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Jennifer Harder

Enhancing Adobe Acrobat Forms with


JavaScript
Take Your Forms to the Next Level!
2nd ed.
Jennifer Harder
Delta, BC, Canada

ISBN 978-1-4842-9469-7 e-ISBN 978-1-4842-9470-3


https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-9470-3

© Jennifer Harder 2017, 2023

Standard Apress

Trademarked names, logos, and images may appear in this book. Rather
than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked
name, logo, or image we use the names, logos, and images only in an
editorial fashion and to the benefit of the trademark owner, with no
intention of infringement of the trademark. The use in this publication
of trade names, trademarks, service marks, and similar terms, even if
they are not identified as such, is not to be taken as an expression of
opinion as to whether or not they are subject to proprietary rights.

The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the
advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate
at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the
editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material
contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been
made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

This Apress imprint is published by the registered company APress


Media, LLC, part of Springer Nature.
The registered company address is: 1 New York Plaza, New York, NY
10004, U.S.A.
Introduction
Welcome to the first step in an exciting journey called Enhancing Adobe
Acrobat Forms with JavaScript.
My journey into learning about Adobe software began more than 20
years ago when I started college. I took a two-year graphic
communications course in Vancouver, BC. While learning about how to
set up documents for print layout using QuarkXPress and later Adobe
InDesign, I created PDF files. At that point, I saw the PDF only as a
transition from one file format to the next production step, from layout
to the printing press. It never crossed my mind what else could be done
with PDF files in Adobe Acrobat.
Several years after graduating, while doing freelance work for one
of my clients, I began to investigate the features of Acrobat to discover
what else the program had to offer. In 2008, I decided to learn more
about web design and improve my layout skills in Adobe software. After
finishing three certificates in web design at Langara College Continuing
Studies, I realized that I wanted to help students learn more about
Adobe software. There were times through the journey when I read
different computer books and felt, “OK, I’ve finished this tutorial or
project, but how does this relate to the real world and what I’m trying
to accomplish?” In 2011, I became a teaching assistant at Langara
College, and this gave me the opportunity to write my own course on
introducing students to Adobe Acrobat. While writing it, I realized
there was a lot more that could be said about Acrobat than what I could
present in a three-evening course. At that point, I was looking at one
icon in the Acrobat menu that perplexed me. It was called JavaScript.
JavaScript in Acrobat? What was that doing there? The only
JavaScript that I knew about at that point was through building
websites. Back then I had built a few basic template forms using
LiveCycle Designer, MS Word, and Acrobat, but I had never used
JavaScript in the Acrobat program. I began to wonder how JavaScript
could improve my forms.
This is when and how the idea began for developing a book for
students on the topic of Acrobat and JavaScript. After years of research,
looking at Adobe and Acrobat forums, and studying the questions and
concerns users had when trying to add JavaScript to Acrobat, I came to
the following conclusions:
Users are looking for simple solutions to programming an Acrobat
form that they will use in real-world situations. Many are looking for
the same answers.
When documentation is not written in a simplified manner, the
average user becomes intimidated. They will shy away from using the
JavaScript menu and eventually give up and ignore the tool. To them,
JavaScript coding is like a foreign language, and the average person
who has not taken web design lessons does not have a clue what it
means or where the code should be inserted, since the form field’s
property dialog boxes look nothing like a web page.
At some point, it’s important to share with others what you have
learned about Acrobat and JavaScript and not keep your thoughts to
yourself. That’s what leads to innovative ideas. However, these
thoughts need to be organized so that the user can find the solution
quickly and be able to comprehend it. And these ideas need to be
kept up-to-date.
Shortly after compiling my notes for the first edition of this book,
Adobe introduced the latest version: Acrobat DC. I saw that the layout
of the program had changed and there was no book to show the user
how to add JavaScript in this new format. I had completed the first draft
of my Advanced Adobe course and had it approved by my program
coordinator at the college. In 2016, I realized I could reach a wider
audience if the book was published, so I approached Apress. They saw
my vision, and that is how this book came to be in your possession.
In October 2022, Acrobat has with latest releases removed the
reference to Document Cloud (DC) from its name; see
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/whats-
new.html. This is the reason for the removal of “DC” from the title of
the second edition.
Newer versions of Adobe Acrobat also rely on web forms, which is a
new topic we will look at in Chapter 20.
Understanding How Acrobat and Its Forms Work
with JavaScript
If you are currently using Adobe Acrobat Pro DC or older versions, it’s
time to upgrade to the new Adobe Acrobat Pro, which we will be using
throughout this book. You can either acquire Adobe Acrobat Pro as a
stand-alone program through Adobe or get a Creative Cloud
subscription and enjoy all the exciting Adobe programs for a monthly
fee. Refer to these links and check if your computer’s operating system
meets the system requirements needed for the upgrade:
https://helpx.adobe.com/creative-cloud/system-
requirements.html
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/system-
requirements.html
Make sure to follow the online instructions and tutorials for
installing and working with Acrobat and Creative Cloud.
If you already have Adobe Acrobat Pro installed on your machine
through the Creative Cloud subscription, you may notice that Acrobat
Pro in the upper-left edge of the program says “32-bit,” even if the
version number is 22.0 or newer, while the most recent version is 64-
bit. Even with regular updates your version may not make this switch
automatically.
I found that the best way to change this application’s bit from 32 to
64 is to uninstall the application from the Creative Cloud Desktop and
then install the program again. Refer to Figure I-1.
Figure I-1 Installing Acrobat again will change it to the 64-bit version
The benefit of changing to the 64-bit version is if you are running a
newer computer, you can ensure better performance, security, and
usage of memory when opening larger files. As of January 2023, Adobe
has been gradually fading out support for the 32-bit system; see
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/kb/end-of-support-
acrobat-reader-32-bit-os.html.
If you are new to Adobe Acrobat, I encourage you to first read Adobe
Acrobat Classroom in a Book by Lisa Fridsma. Her book will give you a
basic overview of the new Acrobat features as well as some form basics.
However, that book does not go into detail regarding forms when
working with JavaScript. I consider my book to be a sequel for
intermediate and advanced users to take their forms to the next level.
Adobe Acrobat Pro will allow you to add form fields to any PDF file,
as I will explain further in Chapter 1. It can even work with pre-existing
form fields that were created in Adobe InDesign CC when the file was
exported as an interactive PDF. However, it’s important that your client
views and interacts with the forms in Acrobat Pro, Standard, or Acrobat
Reader. Other PDF readers, and some older browsers, have been known
to corrupt the JavaScript programing when saving a document, so keep
this in mind when you email the forms to clients. Make sure your clients
have the latest version of Acrobat Reader, which is free, and that their
browser is up-to-date as well.
Another reason some users may not be able to interact with
JavaScript is that they may have disabled the use of JavaScript in the
Acrobat Application under Edit ➤ Preferences Categories JavaScript.
See Figure I-2 for how your JavaScript preferences should appear in
Adobe Acrobat Pro.
Figure I-2 Acrobat Pro Preferences menu for enabling and disabling JavaScript and
security features
The following is an explanation from the Adobe website on some of
the settings. See
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/javascripts-
pdfs-security-risk.html for more information.
Enable Acrobat JavaScript: Uncheck this to disable JavaScript
completely or restrict JavaScript through APIs. This setting by default
is enabled.
Enable menu items JavaScript execution privileges: This enables
executing JavaScript by clicking menu items. When off, privileged
JavaScript calls can be executed through the menu. Executing
nonprivileged JavaScript calls through menu items is not blocked
whether this box is checked or not. This setting by default is disabled.
Enable global object security policy: This allows JavaScript
globally through APIs or trusts specific documents containing
JavaScript. This setting by default is enabled.
Note that you will not be working with any JavaScript that could
create a security risk, so you can leave the JavaScript Security area at
the default settings for these chapters as you work with the files you
download. However, I will show you how to enable the JavaScript
Debugger in Chapter 5 using the Preferences dialog box.
In most cases, Adobe Acrobat will autodetect in a PDF where most
form fields can be added in a form, but it’s not a perfect science. It’s up
to you as the author to edit and test your forms for errors as you build
them and add your JavaScript code.

