« VorigeDoorgaan »
The Hidden Treasure ; HOW IT WAS SOUGHT, AND WHERE IT WAS FOUND.
BY M. H.,
| an elderly lady and a young girl, who had come
to join them. Now, Aunt Mary, a question of Happiness! thou lovely name,
great importance has been started ; and as some Where's thy seat ?-oh, tell me where ! Learning, pleasure, wealth, and fame
differences of opinion have arisen on the subject, All cry out, It is not here.
you must be judge, and decide who is right and Not the wisdom of the wise
who is wrong. Is true happiness a hidden treaCan inform me where it lies ;
sure, to be found by seeking, as Wilmot declares; Not the grandeur of the great
or is it something that we all possess, as Osborne Can the bliss I seek create.'
says, and therefore need not to be sought for ONLY wish I had been one of the at all, seeing we have it already? We wait for
Knights of the Round Table, and your decision.'
one could find it, he would obtain the smile changed to a more serious look as she true happiness, they say; and surely that would answered : “Harry is right. True happiness is make up for long years perhaps spent in the a hidden treasure, only to be found in one place ; search. "Yes, it is a thousand pities I was not but surely to be found there by those who seek born a Sir Galahad ; I'd have been off to-morrow it aright. The Great Treasurer, who keeps the in the quest!'
key, himself hath said, “Seek, and ye shall The speaker was a lad of some sixteen years, I find." : with a bright, good-looking face, who sat in All understood Aunt Mary's words. It might the midst of a group of young people, under the be that, in their own hearts, all acknowledged shade of some old trees in the lawn of Amberley their truth; but, as yet, the paths which they Park, in Westmoreland. The summer sunshine had marked out (though they scarce acknowwas bathing with its golden light the whole ledged it) as leading to the treasure, lay far surrounding scene,-resting caressingly on the away from the only true one. brilliant-coloured flowers in the terraced garden, | Stewart was the first to break the silence and playing on the waters of the not far distant which had followed Aunt Mary's words. “I lakes; and, despite of the thick foliage, forcing mean to seek for happiness,' said he, in books, its way through the delicate green leaves of the and in wisdom ; and you know, auntie, your cluster of beech-trees where the youngsters sat. Book says, “Happy is the man that findeth wis
Shouts of laughter greeted the boy's speech. dom, and the man that getteth understanding." Harry Wilmot turned a Sir Galahad ; and in Does it not?' search of happiness too, as if he were dying of Yes, Robert; but it also says, “The fear of misery! Come, Harry, you must pull a longer | the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: a good face ere we believe that !'.
understanding have all they that do his comBut Harry was not to be put down by a laugh. mandments." And again,“ The fear of the All very fine to laugh, Osborne,' he said ; but, Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil after all, what is the great object in the lives of is understanding." all men, but just a seeking to find happiness? Well, Aunt Mary,' was the laughing reply -only all are not agreed as to what constitutes 'you've got the better of me there; and one it, and so seek it in different ways, though they thing I do believe-you have found the hidden may call it by different names. I have not made treasure; one can read it in your face. Cap up my mind yet how or where I am to seek it; they not, Cousin Lucy?' he said, appealing but find it I must, and shall. I believe it is a the young girl who sat beside his aunt. hidden treasure, to be got for the seeking. What Lucy Villiers looked up at the quiet, hp say you, Stewart?'
face of the lady (whom, although no relati The person thus addressed was a young man her, she had learned to call, as all the same of twenty-one years, with a clever, studious ex people did, Aunt Mary), and, as she lo in
sd, she pression of countenance, whose name was already felt that her cousin was right. She urer had attracting attention, by the honours he had won found true, lasting happiness; the The smiled at Cambridge.
opened to her, and given largely ad chalked ‘Suppose we refer the question to Aunt Mary,' assent, but said little ; for Lucy, tappiness he said, rising, as he spoke, to make way for out a way of her own for seekir
way which lay right through the world's crowds; and she began to wonder whether it were possible that this path might never, after all, lead
CHAPTER II. to the treasure.
• Tell me, ye woods, ye smiling plains, Holiday time was nearly over, and the party
Ye blessed birds around, of young people were to disperse on the morrow
In which of nature's wide domains -some to go back to school, others to return
Can bliss for man be found ? to their homes; but all would look back with
The birds wild carolled over head,
The breeze around me blew, pleasure to the pleasant days spent at Amberley
And nature's awful chorus saidPark wbilst visiting Aunt Mary.
