"It is something given one in trust to be done, or taken care of. I remember very well once, when I was about your age, my mother had occasion to go out for half an hour, and she left me in charge of my little baby sister; she gave me a _charge_ not to let anything disturb her while she was away, and to keep her asleep if I could. And I remember how I kept my charge, too. I was not to take her out of the cradle, but I sat beside her the whole time; I would not suffer a fly to light on her little fair cheek; I scarcely took my eyes from her; I made John keep pussy at a distance; and whenever one of the little, round, dimpled arms was thrown out upon the coverlet, I carefully drew something over it again." "Is she dead?" said Ellen, timidly, her eyes watering in sympathy with Alice's. "She is dead, my dear; she died before we left England." "I understand what a charge is," said Ellen, after a little; "but what is this charge the hymn speaks of? What charge have I to keep?" "The hymn goes on to tell you. The next line gives you part of it. 'A God to glorify.' " "To glorify?" said Ellen, doubtfully. "Yes, that is, to honour — to give him all the honour that belongs to him." "But can _I_ honour _Him?_" "Most certainly; either honour or dishonour; you cannot help doing one." "I!" said Ellen, again. "Must not your behaviour speak either well or ill for the mother who has brought you up?" "Yes, I know that." "Very well; when a child of God lives as he ought to do, people cannot help having high and noble thoughts of that glorious One whom he serves, and of that perfect law he obeys. Little as they may love the ways of religion in their own secret hearts, they _cannot help_ confessing that there is a God, and that they ought to serve him. But a worldling, and still more, an unfaithful Christian, just helps people to forget there is such a Being, and makes them think either that religion is a sham, or that they may safely go on despising it. I have heard it said, Ellen, that Christians are the only Bible some people ever read; and it is true; all they know of religion is what they get from the lives of its professors; and oh! were the world but full of the right kind of example, the kingdom of darkness could not stand. 'Arise, shine!' is a word that every Christian ought to take home." "But how can I shine?" asked Ellen. "My dear Ellen — in the faithful, patient, self-denying performance of every duty as it comes to hand — 'Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.' " "It is very little that I can do," said Ellen. "Perhaps more than you think — but never mind that. All are not great stars in the church; you may be only a little rushlight — see you burn well." "I remember," said Ellen, musing, "Mamma once told me, when I was going somewhere, that people would think strangely of _her_ if I didn't behave well." "Certainly. Why, Ellen, I formed an opinion of her very soon after I saw you."