What to Expect from This Book


Enhancing Adobe Acrobat Forms with JavaScript covers up-to-date, real
working examples that you can easily download, practice with, and edit
to suit your own projects. Using screenshots from Adobe Acrobat Pro,
users of previous versions will also be able to utilize these techniques.
This book also shows work-arounds and solutions to various form
issues you might encounter. JavaScript does not need to be scary. Feel
empowered by it and improve your PDF documents!
What You’ll Learn
You’ll learn how to do the following in this book:
Create calculations, rating forms, and QR code stamps using the form
elements
Understand simplified field notation and basic JavaScript for Acrobat
Use buttons for navigation
Create complex forms that include drop-down and list boxes in
combination with other form fields such as check boxes and radio
buttons
Use the Action Wizard and JavaScript
Improve form navigation and the printing of forms
Implement various types of alerts and custom validations to improve
client-entered data and avoid errors
Get new information on Adobe Sign and how it relates to Acrobat
Forms online

Note You can find the project files for the book at
www.apress.com/9781484228920.
Any source code or other supplementary material referenced by the
author in this book is available to readers on GitHub. For more detailed
information, please visit http://www.apress.com/source-code.
Acknowledgments
Because of their patience and advice, I would like to thank the following
people, for without them I could never have written this book:
My parents, for encouraging me to read large computer textbooks
that would one day inspire me to write my own books
My dad, for reviewing the first draft before I sent a proposal
My program coordinator, Raymond Chow, at Langara College, who
gave me the chance to teach evening courses and allowing me to find
new and creative ways to teach software
My various freelance clients who I have learned from and researched
more about forms and form layout through working on their projects
I would also like to thank Spandana Chatterjee and Mark Powers at
Apress for showing me how to lay out a professional textbook and
pointing out that even when you think you’ve written it all, there’s still
more to write. Also, thanks to the technical reviewer for providing
encouraging comments and to the rest of the Apress team for being
involved in the printing of this book and making my dream a reality
again. I am truly grateful and blessed.
Table of Contents
Part I: Basic Form Improvements
Chapter 1:​A Fundamental Forms Primer
Forms Review
Fields Refresher
Properties Refresher
Text Box Field Properties and Date Field Properties Dialog
Boxes
Dropdown Properties Dialog Box
List Box Properties Dialog Box
Check Box Properties Dialog Box
Radio Button Properties Dialog Box
Button Properties and Image Properties Dialog Box
Digital Signature Properties Dialog Box
Barcode Properties Dialog Box
Tabs Refresher
Editing Your Form with the More Menu and Right Pane
Setting the Field Tab Order Using the Menu Options
Clearing a Form While Working
Summary
Chapter 2:​Introduction to Actions
Getting Started
Rating Forms Value Averaging and Sum:​Working with Text
Fields
The Validate Tab
The Calculate Tab for the Grand Total Using Sum
Sum and Averaging Using Check Boxes or Radio Buttons with
Text Fields
Using Radio Buttons on Page 3 of the Project
Using Check Boxes on Page 3 of the Project
Turning Check Boxes into Radio Buttons
Basic Action Button Triggers for Reset Buttons and Printing
Buttons
Reset Button
Print Form Button
Summary
Chapter 3:​Creating a QR Code Custom Stamp
Customizing Your QR Code Stamp
QR Code Creation
Using the Stamp Tool
Final Thoughts:​QR Code for Professional Printing
Summary
Chapter 4:​Buttons, Navigation, Form, and Nonform Actions
Creating a Button Icon
Example of a Button as a Label Only
Example of a Button Combination of Icon Only
Nonform Properties Actions
Pages
Bookmarks
Web and Custom Hyperlinks
Rich Media Nonform Navigation Buttons
Layers Basic Actions
Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
made it also agreeable to himself. Sir Digby felt that his graceful
niece was an ornament to his Castle, and would fain have ignored
altogether her connection with “a low man retired from business, who
had disfigured the neighbourhood by sticking up on the heath a
cockney villa, which only wanted a swinging sign to be mistaken for
a newly built public-house.”
“Having you safe here in ward in this our Castle, we shall certainly
not let our prisoner go, save on parole to return within two hours,”
said the baronet; “Edith, I commit the charge of our captive to you.”
“But what if I am a warder not to be trusted?” asked Edith, with a
