{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_73786/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_73786","id":"gutenberg_73786","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/73786","summary":null,"tags":["Boys -- Juvenile fiction","Category: British Literature","Category: Novels","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Teaching & Education","Christian life -- Juvenile fiction","Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Sunday school teachers -- Juvenile fiction","Young women -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.\n\n\n\n                           MABEL WYNN\n\n                               OR\n\n                          \"THOSE BOYS\"\n\n\n                               BY\n                         FAYE HUNTINGTON\n\n\n\n                             LONDON\n                GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LIMITED\n                     BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL\n                GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n                            CONTENTS.\n\nCHAP.\n\n    I. THE CONSECRATION\n\n   II. WORK\n\n  III. OPPOSITION\n\n   IV. THE WATCHWORD\n\n    V. CONFLICT\n\n   VI. SURRENDER\n\n  VII. A REFORM\n\n VIII. A PRAYER ANSWERED\n\n   IX. FRAGMENTS OF TALK\n\n    X. HERBERT'S TRIAL\n\n   XI. THE BOY'S MEETING\n\n  XII. A LESSON OF WAITING\n\n XIII. A CIRCLE BROKEN\n\n  XIV. DUNCAN FOLLOWS HIS OWN DEVICES\n\n   XV. DOCTOR MYERS \"LENDS A HAND.\"\n\n  XVI. THE INGATHERING\n\n XVII. ALMOST WITHIN\n\nXVIII. TROUBLES\n\n  XIX. A BATCH OF LETTERS\n\n   XX. LEWIE AMESBURY'S CREED\n\n  XXI. DECISIONS\n\n XXII. SOWINGS\n\nXXIII. WHAT THEY SAID ABOUT IT\n\n XXIV. WHERE WE LEAVE \"THOSE BOYS.\"\n\n\n\n                           MABEL WYNN.\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE CONSECRATION.\n\n   \"My all is on the altar.\"\n\nWESTVILLE had a new sensation. Deacon Griffin, earnest Christian man\nas he was, ever ready to use tongue, hand and money for the cause of\nChrist, shook his head, and said he didn't know about these things.\nThere was so much danger of falling into the ways of the world; the\nChurch must be wary of innovations.\n\nThen good Mrs. Culver had opposed the plan, and determined to stand\naloof. What was the use in making a stir! They had gone on for years\nwithout such an affair, and for her part, she didn't believe in\nnew-fangled notions.\n\nHowever, in spite of strong opposition, a few brave hearts\npersevered and carried the matter forward, and Westville had its\nfirst \"Sunday-School Institute.\" These few feeling the want of more\nlabourers, sensible of their own want of knowledge as to the best mode\nof carrying forward the work, invited one whose life is devoted to\nthe cause to give a course of instruction upon topics connected with\nthe work, hoping to be themselves better fitted for their duties, and\ntrusting that others might be led to enter the same field of labour.\n\nMany, like Deacon Griffin, looked upon Sunday-schools as especially\nfor children; some, like Mrs. Culver, clung to the old ways. As a\nchild she had recited her seven verses Sabbath after Sabbath, without\nquestion or comment on the part of her teacher; brought her penny for\nthe mission fund, and carried home a library book, or perhaps a copy of\nthe \"Dayspring\" or \"Messenger,\" and had about as much idea as a kitten\nwhat all or any part of it meant; and she taught her class in very much\nthe same way. True, in maturer years, the precepts and promises stored\nin her mind had an influence upon her heart and life. As if Christ's\nprecious words were not for little children to carry in their hearts as\nwell as in their memories!\n\nIn those three days, much work was done for the Master. With\ninstruction, discussion and earnest talk were mingled many prayers and\nmuch praise. The interest growing, the audience increasing in numbers,\nuntil at the last session, the great church was filled to its utmost\ncapacity, and many hearts were throbbing with emotion. New thoughts\nhad found their way into the minds of gray-headed old men, and to some\nof them it now seemed a grand thing this idea of a whole congregation\ncoming together for the study of God's word. And old men and women\nalmost through with church-going, the middle-aged, busy fathers and\nmothers, and the young, enthusiastic and eager, pledged themselves\nto the work and joined in the consecrating hymn. It was grand and\nsolemn, that chorus of hundreds of voices. Many of feeble faith were\nencouraged, slothful souls were quickened, while to some, it was the\nhour of a new and entire consecration to Christ. As the song died away,\nthe voice of the leader, smooth and clear, filled the house.\n\n\"Father in heaven,\" he prayed, \"we thank thee for this evidence that\nthou hast been with us, directing and guiding us by thy Spirit. We know\nnot what vast results may grew out of our efforts to advance thy cause,\nand we are content to leave the knowledge with thee. Thou hast heard\nour solemn consecration. Wilt thou enable us to keep the vow? May we\nall feel its solemnity and importance, and may each of us be faithful\nto our promise. Wilt thou bless these thy children, who work together\nhere? May they work hand to hand in Christian love and forbearance,\nillustrating in their lives the truths they teach. May they be patient\nand persevering, untiring and full of the spirit of devotion. May they\nhave all needed wisdom and every Christian grace, and may thy blessing\nso crown their efforts that multitudes shall throng the streets of\nthe beautiful city led into the upward way by these thy servants. And\nthough we no more meet together here, at last, dear Christ, we shall be\ntogether and always with thee. Amen.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nWORK.