V.
APRIL 6.
I have taken it at last.I would not take one be fore, because I knew I could not teach little children how to love God, unless I loved Him myself.My class is perfectly delightful.There are twelve dear little things in it, of all ages between eight and nine.Eleven are girls, and the one boy makes me more trouble than all of them put together.When I get them all about me, and their sweet innocent faces look up into mine, I am so happy that I can hardly help stopping every now and then to kiss them.They ask the very strangest questions I mean to spend a great deal of time in preparing the lesson, and in hunting up stories to illustrate it.Oh, I am so glad I was ever born into this beautiful world, where there will always be dear little children to love!
APRIL 13.-Sunday has come again, and with it my darling little class!
Dr.Cabot has preached delightfully all day, and I feel that I begin to understand his preaching better, and that it must do me good.Ilong, I truly long to please God; I long to feel as the best Christians feel, and to live as they live.
APRIL 20.-Now that I have these twelve little ones to instruct, I am more than ever in earnest about setting them a good example through the week.It is true they do not, most of them, know how I spend my time, nor how I act.But I know, and whenever I am conscious of not practicing what I preach, I am bitterly ashamed and grieved.How much work, badly done, I am now having to undo.If I had begun in earnest to serve God when I was as young as these children are, how many wrong habits I should have avoided; habits that entangle me now, as in so many nets.I am trying to take each of these little gentle girls by the hand and to lead her to Christ.Poor Johnny Ross is not so docile as they are, and tries my patience to the last degree.
APRIL 27.-This morning I had my little flock about me, and talked to them out of the very bottom of my heart about Jesus.They left their seats and got close to me in a circle, leaning on my lap and drinking in every word.All of a sudden I was aware, as by a magnetic influence, that a great lumbering man in the next seat was looking at me out of two of the blackest eyes I ever saw, and evidently listening to what I was saying.I was disconcerted at first, then angry.What impertinence.What rudeness! I am sure he must have seen my displeasure in my face, for he got up what I suppose he meant for a blush, that is he turned several shades darker than he was before, giving one the idea that he is full of black rather than red blood.Ishould not have remembered it, however-by it-I mean his impertinence--if he had not shortly after made a really excellent address to the children.Perhaps it was a little above their comprehension, but it showed a good deal of thought and earnestness.
I meant to ask who he was, but forgot it.
This has been a delightful Sunday.I have really feasted on.Dr.
Cabot's preaching.But I am satisfied that there is something in religion I do not yet comprehend.I do wish I positively knew that God had forgiven and accepted me.
MAY 6.-Last evening Clara Ray had a little party and I was there.She has a great knack at getting the right sort of people together, and of making them enjoy themselves.
I sang several songs, and so did Clara, but they all said my voice was finer and in better training than hers.It is delightful to be with cultivated, agreeable people.I could have stayed all night, but mother sent for me before any one else had thought of going.
MAY 7.-I have been on a charming excursion to-day with Clara Ray and all her set.I was rather tired, but had an invitation to a concert this evening which I could not resist.
JULY 21.-So much has been going on that I have not had time to write.
There is no end to the picnics, drives, parties, etc., this summer.Iam afraid I am not getting on at all.My prayers are dull and short, and full of wandering thoughts.I am brimful of vivacity and good humor in company, and as soon as I get home am stupid and peevish.Isuppose this will always be so, as it always has been and I declare Iwould rather be so than such a vapid, flat creature as Mary Jones, or such a dull, heavy one as big Lucy Merrill.
JULY 24.-Clara Ray says the girls think me reckless and imprudent in speech.I've a good mind not to go with her set any more.I am afraid I have been a good deal dazzled by the attentions I have received of late; and now comes this blow at my vanity.
On the whole, I feel greatly out of sorts this evening.
JULY 28.-People talk about happiness to be found in a Christian life.
I wonder why I do not find more! On Sundays I am pretty good, and always seem to start afresh; but on week-days I am drawn along with those about me.All my pleasures are innocent ones; there is surely no harm in going to concerts, driving out, singing, and making little visits! But these things distract me; they absorb me; they make religious duties irksome.I almost wish I could shut myself up in a cell, and so get out of the reach of temptation.
The truth is, the journey heavenward is all up hill I have to force myself to keep on.The wonder is that anybody gets there with so much to oppose--- so little to help one!
JULY 29.-It is high time to stop and think.I have been like one running a race, and am stopping to take breath.I do not like the way in which things have been going on of late.I feel restless and ill at ease.I see that if I would be happy in God, I must give Him all.
And there is a wicked reluctance to do that.I want Him-but I want to have my own way, too.I want to walk humbly and softly before Him, and I want to go where I shall be admired and applauded.To whom shall I yield? To God? Or to myself?
JULY 30.-I met Dr.Cabot to-day, and could not, help asking the question:
"Is it right for me to sing and play in company when all I do it for is to be admired?""Are you sure it is all you do it for?" he returned.