smile; “what if I connive at the captive’s escape?”
“Seriously, Isa,” said Sir Digby, “you cannot think of going back so
soon to that—that damp and not very cheerful locality;” the baronet
did not know how to designate the dwelling itself by any term
combining courtesy with truth.
“Indeed, I must return to my brother,” said Isa.
“You will stay over Sunday, at least. I have an idea—I believe that
you like attending the service at Axe.”
How greatly Isa enjoyed the Sundays spent with the Lestranges
the baronet knew not. The devotional spirit which breathed through
the church service was refreshing and reviving to her soul. To Mr.
Eardley Isa looked up as the most faithful of pastors and the holiest
of men; she met him not unfrequently at the Castle, and the deeper
the knowledge that the young maiden gained of the sterling qualities
of his character, the more she wondered that her eyes had ever
been dazzled by unsubstantial tinsel, and the more grateful she felt
to God for having preserved her from the effects of her own folly. Isa
would probably have yielded to the temptation to “stay over Sunday,”
but for the reflections which the story of Gideon had suggested to
her mind. The grove, emblem of things in themselves lawful and
desirable, which become snares when they stand in the way of duty,
might not Isa find its counterpart in the pleasures of Castle
Lestrange? Isa thought of the throwing down of self-will, the sacrifice
of inclination, and so resisted the kind pressing of her uncle, and the
more powerful pleading of her own wishes.
Edith ordered the carriage on the following morning to take her
cousin to Wildwaste; she would herself accompany her thither. Isa
would have liked to have asked her young companion to stay and
spend the day at the Lodge, to brighten its dulness with her society;
but in Gaspar’s nervous and irritable state, Isa feared that a visitor
might annoy him, especially on a Saturday morning, which was
always given to accounts. Edith, with instinctive delicacy, removed
any difficulty on the part of her cousin, by saying that she would not
this time remain to pay her visit, but drive on beyond Wild waste to
return the call of some neighbouring family.
“While I am at Wildwaste, however, I should like just to look into
the little school,” said Edith, as she and her cousin were driving from
Castle Lestrange.
“I have been into it two or three times,” observed Isa,—“I mean
into the room in which Mrs. Collins teaches the girls; I have never yet
ventured amongst the boys—the young savages who look so ragged
and wild.”
“Oh! they are polished gentlemen compared to what they were
when Mr. Arthur first took them in hand; so Mrs. Holdich has told
me,” laughed Edith. “They were like a pack of wild dogs, delighting to
torment and worry every creature unfortunate enough to come within
their reach, from poor little unfledged sparrows to Mrs. Stone’s son,
whom they actually hunted into fits!”
“And Mr. Arthur found some one to bring them into a little better
order.”
“Nay, he set about taming them himself; he used to go every
morning to play schoolmaster; the ragged little urchins thought it a
grand thing to be taught by a gentleman like him. How good does
constantly come out of what we call evil!” cried Edith. “Papa did so
much dislike letting the dear old Castle to strangers; but if he had not
done so, Wildwaste would never have had the blessing of an Arthur
Madden.”
“He must have had a kind, generous spirit,” observed Isa rather
dreamily, for every reference to the Madden family sent her thoughts
back strangely to the past.
“A brave, noble spirit,” cried Edith; “for I have heard that he stood
so alone in his labours; instead of his family encouraging and helping
him, he was laughed at and opposed—at least by his elder brother
and sister. They would, I fancy, as soon have thought of going
steadily to work as ‘hands’ in that great soap-manufactory, amongst
all the smoke and horrible scent, as of teaching dirty, ragged little
‘roughs’ their A B C in a shed! I cannot imagine Cora Madden
touching one of the Wildwaste children with the point of her parasol;
and from what one hears of her brother Lionel—but I am getting into
evil-speaking,” said Edith interrupting herself. “There is the pretty
little school-house, which it must have been such a pleasure to
design and build. Papa says that when Arthur Madden returns to
England he will certainly ask him to pay a visit to the Castle, for such
public spirit ought to be countenanced. But I dare say that Mr.
Madden wants no praise—no honour from man—that he serves his
heavenly Master in the spirit expressed in my favourite verses;” and
in her soft, almost childish accents, Edith repeated Bonar’s beautiful
lines,—

