtains of the richest dye, the sea like one wa\e of silver, the earth like a splendid painting of the most superb colors, and the sun itself appearing like one vast body of crimson glory. As Marie nears her fin.il home, her expectation rises into divinest ecstacy ; visions of endless glory wave before the eye of her faith ; and raptures, sui h as till the burning seraphim, fill her soul. Death's visage is not terrible to her, but radiant as an angel's smile. Death wraps her in a garment of glory, and letting in the sunlight of the celestial city upon her soul, it presents the full glories of heaven clearly to her \ iesv, and then while l)odily pangs are deeply agonizing, death comes a triumphant chariot to sweep her home to heaven. " Marie,'' saitl Louis, gentU'. A bright and glorious smile passed over her face, and she said : " I am going to papa, mamma, and Henri. (iood-bye, dear Louis, until we meet again in heaven. We shall not be parted long : ' Marie gave one sigh, and passed from death unto life. Farewell, beloved child ! the bright eternal doors have closed after thee ; we shall see thy sweet face no more. Oh, woe for him who watched thy entrance into heaven, when he shall wake and find only the cold, gray sky of daily life, and thou gone forever. peacetuU^? Sleep, I H 7^ I ! ^1 1. Peace -ful - ly lay 2. Close to her loiio 3. Qui - et - ly sleep, her down to re>t ; I'lnee the turf kind and nar - row house, (Jracefu) - ly wave, be - lov - e(l one. Rest from thy to ly -. . yo thy toil,- tny 20 ^^^m^^^^m^mm iMi luT luciijit; Sleeping in Jc - h\i-i, lio • in-jith tlic .-uxl, \\\\ - low bniij^lis; Flnw'rMuf tlio wild woiwl, ycmr o - ilurs hIihiJ lii-liur 'n (Jdiic; HiMt tin the tnuiiii trom the op' ■ iiiii^f skios -_ J .^i-jf-— _^ •. _# — — #_ ._• — <» — *_ _|5 *-_ « 1 _ CllORCS. Wliilt'tlm piiro Hniil is rcst-iiig witli (Jod.l O-vtT tlie lio - ly, iH'iiu-ti - fiil dead. ■ Peace-ful ■ ly sU-tp, Hills tlit'O from dust to glo - ry a. - rist-. J :g:^ s= :t; #-: # *-, I t-!?:iz:=4Nzz:1r:t^TZ=i=g:^ir«=iri:T== ■a taiZT*!; PP iffin i^lilp IVuff tul - ly sltcp, Slt't'p till that nioniing, S: ^-•--^ ^rrifi '-_<0. tL=i:hf: I't'ivrt' • ful - ly Klt'c]). =F Three days passed away, and during the whole of that time, Louis, who was now alone in the wide, wide world, gave way to his grief. On the morning of the fourth day the funeral took place. The procession consisted of the Frenchman, his wife, the physician, and Louis. When the cemetery was reached, the mortal remains of the heroine of the Cross were laid in the deep, damp grave ; Louis looked vacantly down, he saw them lower the coffin, he heard dimly the solemn words, " I am the Resurrection anil the Life ; he that bciieveth in Me, thoui^h he were dead, yet shall he li\e;' and as the earth was cast in, and filled up the grave, he could not realize that it was his orphan sister, the only friend ho had in a cold, unfriendly world, that they were hiding from his sight. Nor was it 1 —not Marie, but only the frail seed of that bright, immortal form with which she shall yet come forth, on the resurrection morning. :**• m 21 XlfC'6 Close. il»T5 I'l I'll r.Tiiri'KKire. i^l:l:lllipilll^Elpp^ 1. A few iiion'iii'iiycri, a tVw iiinrc tvjir.