Blair Collection > Rhys Lewis, minister of Bethel

RHYS LEWIS. 22 s
efifulgent face of an angel. The light increased, more and
more; and yet it did not come through the window. It seemed
to be all within the room ; eyery object in which had now
become visible. Still did the light increase, and so sweet wag
it that my eyes became restful and enjoyed the sight. Was I
dreaming ? I am not certain ; only I believe I was awake — as
wide awake as I am at the present moment. The light reached
a climax of a kind whereof I cannot convej'- on paper any idea.
I never in my life saw anything I could fitly compare to it.
Before me in the midst of that brilliant but subdued glory
I saw my mother, sitting in a chair, not one belonging to the
room, but the old oak arm-chair she used to sit in at home. I
did not notice the kind of dress she wore, for I looked only at
her face, which, although it retained all its old peculiarities,
was lovelier a thousand times than I had ever known it. I
was not afraid, but I felt a guilty consciousness. Mother
looked neither angry nor happy. " Come hither," she com-
manded. I sprang out of bed and fell upon my knees before
her and, with my cheeks between my hands, rested my head
upon her knees, as I used to do when a child saying my
prayers before going to bed.
"My son," I heard her say; "I spoke to you of three
enemies, and of the armour. But, after all the trouble I took
with you, I fear you have no religion, and that you know
nothing of the great things."
She disappeared before I could say a word in reply. I
felt my forehead growing cold upon one of Abel Hughes's
chairs. Jumping to my feet I found the day dawning. Was
it a dream ? I do not know. But, God be thanked, I never
forgot those words of my mother !