The thought of entering
eternity without a change of heart filled her with alarm. Every
looming cloud had a voice which spoke of the judgment to come; every
unpropitious event awakened painful forebodings. Her fears, which were
the genuine fruits of divine influence, were further aggravated by
the popular excitement of the times. France was threatening war
with England, and the prevailing apprehensions of the multitude
communicated themselves with double force to the heart of the
sorrowing child. "What," thought she, "if they should come now, and I
should be killed in my sins." Indeed her trouble increased to such
a degree that her aunt was grieved, imagining that her mother would
think she had been unkindly treated. She therefore resolved to take
her home. On the way a number of circumstances occurred which
to Mary's childish imagination were pregnant with evil, and
prognosticated nothing less than the day of general doom. The city was
in a state of unusual commotion, a report had gained ground that
the invader was at hand, some foolish person had caused the massive
portcullis of the city gate to be let down, several recruiting parties
were parading the streets, two of these she met, and the shrill blasts
of a few mounted trumpeters, together with a dense and portentous
cloud, which just at the moment spread itself upon the horizon,
completed her dismay. She reached home in tears. Her mother, whose
solicitude was awakened, inquired the cause. She replied, "Mother,
I can't tell you, but nothing in this world will make me happy.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32