“Up and away like the dew of the morning,


Soaring from earth to its home in the sun;
So let me steal away gently and lovingly,
Only remembered by what I have done.

“My name, and my place, and my tomb all forgotten,


The brief race of life well and patiently run;
So let me pass away peacefully, silently,
Only remembered by what I have done.”

Before Edith had concluded the verses, the carriage had stopped
at the entrance to the little school-house, on the side appropriated to
the girls.
“The hive seems to be empty,” observed Isa, as she alighted. “I
thought that work was always going on at this hour, but I hear no
hum of voices from within.”
A feeble wail was the only audible sound. After tapping gently at
the door, Isa entered, followed by her cousin, into the neat little
school-room, which usually presented a scene of cheerful industry.
Its only occupants were, however, the schoolmistress and the babe
which she rocked in her arms. The poor woman looked haggard and
pale from a sleepless night, her face bore the stamp of anxious care,
and vainly she attempted to soothe the little sufferer, that seemed
from its wasted appearance not to have many more days to live.
Mrs. Collins rose on the entrance of the ladies, still continuing to rock
her sick babe.
“Pray do not rise, Mrs. Collins; I fear that your dear child is very
poorly,” said Isa, looking with gentle sympathy on the suffering infant.
The schoolmistress sank down again on her seat, and drew a
heavy sigh as she answered, “The doctor thinks I shall lose her: I did
not close an eye all last night: I really could not hold the school this
morning: it is the first time that ever I sent the children away, but Mrs.
Bolder has taken charge of even my own little boys—I could not bear
the noise for poor baby.” Mrs. Collins spoke apologetically, as one
who fears that she is neglecting a duty. Isa’s expression of sympathy
encouraged her to proceed: “I am afraid that I shall have to tell the
girls not to come to-morrow: my husband cannot undertake them as
well as the boys, for neither of the rooms would hold all together.”
THE VISIT TO WILDWASTE SCHOOL.

