How can I part with you, my beloved?"
"Mother," said he, as he took her hand in both his, and laid it on his
breast, "I want, while I am able, to tell you how I feel, and I want you
to know what you have done for me. I was a passionate, bad tempered boy,
and you know father--" He stopped. "Mother, I should have been a ruined
boy but for you. I see it all now plainly. You have saved me, mother.
You have saved my soul. You have been my guide and comfort in life. You
have taught me to meet even death and fear no evil, for you have shown
me my sin, and taught me to repent of it, and love and trust the
precious Saviour, who died that His blood might cleanse even my guilt. I
feel that I can lie in His arms, sure that He has forgiven my sin and
washed my sinful soul white in His blood. How often you have told me He
would do it if I asked Him, and I have asked Him constantly, and He will
do it, He will not cast me off. Mother, when you think of me, be
comforted, for you have led me to my Saviour, and I rejoice to go and be
with Him forever."
The next sun arose on the cold remains of what was so lately the active
and happy Charles Arnold, and there was bitter grief in that dwelling,
for very dear had the kind and loving brother been to them. The father
was stunned--thunderstruck. Little had he expected such a grief as this,
and he seemed utterly unable to endure it, or to believe it.
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