No bliss for man she knew.' Once that house had echoed back the merry laugh and bounding steps of two children, who | The party at Amberley Park was broken up; spoke of Mrs. Wilmot, not as Aunt Mary, but as only Lucy Villiers and Alfred Osborne remained,
darling mamma.' Ten years ago a dark cloud and they were to leave the next day. The last had fallen on Amberley Park; the childish voices day at any place where one has spent some happy and the bounding steps were stilled; the kind weeks is always a sad one, more especially if Shepherd had gathered the lambs into the you are, as Lucy was, left almost the last of the heavenly fold ; and the mother, widowed and visitors. childless, unable to catch one gleam of earthly 1. Certain it is, as Lucy sat alone that night in
fort in the cloud, lifted up her eyes, and saw, her own room, she felt more depressed than she as she never had seen before, Jesus only. could have believed it possible to have done in
And now, though her thoughts often turn to the prospect of parting with one whom she had the loved ones before the throne,-though every | known for so short a time as she had known place where they played, every spot they loved, Aunt Mary; for this was her first visit at Amis sacred to their memory, Mrs. Wilmot's heart berley Park, and the first time she had seen and house are ever open to the young; her words
en to the young: her words Mrs. Wilmot. of love and help are ever ready for them all: Lucy Villiers was an orphan. Her father had and the peace which passeth understanding' | died while she was still an infant, and the refills her heart. The hidden treasure was revealed membrance she retained of her mother was misty to her where she least expected to find it,-in | and dream-like: soft grey eyes, with the soul the midst of the great and terrible wilderness, looking out of them, full of tenderness and love; a land of the shadow of death.' There it was gentle words, and loving caresses,—and that that the Great Treasurer had revealed himself, and given to her abundantly of the pure gold. Yet, Lucy, there was more than that left to
The history of Aunt Mary's life was known, you of your now angel mother. A mother's at least in part, by the young people who heard prayers are floating round you, - prayers of her words about the bidden treasure; and Harry faith, of trust, of hope, offered in that name Wilmot, as he pondered the subject, was assured which is above every name, and in unfailing that the treasure Aunt Mary had found must be trust in the truth of Him who hath said, “Whatthe real one,-the true Sangreal,-since it could soever ye shall ask the Father in my name, I give that calm, bappy spirit to one who had will do it.' Into the holiest, by the blood of suffered as she had; and over and over he in- | Jesus, she had access even on earth ; and there wardly repeated the words, Seek, and ye shall prayers were offered for her only child, which find.' But how? was a question he left un shall one day receive their full answer. answered; though his imagination pictured, far Lucy's thoughts were full of the future before off in the misty distance, a vision of perhaps her. Her school-days were over; her home for finding it wbilst alleviating the sufferings of his the future was to be with her Uncle and Aunt fellow-creatures,- for Harry had already begun Osborne in London ; and by them she was to be his course as a doctor; and so, with many deep- introduced into the gay world of fashion, in the stirring thoughts and purposes in his mind, he midst of which they dwelt; and there she hoped bade adieu to Aunt Mary and the others, to find the hidden treasure of true happiness. laughing merrily as Osborne, dubbing him Sir Visions of brightly lighted rooms, of rustling Galahad, bid him write and tell him as soon as silks and satins, of light gossamer - like lace ae found the Sangreal.
dresses, of flowers and gems, music and dancing, As it will be some time ere we see him again, were before her eyes; and, pent up as she had we may bid him God-speed; may pray that the hitherto been in the schoolroom, the very proheavenly Guide—who, though unseen, is even spect of mingling in such scenes appeared denow by his side-may lead him on, step by step, lightful, and she longed for the moment to arrive in the search, making crooked places straight that she might drink the cup of pleasure. before him, and darkness light, till the appointed Such were the feelings with which Lucy came moment come, when He will remove the veil / to Amberley Park to visit her mother's friend, which the great enemy of souls has woven over Mrs. Wilmot; but now, as she sits thinking over every human eye, to prevent them seeing the the events of her visit, on the eve of her deonly spot where the treasure lies; and, by the parture, she wonders how it is that the future glorious light of the Sun of Righteousness, will before her does not look so dazzling as it did. show him the good he seeks,-hidden no longer, Will she find the happiness she expects ? she open to him, and to whomsoever will accept of asks herself. And what has led her to doubt it it as a free, undeserved gift.
she cannot tell. Surely nothing that has been
said to her. Aunt Mary has not spoken on the subject; the young people have all envied her
CHAPTER III. the life before her. What can it be? Her cousin
"Oli, who could bear life's stormy doom, Alfred boasts of the number of parties and fêtes
Did not thy wing of love his beautiful sister Leila attended last season,
Come brightly wasting through the gloom, and of the number she is to give herself next
One peace branch from above! season, as she is Leila Osborne no longer, but Then sorrow touched by Thee grows bright, the Hon. Mrs. Dudley; and tells how delighted
With more than rapture's ray;
As darkness shows us worlds of light she is that she can chaperone her cousin, though
We never saw by day.' only two years older than she.
