Hindoo Girl


THE HINDOO GIRL.


A LITTLE Hindoo girl was one summer's' 

afternoon playing before her father's bungalow,

when she was carried off, taken to Calcutta, and

sold as a slave. She was a sweet and beautiful

girl, and the lady who bought her, soon began to

love her very much, and she thought she would

not make her a slave. She had no children of

her own, and she liked to have a little girl to

play with her and amuse her. She loved her

more and more, and as she grew older, she made

her, her companion.  When the little girl was 

stolen from her father, she was too young to 

have learned his religion.

The lady who bought her was a Mahomet an, and

she brought up the little girl as a Mahomet an

too. Thus she lived till she was sixteen years

old, and then all at once it came into her mind,

she knew not how or why, that she was a sinner

and needed salvation. She was in great distress

of mind, and went to her kind mistress for

 comfort, but she could not tell her of a Saviour;

 all the lady could do was to try to amuse her, 

and make her forget her trouble; she hired rope-

dancers, jugglers and serpent-charmers, and 

tried all the sports of which the natives of India

 are fond, to give her pleasure. These were of no

 use, and the girl remained as miserable as ever.

 Her mistress, deeply grieved at the distress of 

one whom she loved dearly, next sent for a 

Mahomet an priest.

He had never felt the want of a Saviour, and he

could not understand the girl's distress. 

However, he took her under his care and did his

 best.

He taught her a long string of prayers in Arabic,

a language which she did not understand. She

learned the long hard words, which had no

 meaning to her, and she repeated them five

 times a day, and each time she repeated them

 she turned towards Mecca the birthplace of 

Mahomet, and bowed her face to the ground.

Did the poor girl find comfort in these dark

words and idle ceremonies? No; she felt there

was no forgiveness, no salvation in these. When

she had tried these prayers for three long years,

the thought struck her that perhaps all her 

sorrow of mind was a punishment for having left

 the faith of her fathers, and becoming a 

Mahomet an.

She set out directly in search of a Brahmin or

Hindoo priest, and entreated him to receive her

back into the Hindoo Church. How do you think

the Brahmin answered her? He cursed her in

the name of his god. She told him how unhappy

she was, and how long she had suffered, and

begged him to pity her, but he would not listen.

She offered him a large sum of money, and then

he was ready to do anything; so she put herself 

under his direction, and went again and again. 

He told her to make an offering of flowers and 

fruit, morning and evening, to a certain goddess,

 who was some way off, and once a-week to offer

 a kid of the goats, as a bloody sacrifice.

In India the people have a language of flowers;

each flower means something; and when you

go into a temple, and see the flowers which have

been laid on the altar, you may often tell what

petitions have been offered. The flowers she

brought as her offering signified a bleeding heart

O, there was One who would not have refused

such an offering! He only could have healed her

broken heart, but she knew Him not. For a long

long time did she carry flowers, morning and

evening, and once a-week offer a kid of the goats

and sprinkled the blood on herself and on the

 altar but she found that "the blood of goats 

could not take away her sins," and very often

 she cried out in her deep distress, "O, I shall 

die, and what shall I do if I die without obtaining

 salvation!

At last she became ill through the distress of her

mind, and her mistress, with deep sorrow 

watched her beloved companion sinking into an

 early grave. But one day as she sat alone in the

 room, thinking, and longing, and weeping, as her 

custom was, a beggar came to the door and

 asked alms. Her heart was so full, that I 

suppose she spoke of what she wanted to all

 whom she met, in the hope that some might 

guide her. She began talking to the beggar, and

 used a word which means salvation. The man 

started and said, "I think I have heard that word

 before." " Where, O where have you heard it,"

 she eagerly asked.

"Tell me where I can find that which I want,

and for which I am dying; I shall soon die, and

O, what shall I do if I die without obtaining 

salvation?”

The man told her the name of a charitable

institution, where once a week two thousand

poor natives were supplied with rice, and before

the rice was given some Christian teacher

used to speak to them. "I have heard it there,"

he said, "and they tell of one Jesus Christ, who

can give salvation." "O, where is he? Take

me to him." The man cared nothing about this'

salvation himself. He thought she was mad, and

he was going away, but she would not suffer him

to depart till he had given her an answer; she

dreaded lest she should miss that prize which

 now seemed almost within her reach. "Well," he

said, "I can tell you of a man who will lead you

to Jesus," and he directed her to that part of the

town where Narraput Christian lived. Who was

Narraput Christian? He was once a rich and

proud Brahmin, but he had given up all his riches

and honors to become a humble disciple of

 Jesus, and he was now an assistant missionary

 and preached to his countrymen. This was the 

man of whom the beggar spoke. The Hindoo girl

gave the beggar a trifle, and that very evening

 she set out in search of Narraput Christian, the

 man who would lead her to Jesus. She went 

from house to house, and inquired of every one

 she met, " where Narraput Christian, the man

 who would lead her to Jesus," lived, but no one

 would tell her. They all knew, but they were 

worshipers of idols, and did not choose to tell 

her. It grew late and dark, and she began to be

 afraid of being seen out at that hour. Her heart

 was nearly broken, for she thought she must 

return as she came without obtaining salvation.

