es loaded upon the steamer
from the docks extending out into the lake. At such times a crowd of
young people frequently arranged to go for a pleasant ride on Lake
Michigan, and a few times Bessie had gone.

There was to be such an excursion on the occasion of which I wish to
speak, and the young people expected to attend a circus in a city close
to the haven to which they were going. Bessie wished very much to go.
She soon obtained her father's consent, but went to her mother with many
misgivings, for she knew that her mother never went to a circus and that
she had always spoken against her going at other times.

Mrs. Worthington was very busy, but she always had time to advise her
daughter and to hear her requests. She listened carefully to every word
her daughter had to say, and then remained silent for a few minutes. At
length she said: "Bessie, there are many things to consider about your
going. You know how I love to have you go for a ride on the water when I
know you are in good company. I also love to have you attend places of
interest to you, when I know there's nothing to defile your mind or lead
you from the path of purity. But, Daughter, there are many things in the
world that look beautiful to the eye but tend to lead the soul astray.
Do you think Jesus would go to a circus? Do you think you could get any
good should you go? You have passed your tenth birthday. I think you're
old enough to take this matter to God in prayer and let him decide it
for you. Go and ask him to direct you to some passage of Scripture that
will open your understanding and help you to know what he wants you to
do."

"Oh, mama," said Bessie, who had felt strange about the matter, "please
tell me yes or no, and I'll say no more about it."

"No, Bessie; it will, in many ways, be better for you to do as I've
said," answered her mother tenderly but decisively.

Very reluctantly Bessie left the room, and, taking her Bible, whispered
a prayer that she might open it to something that would help her to
decide. As she opened the book, her eyes fell upon these words: "Vanity
of vanities, saith the preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity."
Hurriedly she turned the pages, thinking that she might perhaps have
opened to that passage anyway. Next she read, "I said in mine heart, Go
to now, I will prove thee with mirth; therefore, enjoy pleasure: and
behold this also is vanity." Returning to her mother, she read the
words, but ended by sayin