But Lucy, as she thinks of these things to AND you really think, Alfred, that Harry night, sighs, scarce knowing why; and rising, | Wilmot is determined to find the hidden treathrows open the window to let in the balmy air, sure? Well I do wish, if he does, he'll let me and gazes out at the beautiful scene-beautiful | into the secret; for I am beginning to believe indeed in the soft moonlight. Silver-tipped are that happiness is all a myth, a mere word, found the hills and trees; whilst, mirror-like, the quiet only in a dictionary. I doubt if any one is lakes reflect the whole, and smile under the happy, even those who are well, and able to go gentle toying of the moonbeams. No wonder where they like, see what they like, and do what that Lucy stood enraptured ; never before had they like; not like me, obliged to lie here all nature seemed to her so lovely. There was rest day, hardly ever able to move or do one thing I there, even such rest as she fancied lay in Aunt | wish to do. Certainly, happiness is a thing unMary's eyes, and in those soft grey ones seen so known in my experience, and yet, could it be long ago, so dimly remembered.
got, it is a boon worth the finding. There now, Yes, Lucy thought that she had learnt the | I have horrified Cousin Lucy by my speech. secret of Aunt Mary's peaceful spirit, the key Never mind, dear, Alfred can tell you I don't to her hidden treasure. Amidst the tranquil always speak like that; only my head aches tobeauties and wonders of nature she had sought night, and it is weary weary work, always to and found it; and the more she gazed and be ill, and know you will never be better-at thought, the more fully she became convinced least never like other people. she had guessed aright. As she lay down to the speaker was a young girl of about fourrest, she wished she could have spent her life in teen, the Osbornes' youngest child. An invalid this quiet abode, in the midst of this glorious almost from her birth (a fall, whilst still an scenery, that in the midst of nature she might | infant, having injured the spine, and laid the find the treasure she coveted.
seeds of permanent though not fatal disease). Nay, Lucy, nay; not there the blessing you All that care, nursing, and the best medical skill seek. Nature can give much,-pure joys, simple, could do, had been done, and yet the hopes were soul-elevating pleasures ; it can rouse feelings small that Netty Osborne would ever rise much akin to the sublime; but it cannot give true from the couch. For long the child was as conhappiness, cannot impart real peace. Only One tented as the circumstances would admit of, and can do that, and He is hidden from your eyes, the loving attentions lavished on her went far to though He is ever present with you. Though soften her lot. But of late it was different: the He has loved you with an everlasting love; precocious mind was early developing; the feelthough He has died to redeem you from the god ings of the child were changing to those of the of this world ; if He is named to you now, you woman; she was waking up to the bitterness of would exclaim, “I see no beauty in Him.' But her lot; cut off from the enjoyments of life, inyet a while, and, your eyes opened, his glories capacitated from taking her part in the busy will flash on your sight, and the language of world. The cup was a bitter one to drink, and your heart and lips will be, 'He is chief among can we wonder if she turned away from it, and ten thousand-altogether lovely.'
rebelled, loudly rebelled, against the draught? Even as she lay asleep, prayers were ascending Poor Netty! were there none to tell you of for her. Aunt Mary's heart yearned over the Him who alone could sweeten the bitter cup; of orphan girl : too well she knew the temptations | Him who, for your sake, drank to the dregs a which lay before her. Fain would the childless still more bitter draught, and murmured not, widow have kept the child of her dead friend to only saying, "Father, not my will, but thine be live with herself, but it might not be. Her na be done?' Were there none to speak to you of tural home was with her mother's brother, Mr | Him, whose very name is as “ointment poured Osborne, and all that Aunt Mary could do for her forth;' none to lead you to Him, who is as willwas to pray. All! but was not that enough; | ing as He is able to cure,—the Great Physician, better than anything else she could do ? Could the kind, loving, sympathizing elder brother, she not thus draw down on the head of the Jesus? motherless girl richer blessings, surer protection, No, not one. Father, mother, brother, sister, than she or any one on earth could bestow ? gave all they could give, in the shape of fond Ye who love the Lord, and delight yourself in love, unwearied attentions, kind sympathy-but Him, pray on ; pray for the souls of those around no more. The treasure was indeed a hidden one you, Lord, let them live before Thee;' and to her ; months of vanity and wearisome nights doubt not, though the answer tarry, it will were appointed to her, and she knew not that surely come; and He, true to his promise, will | He who appointed them did so in love. She give thee the desire of thine heart.
thought of Him (if at all) only in the light of
an enemy, and saw not that the very hand that not even Leila, bride though she was, and rich chastened bore the marks of wounds received for in all the world calls good. ber.
