EAGERNESS TO READ THE BIBLE.
In one of the schools at Newbern, there was a pious old woman of eighty years. She had been very constant in her attendance, and earnest in her efforts, but could not readily overcome the difficulties. Her eyes were dim with age; it was with great difficulty she saw the letters in the large Testament, and still greater that she remembered them. After two or three months she could call all the letters, and she was delighted. Their combinations and their sounds, syllables, words, were mysteries too great for her to master. The patience of her excellent teacher was well-nigh exhausted one evening, when she said to her: “Aunty, I do not think you can ever learn to read.” “Mity hard, missus; my poor ole eyes dark.” “Well, aunty, I reckon you had better give it up.” “Pears like I mus’, missus. O honey, wants to read heap!” “Well, I’m sorry, aunty, it is so; but you need not come again.” After three or four evenings, the old woman appeared again in school. When the teacher came to her, she said, “Well, aunty—here again, are you?” “Yes, honey, please, I mus’ read—mus’ hear Massa Jesus speak to me from his word hisself; ’pears like I shall die. I mus’ read de word ob de Lord, I mus’;” and tears ran down her cheeks like rain. The teacher could not resist the appeal; so she opened the Testament at the fourteenth chapter of John, and read to her with great deliberation and care three verses, and then left her to attend to others. Aunty bent over the book, and fixed her attention on the second and third verses. The letters she knew; the words were familiar to her, but to pick them out then, was to hear “Massa Jesus speak to her.” After a while she got the word “prepare” so she could put it to “I go;” then the rest followed by inspiration; and after an hour of the most intense effort she had ever made, she could read the two. When the teacher came to her again, she said, “Missus, ’spees can read ’em now.” She began, and with an intelligent deliberation read, “I go to prepare a place for you,” &c., to the end of the third. The teacher, surprised and pleased, asked her to read them again. Aunty did, with great clearness and propriety. “Yes,” said the teacher, “you have read the words of our blessed Lord yourself.” Aunty’s eyes filled with tears; her face beaming with delight, she broke out, “Yes, bress de Lord! he speak to me—to me, poor ole slave; he tell me go prepa’ a place for me; he go come again take me, poor brak woman; prepa’ place for me! Oh! bless Massa Jesus!” Against how many of us, will this poor old woman, kept in ignorance by slavery, rise up in judgment? All pains are taken from our very childhood, to teach us to read, and God’s word lies before us, daily neglected. As the Saviour said he had not found so great faith in Israel as in a certain Gentile woman, so we may say we have not found so great love for the word of God among all the highly-favored of the land.