“Have you to teach on Sundays as well as on week-days?” asked


Edith.
“Only for an hour before morning service, and another in the
afternoon, Miss Lestrange. I’m sorry to give it up even for one
Sunday, for few of the children ever see the inside of a church; and
but for the school, as Mr. Bolder used to say, they would grow up like
heathen.” Mrs. Collins was still rocking the baby, that, to her great
relief, was at length dropping asleep in her arms.
“Shall I come to-morrow and take your class?” asked Isa. “I have
had little experience in tuition, but I could read to the girls, teach
them hymns, and question them out of the Bible, while you sit quietly
upstairs nursing your poor little child.”
The look of gratitude in the eyes of the anxious mother said more
than her words, as she eagerly accepted the young lady’s offer.
“And I will see if there is not something that I can send to do the
dear baby good,” said Edith, resolved to drive back and consult Mrs.
Holdich on the subject.
The cousins left the school-room with a pleasant consciousness
that they had lightened a heavy burden. To Isa, especially, the
feeling was sweet. What she had heard of the labours of Arthur
Madden had raised the thought in her mind, “Oh, that I could go and
do likewise; that I too could leave a blessing behind, and be
‘remembered by what I had done!’” At once a door of usefulness was
opened before her. Why should she not every Sunday relieve the
hard-worked schoolmistress, and let the weary mother enjoy amidst
her children what would then be a Sabbath indeed? Isa had for a few
weeks taught a Bible-class in London; she liked the work, it gave
interest to life, it took away the sense of weariness and emptiness
which will sometimes creep over the spirit even of the lovely and
young. Isa knew the task of tuition would be far lighter to her than it
had been to the young man whose example was before her: she
would go where she would be welcomed, amongst children already
trained to some degree of order: she would have no opposition or
ridicule to fear; for Gaspar, so long as she made no demands on her
purse, was contented to let his sister do very much as she pleased.
That brief visit to the school-room had to Isa changed greatly the
aspect of life at Wildwaste. Her Sundays at least would not be
joyless; she was permitted to do the Lord’s work, she might hope for
His presence and blessing. She had made a sacrifice of inclination
by returning to Wildwaste, and she was beginning to see that even in
that dreary place God might give her rich cause for rejoicing.
“Yes; I shall be happier even here, trying to please my heavenly
Master, than at Castle Lestrange, with the feeling ever arising that I
am seeking to please self alone.”
It was this thought that made Isa Gritton bear patiently the dull
monotony of the home to which she had returned, and the wayward
fretfulness of him whose society now replaced that in which she had
found such delight. Though Gaspar’s temper was more than usually
trying, not once did a peevish tone betray irritation, not once did a
frown furrow Isa’s fair brow. For hours, on the evening after her
return, Isa sat reading aloud to her brother a work upon commercial
statistics, in which she herself took not a shadow of interest.
Certainly her mind wandered much from the book, and when at
length she wearily closed it, Isa could not have recalled a single
sentence which it contained. But she had been serving an invalid
brother and not pleasing herself; and if this duty was less attractive
than that of feeding the Saviour’s lambs, it was equally that which He
had assigned her, and it was fulfilled for His sake.
Mankind applaud great acts of munificence, costly offerings
presented like those of Solomon in open day, in the sight of all; but
by far the greater number of the sacrifices which God accepts are
made, as it were, like Gideon’s, in the night-time, in the obscurity of
domestic life, where no praise is looked for from man. There is deep
truth in the well-known lines of Keble,—

“The trivial round, the common task,


Afford us all we ought to ask—
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To lead us daily nearer God.”
CHAPTER XI.
TIDINGS.