Long after the others had retired to rest, Lucy Villiers had scarcely ever seen her Netty lay and thought of the hidden treasure, Cousin Netty for years, and now as she sat and wondered if the Great Treasurer, of whom beside her on the day after her arrival in her Aunt Mary had spoken, would ever open to her, uncle's London home, her whole heart was filled and give forth the hidden store. Oh, if He only with compassion for the young girl. She marked would-if any would tell her where she could the restless, eager, longing eyes, the weary find Him! She would beg and pray Him to do unsatisfied expression, and noticed the bitter so, and surely he would not refuse a poor suffertone of irony in which she spoke,—too surely ing child like her. indicative of a heart ill at ease; and Lucy's Refuse !-ah, no! He is waiting to be grakind heart longed to comfort the sufferer, and cious; longing to pour the balm of Gilead into the speak words of peace to her.
| weary heart; longing to show thee himself, to reBut how could she speak what she knew not; veal his glory to thee. Even now, though thou how lead one to the hidden treasure, when she hearest Him not, he is saying, “Come unto me, berself knew not the way? As she sat there, ye weary and heavy-laden one, and I will give joining Alfred in repeating many of the jokes you rest.' which bad amused them at Amberley Park, in But as yet Netty heard not that voice, and as order to cheer up Netty, she felt that they fell she lay she began to mark out a path for herself, pointless on the girl's ears, and she longed to see by which she hoped to attain the treasure. She Aunt Mary sitting by that couch, sure that she was wonderfully attracted to Lucy Villiers; she would find a way to soothe and cheer. Not till felt she could love her; her soft eyes seemed to Alfred told the story of Harry Wilmot setting read her thoughts, and feel for her, and her off to search for the Sangreal, did his sister's gentle voice sounded as sweet music in her ears. interest seem roused; then she spoke as we have Ere Netty fell asleep, she had determined to told.
search for the treasure in the path of friendship: Yes; happiness was something worth seeking, surely in the interchange of thought and affecif one only knew the right way. It was all very tion with a kindred soul, she would find the good well in Alfred to say that happiness was a thing she panted for! She too had joined the seekers, which every one possessed, and therefore did not and her path also would end in vexation of require to be sought for ; but she knew she had spirit.' it not, nor many others that she could name;
(To be continued.)
Rendings for the Young.
THE FAITHFUL DOG.
| here, that when a preacher asks admission, lie is
| never refused. Come in.' HE Silesian vale is in the midst of The great iron gate opened slowly, and the
great high mountains in Germany. | stranger entered. By-and-by be reached the There is in the middle of it a village, door of the castle, and was admitted into the where very plain peasants live. Not ! parlour. He was introduced to the nobleman's
far from the village stands a very | wife, who was indeed a good woman, and had a old castle, which was occupied by a nobleman very kind heart. and his family. Strangers, in travelling through She showed him the pictures, and the beautiful the country, often went to see the castle, for it | ivory articles, and the old books, and many other was very remarkable in many respects. There interesting things. She led him through all the were beautiful paintings in the parlours, curious clief parts of the castle, and finally conducted old books in the library, and articles of carved him up the high flights of stairs to the top of ivory that were very wonderful.
| the tower. Her little boy accompanied her, and One day a man went to the castle gate and she held him by the hand. By-and-by they asked admission. He seemed to be old, and was reached the highest point of the tower, and the clad in a long cloth robe, which made him look good lady said to the stranger, · Look out now exactly like a priest. A servant came to the upon this beautiful Silesian valley ; did you ever gate, and the stranger said to him: “I am a see it surpassed ?' plain country priest, and have come from a dis- No sooner bad she said these words, than the tance to see this castle. I have heard a great stranger threw off his monk's hood and his long deal about it, and the wonderful things that are robe, and seized the little boy of the good lady in it. May I be allowed to enter it? Tell the in his arms, and held him over the parapet of gentleman who lives here that I am a poor man, the tower. and that I will be grateful if I may be allowed Now,' said he, 'give me your jewels, or I to go through it.' The servant replied: My will drop your child ! master is not at home, but his wife is at home, Horrified at such conduct, the good lady and she is a very kind lady. I am sure you screamed aloud; but, of course, nobody could can gain admission; in fact, it is a standing rule hear her at that distance.
