THE Angel of Toil. Scarcely had the young man's eyes closed
in sleep when a beautiful light illuminated the apartment ;
he saw, to his inexpressible wonder and delight, the figure of an
angelic being by his side, radiant with indescribable beauty, and
regarding him with eyes of the tenderest commiseration and the
most divine affection. In her hand she bore a small crystal flask,
filled with the ethereal essence of some omnipotent nepenthe, from
which she poured one many-colored, sparkling drop upon the
palid lips of the sleeping youth. The Spirit touched the hand
of the young man, and, in the thrill of ineffable delight he seemed
to awaken from his slumber, and to pass with his angelic guide
out of the apartment. They were by the shore of the sea, and
in an instant on board ship. But it was not on the surrounding sea
that the youth and angel looked—it was on the still more wonderful
spectacle that the crowded deck of the vessel presented. There
were huddled together some two or three hundred human beings.
'•Nothing can be more deplorable," said the Angel, "than this
spectacle ; and nothing in reality can be more wretched than the
condition of these men." The Angel breathed on the eyes of the
young man, he started with a mingled feeling of surprise and
pleasure. The crowd now seemed to be doubled or trebled in
number; the new-comers were all either women or children.
They were the objects for whom they toiled ; they were the invisible
angels who, standing or reclining by their sides, upon
this sea and wind-swept deck, as they would be, by-and-by, beneath
the overpowering autumn sun, amid the golden cornfields,
strengthen and refresh their souls, and prevent their breasts at
least from sinking under the weight of what would otherwise be
intolerable and unendurable calamity. These are the Angels of
Toil—these are the kind, invisible spirits of labor—that stand by
the side of every happy worker, lightening his burden, strengthening
his arm, and refreshing his heart — the companions, the
assistants, and the rewards of all his exertions. The Angel and
the youth passed away from this affecting spectacle— this lowest
picture of the depth of human misery— this highest proof of the
sublimity of human affection; and as the ever-involving panorama
of life circled beneath them, they beheld the same scene
re-enacted under the ever-varying circumstances of human life.
Wherever they went, they found the same ministering angels
standing by the side of the happy and successful workers. They
found the same hopefulness, the same light-heartedness, the same
radiant expression of content on the faces of those who had the
advantage of this invisible assistance. And they found, too, the
same gloom, the same wretchedness, the same weariness, hopelessness
and agony in the hearts and in the faces of that equally
numerous class, whom vice, or selfishness, or a perverse nature
deprived of the inestimable auxiliary of Love.
-D. F. McCarty.
There is no lack of angel carriers
When mortals post to God their fervent prayers !
And these are happy in their work, for still
They find their heaven in doing the Father's will.
I have a meat, said Christ, ye know not of,
So these— they carry heaven in their love.
—Gerald Massey.