-i, It won't 1«) ImiK', it won't 1ki 2. A lit-tl(! pain, a lit - tli' ,j<>\, And, less or iimn', it inattrrs o, A lit - tic ^Mtli( riii^ «if till" Ifivcil.Wlin-i'patirntii" iits wori' ah\.iys 4. I'>".t .li'- mis' 1(i\i', liis |)iTciniis liiM', Will lie my Htay, w ill In-, iny M. M. M. A ' M. , JL M. JL H»-i-# • \-O~-0 « 0-\'O"'-0 •— mm4M :t: •9- ' ' •> l()n^,', A f.w iiKDt'innntiis, afcwinoin yt'.irs, Will 1iih!iiiiv K >M(^, tlt'4 fMi-tlily not, S. mm nilii^'iintc > >■[ u ii li (■.•ut ii" , A in I tin a d r i,'>t, al. ! hnui f(ir« true, NiiiK' ti:ii- 1!> mill -(;!(• w it!) tl.t! s'l, A ver -y fiw. a vci'-y 8tay ; Ami i-ailiani't'^^li-aminj,' tri'in a. - li i. -i-# 0—0- t :l— t :j»=i»i s!ia!U:.'i) • IV Hlf''l» to )v C -i-s thrill i^li 'i: -5: w — -Vo, J. s' .11 - IV »i(l|i til rest, / / T (-'ill si ca'm • ly niH to tl slcfj) ri'st in in in tlio tlio till- val - lev. val - ley. val - ley tliri>it}xh, ]ia.>s - e, tliniiiKli tlie dark val - lev. The niorniiigwittcT the funeral Louis rcbumeil his journey. With a sad hrart and a bosoin ]v..avin^f uitli emotion, I.ouis sranncd the grave of his sister for, perhaps, tiie last time, and then left the village. For three hours he pursued his journey along a dusty road. Just as the rays of the setting sun wt.e gilding the valley with beauty, he reached Calais. W'i'.h little difficulty he fo;nd the residence of his father's friend, Monsieur de (^oi.x. The ln;t"r gen'dem.-m treated him ca urtcously, and rendered ail the assistance he could to enable the young hero of the Cross to leave his native land. hw edict had recently been issued to prevent fugitives from leaving France, consequently, numbers were concealed in various ways to avoid 22 detectiun. Louis was, therefore, advised to ittire himself in an Kn^Iish sailor's costume. Clad in tliis coarse yarb, Louis emi)arked. At 8,45 a.m. the \essel glided out of the harbor. He remained on deck for several hours walchinj; the hills of his muthcrland. Often the tc-ar-diops ylislened in liis eyes as he thought of his past life, and the cahimity that had recently befallen him. iWit his thoughts wandered at times to the Letter Land ; and as the ve-^sel glided noiselessly over the trackless dc'Cj), he longed to rea( li the haven of eternal repose, where he would meet his lo\ ed lost ones. Kor sixteen hours he remained at sea. When lur landed in London, he realized once more that he w.is " alone in the wide, wide world." He consulted the ])a(kage that gave the address of his relatives, and at oiu e repaired to an hotel, where he divested himself of his sailor attire, and once more assumed his gentlemanly dignity, ere he reached the homestead of his relations, who were aristocrats. 'Ihey were very kind, and offered to care for him as long as he would remain under their root. Iboine Zk3» Arranged by I,. M. tl£3~f 1. Iliiil! sw«*test, dearest tie that bin Is Our ^lowinp heiirts in nm-; 2. W'liut though tlie northern win ■ try l)l!ist Shall howl around my eot ! ;{. No lingering l(K)k, no parting sigh, Oui fu - t\ire meeting knows; g^g fciJz=?