She then said to the cruel man, “I now sec | devoted to him as he had been to his first master. who you are; you are Kuno, the great robber. One day Lewis was riding on one of the roads Give me my dear child, and you shall have all that wind around the neighbouring mountains, the jewels in the house.'
and the horse became frightened at a queer• Do you promise me faithfully ?' said he. looking rock that stood near the road. He
• I will. I will give you everything you want, sprang suddenly, and Lewis was so taken by if you will save my child,' she answered.
surprise that he fell off, and his foot caught in But will you make no alarm, so that I may the stirrup, and he was dragged for some disget away from here in safety?'
tance on the ground. Flink made a spring at Give me my child,' said she, and you shall the reins that were hanging loose from the horse's go from here in safety.'
neck. He got one of them in his little mouth, Wicked Kuno took the child down, and gave and held it firmly. The horse seemed to be him to his mother. In one half-hour from that gentle enough on ordinary occasions; but I fear time he had taken his departure through the big that poor Lewis would have lost his life, if it gate, with the splendid jewels in his possession. had not been for little Flink; for that dog held
Many weeks passed on, and the nobleman, the horse by the rein for some time, until a who had been several months in Paris, returned. | peasant, who had come from the other side of The whole event was told to him ; and he took the mountain, saw the strange scene. The rehis little boy, whose name was Lewis, in his markable sagacity of the dog astonished him. arms, and said, “Thank God! How thankful I Lewis's foot was released; and, after recovering am that his life is spared! He is worth more to his strength, he was placed upon his horse, and me than all our jewels.'
returned home. He told his parents all that had I have said that the nobleman's wife was a bappened, and that Flink had been the instrukind lady. Now I will prove it.
ment of his safety. Gratitude filled the hearts She was in the habit of taking a long ride of Lewis's parents, and thanks were offered that every Thursday, with provisions for the poor in his life had been preserved. her carriage. One day she was told by a humble The next time that the nobleman went to peasant woman, whom she had assisted many Breslau, he ordered a little silver collar to be times for several years, that in the next cottage made for little Flink. Now, I will tell you what a poor man lay, who had fallen in one of the inscription was put upon it. It may seem to you mountain passes, and had so injured himself that a very long one; but the words were small, so he could not live much longer. I have a few that they could be engraved very easily around loaves of bread left,' said she, and I will go in the collar. You will find it in the Bible ; and and see him, and perhaps I can help him.' without telling you where it is, I hope you will
She was admitted into the dying man's little find the place if I give you the words room. On seeing the strange lady enter, he ‘Not rendering evil for evil, or railing for lifted his weary eyes toward her, and gave a railing, but contrariwise, blessing; knowing that loud groan.
| ye are thereunto called, that you should inherit It was Kuno, who had taken her jewels! a blessing.'
• I know you,' said she, but I will not harm The beautiful bright silver collar was brought you. I forgive you all.'
home, and Lewis read the strange inscription. He replied : I am a dying man. Your jewels | He then asked his mother why that verse had have been like coals of fire in my heart ever since been put upon Flink's collar. She then told I took them. They now lie in that bag in the him, for the first time, all about Kuno's threatcorner of the room. Good lady, will you pray ening to throw him from the castle tower, and with me?'
that the only way his life was spared was by She did pray with him, and stayed with him giving away her jewels. several hours. She noticed a beautiful little Mother,' said Lewis, "I hope Kuno was a white dog, which sat on the foot of the bed, and good man when he died. But your kindness to looked at Kuno all the time. It was Kuno's dog, him on his deathbed will be worth more to me named Flink; and he seemed as if he really than all the property I may ever possess. I thought his master was going to die. He was shall be thankful as long as I live for my good faithful to the last.
mother.' Kuno said : There are the jewels, which you must take home with you; and here, on this bed, is my little jewel, Flink. He has been
BE YE KIND ONE TO ANOTHER. faithful to me in all my crimes, and he will be faithful to you in all your good deeds.
We were playing at bricks one afternoon in our The kind lady left the house, but not until | old nursery. We had begun to build a castle, Kuno died. She provided for his burial. He and were very anxious to see it finished. So we was laid away in the village graveyard. She took all the bricks to build it with, each a heap took Flink home with her; and though it was for herself, and left none for the baby to play some time before he became attached to the with. She did not cry, but came to me and family, yet he did become fond of Lewis, and all asked, in her sweet childish accent, for one little the rest of the occupants of the castle.
brick. Several years now passed by, and Lewis grew It was refused. The bright face clouded, and large enough to ride on horseback. Little Flink the blue eyes filled with tears. Generally the followed him wherever he went. He was as sight of my dear little sister's distress would have