Early on the Saturday afternoon Lottie Stone, with her little bundle in
her hand, tripped lightly over the common towards the cottage of
Holdich, which lay embosomed within the woods of Lestrange. She
was on her way to her parent’s home, and pleasure winged her
steps. There are few joys more keen and pure than those
experienced by a young girl, like Lottie, returning to the family whom
she loves, after her first absence. What though Mrs. Stone’s
dwelling-place was but a single room over a shop, with a tiny attic
chamber for her son; to Lottie there was still a charm in the word
“home,” for love and peace abode there. She clapped her hands for
joy as the open cart in which she was seated rattled down the
narrow paved street of Axe, and she caught sight of the ungainly
figure of her only brother standing before the shop. Out sprang Lottie
almost before the horse was pulled up, and in another minute she
was locked in the arms of her mother.
How much had Lottie to tell; how fast she talked, how merrily she
laughed, as she sat at her mother’s little deal table spread with
unusual dainties—buttered muffins, and toast, and water-cresses
from the stream. The washerwoman had “cleared up and made all
tidy” for the reception of her daughter; and her son had decked the
homely room with bunches of cowslips and daffodils. Deborah’s
care-worn brow seemed less deeply wrinkled, and her thin anxious
face often relaxed into a smile, as her merry child talked over her
first eventful month of service, playfully describing what at the time of
occurrence had seemed to her anything but sources of mirth,—her
own petty troubles and ignorant blunders. Lottie’s hearers drew from
her recital that Hannah was a somewhat formidable task-mistress,
that “Master” was not very easily pleased, that crockery at the Lodge
had a peculiar tendency to slip out of clumsy fingers, but that “Miss
Isa” was the kindest of mistresses, and that a smile from her seemed
to smooth every difficulty away.
“Bless your dear heart, how your poor father would have liked to
have heard you!” exclaimed Deborah Stone, as the merry girl at
length stopped to take breath.
For the loyal heart of the deserted wife remained true in its
allegiance. Perhaps memory had softened the past, perhaps it
overleaped the years of bitter suffering on the one side and tyranny
on the other, and Deborah only thought of her husband as what he
had been in the days of his wooing. However that might be, conjugal
affection remained firm and bright like its pledge, the circlet on the
wrinkled bony finger, the sole piece of gold which its owner
possessed, and which no strain of poverty would ever induce her to
part with. When Deborah knelt down in the evening to offer her
simple little prayer with her children, very fervent was her
supplication for one absent but never forgotten: where Abner was
she knew not, what Abner was she had proved by bitter experience,
but still, “true as the needle to the pole,” the hopes and affections of
the injured woman still pointed towards her lost husband.
Sunday was an especially happy day to Lottie, it was such a
pleasure to go to what she deemed her own church, hear her own
pastor, meet again with her own companions in the Sunday school
which she used to attend. She was only disappointed when the
baronet’s carriage drew up to the church-porch, not to see in it the
bright fair face of her dear young mistress.
“A letter for you, mother,” said Mrs. Stone’s son, as he entered on
the Monday morning the little room in which Lottie, humming a lively
air, was helping her parent to clear away the remains of their early
breakfast. As Mrs. Stone’s receiving a letter of any kind was a quite
unprecedented occurrence, Lottie turned with some curiosity to see
what the missive could contain. It had come by a cross-country post,
for her brother pointed to the stamp-mark upon it, “Southampton.”
“A letter for me?—why, who would write!” exclaimed Deborah,
gazing with a look rather of anxiety than of curiosity on the address,
“To D. Stone, Wildwast,” traced in a straggling, hardly legible hand,
with “Try Axe” written below by the postmaster, showing that her
correspondent could not be aware that—years ago—she had
changed her abode. It was no wonder that Deborah did not
recognize that rude handwriting, as she had seen it but once before,
when, in the parish register, she had scrawled her own signature
beneath that of her newly-wedded husband.
“O mother, do open it!” cried Lottie; “who knows whether it mayn’t
bring us news of poor father.”
It was the same thought that had made the hand of Deborah
tremble as she had taken the letter from her son. She tore open the
envelope, and with anxious eyes glanced at the signature at the end
of its enclosure.
“It is—yes—oh! the Lord is merciful!” exclaimed the poor wife, with
something like a sob. Long experience of hardship and sorrow had
so strengthened her nature to endure, that it was very seldom that
Deborah gave any expression to outward emotion; but no one could
have looked at her at that moment and not have read in every line of
her countenance that the depths of her soul were stirred, that the few
scarcely audible words which escaped her lips came from the inmost
recesses of a heart where sorrow had so long fixed its abode, that
when joy came it startled and overpowered, like the visit of an angel.
THE LETTER.

“Mother, read more; oh! read every word!” cried Lottie, whose only
emotions seemed those of hope and delight; while her brother
looked bewildered and scarcely able to comprehend that that piece
of paper, blotted and soiled, on which his mother’s tears were falling,
actually contained the writing of his father.
It was some little time before the trembling, excited woman could,
with the help of her children, make out the scrawl, which read as
follows:—

Ancor inn, sutamton.


Dear wife,—I landed here last month. I bin vry ill 6 weeks;
i bin in det, an cant git away till i pais, so send me five punds
afor thusday in a letter, or i shall git in gret trubel; don’t tell no
one abuit me, most of all not mister Erdly, cause id be had up
for that scrape—mind don’t tell no one, but send mony quick; i
hop to be a beter husband an father; it was all along of the
drink; so no more fum yur loving
Abner Stone.

