Life in London | Page 6

for him on earth.

As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had
been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek.
"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for
he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we
meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?"
"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George.
"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step
between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is gain.
Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is
Christ.'"
That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and
the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the
eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints."
Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded
love of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those
melancholy days between the death and the funeral of her husband,
"Cheer up, dear mother," he would say; "God is the father of the
fatherless, and the husband of the widow, and did not He say 'to die is
gain'?"
George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their
last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the
sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection."
Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing,
provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an
income only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but
scanty provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his
affairs were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it
would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable
style she had formerly done.
After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only

have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible
manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore
to leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington,
and let some of the rooms to boarders.
Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he
was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all
the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was
with such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily
and hourly felt, it was never seen.
One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived
so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery
where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that
hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to
have a stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking
about it as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they
could afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their
surprise to find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these
words:--
Sacred to the Memory of MR. GEORGE WESTON, Who departed this
life, Feb. 18th, 18--, aged 46 years.
* * * * *
"For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."
Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another
token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton.
The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with
that fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard,
very hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of
allowing George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear
the struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew
that vain regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the
Lord had taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully,

"Blessed be the name of the Lord."
George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for
or with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies,
and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a
situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one
at once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and
therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. But
when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn
off, he mentioned the matter to his friend