Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain. [Illustration] THE BLACK SHIP: WITH Other Allegories and Parables. BY THE AUTHOR OF "TALES AND SKETCHES OF CHRISTIAN LIFE," "THE VOICE OF CHRISTIAN LIFE IN SONG," ETC. ETC. [Elizabeth Rundle Charles] LONDON: J. NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 1861. ———————————— Printed by Ballantyne & Company, Edinburgh. CONTENTS. ————— THE BLACK SHIP THE RUINED TEMPLE THE JEWEL OF THE ORDER OF THE KING'S OWN THE CATHEDRAL CHIMES WHAT MAKES THINGS MUSICAL? THE ACORN PARABLES IN HOUSEHOLD THINGS PASSAGES FROM THE LIFE OF A FERN PARABLES— THE CLOCK-BELL AND THE ALARM-BELL THORNS AND SPINES SUNSHINE, DAYLIGHT, AND THE ROCK WANDERERS AND PILGRIMS THE ARK AND THE FORTRESS THE THREE DREAMS THOU AND I The Black Ship. ————— THEY lived at the foot of the Pine Mountains, in the island of the King's Garden, the mother, with her little son and daughter. The boy's name was Hope, and the little girl's, May. The children loved each other dearly, and were never separated. They never had any quarrels, because Hope was the leader in all their expeditions and plays; and May firmly believed that everything which Hope planned and did, was better planned and better done than it would have been by any one else in the world, by which May meant the island. Hope, on his side, had always a tender consideration for little May in his schemes, such as kings should have for their subjects. May would never have dreamed of originating any scheme herself, or of questioning any which Hope planned. If you had taken away May from Hope, you would have taken away his kingdom, his army, his right hand; if you had taken away Hope from May, you would have robbed her of her leader, her king, her head, her sun. Bereaved of May, I think Hope would have been driven from his desolate home into the wide world; bereaved of Hope, I am sure May would never have left her home, but sat silent there until she pined away. But together, life was one holiday to them; work was a keener kind of play, and every day was too narrow for the happy occupations of which each hour was brimful.