“Five pounds—how can I send him five pounds—I’ve not five


shillings in the world!” cried Deborah, glancing around her, as if to
see whether any article in that scantily furnished room could, if sold
or pawned, bring anything like such a sum, the fifth part of which she
had never possessed at one time since her marriage.
“Five pounds!” repeated her son dreamily, as he slowly moved his
fingers one after the other, apparently to aid his dull brain in making
some mental calculation.
“We must send, oh! we must send the money!” cried Lottie,
clasping her hands. “Dear Mr. Eardley might—”
“I couldn’t ask him for another penny,” exclaimed Deborah, “he has
done so much already, and he has so many alooking to him; and
then your father forbids me to tell him a word.”
“If only Mr. Arthur were in England,” sighed Lottie.
“You earns wages,” said her brother abruptly, as if he had
suddenly lighted on some fountain of wealth.
“My quarter’s wages won’t be due till next June,” replied Lottie.
“Could your master do anything?” suggested Deborah; “it is said
about here that he’s rich.”
Lottie shook her head with a very significant expression. “He may
have plenty of money,” she said slowly, “but I’m sure he don’t like to
part with it; there’s nothing to be got out of he.”
“Here’s the baker’s cart come for you, Lottie,” cried her brother,
who had sauntered up to the window.
Lottie hurriedly snatched up her bonnet and shawl. “I mustn’t keep
him; but oh! mother, if I could only think of any way to help father—”
a loud summons shouted from below cut her short in the middle of
her sentence, and quickened her movements.
“Pray, child, pray; God Almighty will show us some way:” there
was scarcely time for the parting kiss and blessing; Lottie hurried
down into the street barely soon enough to prevent her impatient
escort from driving away without her.
Very different were the feelings of the young servant girl on her
drive from Axe, from those with which, two days before, she had
entered the quaint little town. She replied at random to the jesting
observations of the baker’s boy, she seemed unable to understand
the meaning of the words that fell on her ear, for her mind was so full
of conflicting emotions that outer things could make no impression
upon it. Lottie scarcely knew whether she was happy or unhappy,
whether her inclination was to laugh or to cry. Her prayers had been
answered—her lost father was found; here indeed was joy and
cause for thanksgiving: but he was ill, in debt, needed money, and
where was that money to be procured?
“I would work my fingers to the bone!” muttered Lottie to herself,
as the cart rolled lightly along the dusty high road, “but no working
would bring more than the one pound due in June;” and thoughts of
the new boots which would then be absolutely needed would intrude
on the little maid’s mind. “I can’t go about Mr. Gritton’s house
barefoot; and then he says that I am to pay for all that I break, and,
oh! the things will slip out of my hands! Would my dear young lady
help me? but I must not tell even her that I want money for my poor
sick father. Shall I say that mother’s in trouble for rent?” The honest
soul of Lottie recoiled from the artful suggestion of the Tempter, and
she shook her head so emphatically in reply to it, that the baker’s
boy, who had been watching with amusement her earnest look of
thought and her moving lips, burst out into a laugh which startled her
into a consciousness that she was not alone.
“I say, Lottie Stone, what did you see in that thorn bush to make
you shake your head at it so fiercely?” cried the lad.
“I was only a-thinking,” replied Lottie.
“A penny for your thoughts,” said her companion.
But the answer was such a heavy sigh, that the good-humoured
lad saw that the little maiden was in no mood for jesting, and as she
turned her head sorrowfully away, he left her in peace to pursue her
reflections.
It was perhaps well for Lottie that she had not much time for
meditation after her arrival at the Lodge. Hard work has served to
relieve many an anxious heart, and Hannah took care that her little
assistant should have her share, and much more than her share, of
the labour of the house. Lottie Stone had to pay by double work for
her two days’ holiday at Axe. Yet while she washed, and scrubbed,
and tidied the rooms, the thoughts of the poor young girl were
constantly recurring to her father, and she was revolving the difficult
problem how it would be possible to procure five pounds to send to
her father before Thursday.
While Lottie was laying the cloth for dinner, she could not help
hearing the conversation going on between her master and his
sister, relative to one of the children of Isa’s Sunday class.
“I am certain that she is consumptive, and that Wildwaste is too
damp for the poor little thing. I hear that the doctor has said that her
only chance is to go to the hospital at Bournemouth.”
“I’ve no faith in doctors,” said Gaspar, applying to his snuff-box.
“If I myself had the means of sending her,” pursued Isa, “I would
never trouble you on the subject; but the expenses will be heavy,
and my purse is light, and—”
“It will always be light if you go picking up every case that comes
before you. You may throw away your money if you choose, but I
shall certainly not throw away mine;” and, rising, Gaspar walked to
the window, to put an end to the conversation.
The words which she had heard fell like cold vapour upon the
heart of Lottie. “My poor dear mistress, though she is a lady, has a
light purse; she cannot do what she wishes; she is obliged to beg her
brother for money, and he refuses to give it. Ah, there is no use in
my asking help from her! She has the will to do good, but not the
power; master has the power, but not the will. People say as how he
is rich; it don’t look like it, when he’s so angry at the candles being
used so fast. I’m sure if I were rich—;” and here the little maid’s
thoughts flowed on fast in a channel into which they had often
wandered before—how much good she would do if she were rich—
how much she wished that she had plenty of money—how strange it
was that some should be rolling in wealth, while others had scarcely
bread enough to satisfy hunger. There are many through whose
minds, as through Lottie’s, such a current of reflection is wont to run;
but the little servant-maid suspected that there was danger in giving
it free course.
“I do believe that Mr. Eardley would say—could he know of what I
am thinking—that I am letting those Midianites, Discontent and
Distrust, into my foolish little heart. It do seem as if I was beginning
to think everything wrong in God’s world, ’cause I can’t do what I
want for father. If I can’t ask Miss Isa to help me, is there not One
above whom I can ask, and who has both the power and the will to
do me good? I needn’t be hiding nothing from God; He knows all
already. He has made poor father give up the drink, and has brought
him back to England, and has helped him over his sickness, and
now He can set him free from his debt. I must pray very hard, and
pray in faith, and pray without fainting, and sure the answer will
come at last.”
And so, while she pursued her household labours, as well as when
she knelt by her bed-side at night; when the duster or the broom was
in her hand, as well as when her Bible lay open before her, the
simple-minded Lottie lifted up her heart to her Father in heaven, and
found comfort and hope in resting her cares upon Him.
On the evening of the following day, Lottie accompanied her
mistress to the meeting at the cottage of Holdich.
CHAPTER XII.
LECTURE IV.—FAITH IN TRIAL.