 She  was just turning to go home, when she saw

 a  man walking along the road; she thought she 

would  try once more, so she asked him the 

same question,  "where Narraput Christian lived,

 the man who would lead her to Jesus." To her 

great joy he pointed her to the house, and when 

she reached it, she met Narraput himself coming

 out at the door. She fell at his feet in tears, and

 wringingher hands in anguish, she asked, "Are 

you Narraput Christian, the man who can lead 

me to Jesus?

O, take me to Him, I shall die, and what

shall I do if I die without obtaining salvation."

Narraput did not receive her as the Hindoo priest

had done. He raised her kindly from the ground,

and led her into the house, where his family

were met at their evening meal. "My dear

young friend," said he, "sit down and tell me all."

She told him her history, and as soon as she had

done, she rose and said, "Now, Sir, take me to

Jesus, you know where he is; O, take me to

 Him."

Ah, if Jesus had been on earth, how willingly

would he have received the poor wanderer. She

thought he was on earth, and that she might go

to him at once; but Narraput knew that though

He was not here, He was just as able to pity

and welcome her from His mercy-throne in

 Heaven,

so he only said, "Let us pray." All knelt

down, and as he prayed, the poor Hindoo felt

 that she had found that which she had so long 

wanted.





Selected.



Heaven


WITH what delightful imaginations have I

 pictured heaven to my mind. Often have I 

meditated upon the beauty, the glory, and the

 unfading joys of that happy place. The thought 

is glorious that all who enter there will be freed

 from sin and death. Jesus will be there, his 

angels  will be there, and all of the dear saints

 who have struggled hard against the 

allurements of a  flattering world, who have 

borne up under the many trials and conflicts of

 the way, and fought valiantly for the truth, will

 be there also, with crowns of dazzling 

brightness. There will bloom flowers that will 

never fade. There also shall we behold life's 

waters, clear as crystal, and its verdant  trees 

that gently waves over them. Nothing will ever 

be permitted to enter there to disturb the quiet

 repose of those who dwell in that peaceful 

clime.

My heart swells with rapture when I think of

that bright, glorious place. Who would not be

willing to give ALL here to obtain everlasting life

in heaven? What is this world, compared to

the blissful happiness of the world to come?

Though we may have every luxury that can be

afforded here, and participate in all the 

pleasures and gayeties of this life, yet the heart

 is left  desolate; we can find peace only in 

Jesus. Without the Christian's hope, true joy 

cannot be obtained.

How strange that any who have once started for

the better land should now turn back, just as the

full anticipations of their hope are about to be 

realized, to this vain world. Has not Jesus done

enough to induce his children to follow him?

Has he not promised them a rich reward in his

everlasting kingdom? Has he not promised to

 to lead them unto living fountains of waters,

and bring them off victorious at last? Is

not this enough, who could ask for more? When

Jesus has been so kind, suffered so much and

 even died to save us. Shall we grieve him by 

forsaking the narrow path, giving ourselves up 

to worldly pleasure, and rush heedlessly on to 

destruction?

The time cannot be far distant when we shall

see our heavenly Redeemer coming to take us

home. Will not all want to meet his smile of

 approbation then? Will they not want to be in 

perfect readiness  to appear with him in glory?

My dear friends, do you not wish to enter 

heaven?

 If so, you must yield up the world. Christ

has said, if we love the world the love of the

 Father is not in us. If you would enter the pearly

gates of that golden city you must tread the 

rough and thorny path. Jesus has trod the way

 before us, and all he requires of us is to follow

 him.

Then let us cheerfully bear the cross for his

 sake, let us endure persecution for a little

 season. It will be but a little while we shall 

remain in this dark world. A brighter day is soon

 coming. Jesus will not tarry long. He hears the

 cry of his people for redemption, and will soon 

give to his servants their glorious reward. He is 

preparing for them brighter realms of joy and 

peace, a home in glory. Seek then to be among

 the ransomed.

Let nothing detain you from your duty. Never

doubt the word of God: trust in him, and under

the shadow of his wings will he hide you from

the coming storm. Dwell not too much upon the

trials of the way, but keep your eye fixed on the

bright and happy future, when the last conflict

with sin will be fought, and the perplexing cares

and sorrows of this life will have an end. Endure

a little longer, the glories of heaven are just

 before you. Jesus bids you come do not refuse.





S. A. H.

New Ipswich, N. H., June, 1855.