=i?: :t=*: :«: fm Hail! sa - cred hoiM', that tunes our minds To h.'ir - mo ■ ny di -vine. What tl'.ough lif'neath an ea>tern sun Be east our dis-tant lot! There friendshii)l)eiuns from ev' - ry e>(^, And lo\(f im - inor - tal grows. t-- -t4 m I>.S.— The hoiK', when days and years are jiast, W'e all shall meet in heaven. 23 run HITS. n.s. ais^pfiip^ii^iii :ff=j It i'< the hn|M , the lili,s,>- ml liu|)c, Wliicll .I"' - sUr,"Kliluc luts ^^Jmh ; / i Tlio rest of the or|)li;ins cireer is soon to'd. Wer-ks (aiiic and went, but altliouj^h everything aro'.nid him looked joynr.s and ;^a\, he re,'di/cd that it was not liis home. In fact, his thoughts wcic cpniicd on the home beyond. Hrre he knew he coalil find no r-st, ti.ci'-dnc. he loni'.ed to reach the land that \\a- more dear to l.iiii than this world. Six weeks ro! rd awav witli a,l t'aii- \ Irissitm'.cs. 1,( .lir. tlan secured an honoiab!(; posi..on, w..> re ho ' ii,.,i,,c;a t J t.) ;.ct:umu!a;e r.c',i. s. Fi\e long >ears roiled av,::;-, ;.;ui h:; h., ..d 1,1. ..self a wc.ul.y j.i luli man vf position. All his sjjcci.l.i.lons had ^;;(ct(dcd. lie b' canu; ac'|iiainted with an a( coir,;. lis'., ed \ c..;.g l.cly, w ; o, twelve months after brcinie Jiis wife. /\ rcslilcr.ie w.i.-, i)i.i:t to icMinlile his (.',.] French hiia.i, and a family of three cl.ildrin si.rruun led the iicaithst.,ne. After the rN])ivation < f li.'tccn \rars he r'^turned to take a last look at his motherl.ind. iie\i-ltcd Calal.s, l.r.t .Mor,si( ur (!(> C.-oi.xwas gone- to his long home. He \ isited the pi;;, e of his in'.ir; y. TJie old fami]\- residence w.is in nrn'-. He went to tl.c Title \ i ',; r where tlie remains of his sister wrve in' -n'd. 'I'lie old, din; y h;!ke;y was stii! there, Ijut hcs Iricnds were sleej)ing beneath the green sod of tlie vaile)-. Having bent bis steps toward the cemeter), he soon reach-d the spot where, tiftcen years before, ])is sister was bmied. As he bK jd b)- the gra\r. he lifted h.is e.iger eyes toward he.-.vcn and breathed a sliort pra\er, and began to think of the trials h.e iiad in li'e, and longed for the time to come when, with all his loved ones, he cfuild roam over the everlasting hills, and join the choir in the heavenly cathedral in singing the "Home, sweet home, of the Better Land." 24 Mrs. E. Mh.i.s. Zbc IRealms of tbe 3Ble6t OrfcurjUitn. 5f5^^E|E[iEE^E3£=^^W3E}E^EIEfe:pEI^SEz.^ :? — ^- -«- ^ ^ ■ — ^1 .- mi > — I — I?" -*-; ^-.v-: ;V„^. UEFRAIS. m ,:;e:: -•-1 ; '- o' i -Jr- V — /<- J: z:&-:iz:-_l: ^f^ /)..S'. m -P: -S2- 1 We sin;^ (>f the ririliiis of tic blc^it, TliaC c(niucry si) lirigiit ujkI .so fuir; And oft are its plorii^s c.inrV.ssf^'d, But whiit must it ho to bo tLi'rc! 2 "Wf sill!,' f>f i*"^ iiatliways of folil, its walls decked witli jewels so rare. Its \voii(l(-rs and ])leasures untold ; But w hat uiubt it be to be there ! 3 "We sinjif "f it.s fretnloin from s!ii, From sorrow , temptation and care. .l''!M»>i tri;d<, willioiit and \\)l!i!ii; ilut \\ hut must iu be to l)e then-! \ W:/ sini,' of its service of love, Of rolie.-i v liicli tl. • f^iMi'itied wearj Till' I ] lurch of tiio i'"'-tlioi'n alio\e ; Ijut Vvhat must it lie tu be there ! ~) Do thon, Lord, 'midst ]i]easure oi- woe, l'\ir heaven our s[iiriis (irejiaic; Tlieii so;,.n shall we joyfidly know And feel what it is to be there. 4^^