A very remarkable trial was now to test the faith of Gideon. We left
him in the proud position of the leader of an army of thirty-two
thousand men; and we can imagine how the heart of the patriot
would swell with thankfulness and joy, as the prospect of delivering
his country by their means brightened before him,—how he would
welcome the arrival of each brave band, and count up the increasing
number of his forces.
Further encouragement was given to Gideon by miraculous signs
vouchsafed to him by God in answer to prayer. “If Thou wilt save
Israel by my hand as Thou hast said, behold,” cried Gideon, “I will
put a fleece of wool in the floor; and if the dew be on the fleece only,
and it be dry upon all the earth beside, then shall I know that Thou
wilt save Israel by mine hand, as Thou hast said.”
Early on the morrow the chieftain arose, and sought the fleece
where he had laid it. He found it heavy with moisture, though the
ground lay dry around it; and Gideon wrung out from the dripping
wool a bowlful of water.
Yet Gideon ventured to beseech God to grant a reversal of this
miraculous sign, in further confirmation of his faith: “Let not Thine
anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this once: let me prove,
I pray Thee, but this once with the fleece. Let it now be dry only upon
the fleece, and upon all the ground let there be dew.”
Even as Gideon had prayed, so was the sign vouchsafed; the soft
dew lay on the earth around, while the fleece remained dry.
It has been remarked that in the fleece of Gideon we may see not
only a sign, but also a type of Israel, the chosen people of God. The
living water of divine truth, the dew of a peculiar blessing, rested
upon the children of Abraham when the rest of the world was as a
dry and thirsty land. Now—alas for those who rejected, who still
reject their Messiah!—the sign is reversed. As a dry fleece the Jews
remain in the midst of Christian nations, a marvel to the world; the
dew which falls so richly around them rests not on them as a people.
Oh, may God hasten the time when the Jews also shall receive the
water of life; when they shall look on Him whom they pierced; and
when God shall make use of them as His chosen instruments for the
conversion of the heathen! Looking forward to that blessed time, St.
Paul—himself a Jew—exclaims, What shall the receiving of them be
but life from the dead? Let us pray then, my brethren, for the dew of
grace to fall upon the dry fleece, that Jerusalem, the city of the great
King, may once more become the joy of the earth.
Gideon, strengthened by signs from heaven, and surrounded by
the hosts of Israel, might now fearlessly and confidently await the
conflict with Midian; but he was not only to do God’s work, but to do
it in God’s appointed way. Not by might, nor by power, but by My
Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts. The Lord thus spake unto Gideon:
“The people that are with thee are too many for Me to give the
Midianites into their hands, lest Israel vaunt themselves against Me,
saying, Mine own hand hath saved me. Now, therefore, go to,
proclaim in the ears of the people, saying, Whosoever is fearful and
afraid, let him return and depart early from Mount Gilead.”
In making such proclamation, Gideon was obeying a command
given through Moses (Deut. xx. 8), though it is possible that he might
have omitted to do so without the special direction from above.
Startling was the effect of the proclamation, and it needed strong
faith in Gideon not to falter when the force of Israel began to melt
away like a snow-ball, till more than two-thirds of the whole number
had deserted the camp. Truly many had been called, but few were
chosen. Where were those who had so readily obeyed the call of the
trumpet, and quitted their homes for the field of war? Of how many
might it be said, Being harnessed and carrying bows, they turned
back in the day of battle. They were not to share the glory; they had
faltered in the moment of trial. Oh, brethren, may it never be so with
us! May the fear of man, which bringeth a snare, never make us
shrink back from the duty before us. What must have been the
shame of those who had come to the gathering of the hosts of Israel,
and who had then departed without striking one blow, when the
rocks and mountains rang with the shouts of their conquering
brethren, and the victory in which they might once have shared was
won without them! No man having put his hand to the plough (or, to
the sword), and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of heaven.
The force under Gideon had now dwindled from thirty-two
thousand to ten thousand men. Human wisdom would have deemed
these all too few to oppose the multitudes of Midian encamped in the
valley before them; but not so judged the God of hosts. The Lord
said unto Gideon, “The people are yet too many; bring them down
unto the water, and I will try them for thee there: and it shall be, that
of whom I say unto thee, This shall go with thee, the same shall go
with thee; and of whomsoever I say unto thee, This shall not go with
thee, the same shall not go.”
Gideon, in obedience to the command, brought down his forces
unto the water, leaving the selection of the chosen band of heroes
unto Him who readeth the thoughts of the heart. Doubtless the
Israelites were thirsty from their long march in the heat of that sultry
clime; by far the greater number threw themselves on their knees by
the water, stooping down eagerly to drink; three hundred only lapped
from their hands the cooling draught. And the Lord said unto Gideon,
“By the three hundred men that lapped will I save you, and deliver
the Midianites into thine hand; and let all the other people go every
man unto his place.”

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