\n\n   \"O thou whose call our hearts has stirr'd!\n    To do thy will we come.\"\n\n\"I'm here,\" began Mabel Wynn, in her bright way, presenting herself\npromptly the next Sabbath at the superintendent's desk. \"You know I am\na fresh recruit. I shall make a poor show, but I'm ready for drill.\nWhere shall I go?\"\n\nMr. Clarke looked at her earnestly for a moment. He knew her only as\nthe daughter of the richest man in Westville, a man who was prompt to\nserve Christ with his money, but whose time, strength and influence\nwere given to the world. He knew that Mabel came to church regularly,\ndressed handsomely, and was a sort of a leader among the young ladies.\nHe knew, too, that she was a professed friend of Christ, but he did not\nknow the earnest and unselfish purpose of her heart to work for the\nMaster. Mrs. Wynn called her daughter odd. \"One of Mabel's freaks,\" or\n\"just one of her odd whims,\" she would explain to her friends.\n\nIf to live for a purpose, if to do one's work with earnestness, if\nto seek out opportunities for doing good, if to carry the spirit of\nChrist into every day's living\u2014in short, if to be a sincere, consistent\nChristian, if this is to be odd, then Mabel was odd. As a child she had\nbeen a Sunday-school scholar, but as she grew up, she had yielded to\nher mother's persuasions and discontinued her attendance.\n\n\"It was such an inconvenience,\" explained Mrs. Wynn. \"So tiresome to\nremain after service, and such a trouble to send back the carriage.\nThomas did not like it at all.\"\n\nBut now Mabel determined that circumstances must yield; fortunately\nThomas had departed, and a very obliging Michael reigned over the\nstables.\n\nThus she stood ready and willing, while Mr. Clarke deliberated a\nmoment. His first impulse was to send her to Dr. Eaton's class of\nyoung ladies, and this was just what she expected\u2014indeed she had\nat first intended to take her place there at once, but some of her\nmother's teachings in regard to observing the proprieties under all\ncircumstances, impelled her to report herself at headquarters. But\nthey were short of teachers; so many of those who had come in for the\nfirst time, had asked for a scholar's place, that old classes were\noverflowing and new ones had to be formed.\n\nWhile Mr. Clarke deliberated, a scene of confusion across the room\nattracted his attention. A thought struck him. \"Who knows but she\nmay be able to do something with those boys? Anyway they must have a\nteacher to-day.\" And with a smile for the eager face before him, he\nnodded in the direction of the five unruly boys.\n\n\"Mr. Clarke,\" began Mabel, then stopped suddenly.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"Nothing. I forget that it is my business to obey a superior officer.\nI'll go.\"\n\nAs the opening exercises went on, Mabel had time to still her throbbing\nheart and lift her soul to God for help. She had not thought of\nbecoming a teacher at once, and what to say or do first, was a puzzling\nquestion. She tried to remember what they did in those days so long\nago when she went to Sunday-school. Then she tried to recall some of\nthe instructions of the past week, but she could think of nothing that\nwould exactly fit the case. Dissimulation was no part of her nature,\nand when the time came, she turned toward the class; but what a class\nit was!\n\nFive bright-looking boys, combed and brushed and neatly dressed, but\nthe element of quietness seemed entirely wanting. There they were\u2014five\nbobbing heads, five pairs of elbows pushing this way and that, five\npairs of shuffling feet, five pairs of eyes and ears, open and eager\nto take in any sight or sound that might be turned into fun. Evidently\nthey understood all the boy-tricks in the catalogue. Now and then a\nhead would be thrown back with a peculiar spasmodic jerk, and when the\ncause was looked for, another boy's arm would be found quietly resting\nupon the back of the seat, thrown lovingly around his neighbour's.\nOf course the owner of the arm had nothing to do with it. Suddenly\nthe small boy at the end of the seat found himself on the floor, a\nconcerted pushing along the line having brought about the catastrophe.\nThere were pinching and nudging and treading upon toes, and winking\nand laughing, and much whispering. Altogether a scene of disorder. And\nthese five active, eager minds were to be fed\u2014those five souls to be\nled to Christ! What a work for some earnest disciple! No wonder that\nMabel's heart almost quailed. But she said, simply and frankly,\u2014\n\n\"Boys, Mr. Clarke has sent me here to be your teacher to-day, but I\nam not prepared to teach the lesson, and I don't know the ways of the\nschool. You will have to teach me, I guess. How many have learned the\nlesson? All of you?\"\n\nThere seemed to be something remarkably fun-provoking in the question,\nfor the boys were very merry over it.\n\n\"Dear me, how they do act!\" thought Mabel. \"What shall I do with them?\"\nBut she kept all signs of her dismay out of her face, and put the\nquestion to them individually.\n\nPerry Morse \"hadn't looked at it.\" Henry Trafton \"had not been there in\na good many weeks, and didn't know what the lesson was.\" Lewie Amesbury\nhad learned it. Herbert Bradford and Duncan McNair had only looked it\nover a little.\n\n\"Very well, Lewie, then you are the one to lead off. The rest of us\nwill open our Bibles and do the best we can with reading and looking\nout the references.\"\n\nBut it turned out that there was no Bible in the class, except Mabel's.\nHere was a new trouble\u2014no lesson, and no books to refer to! The next\nexpedient was for the teacher to read a paragraph, and request the\nclass to repeat it in concert; but their attempt to do this created\nmuch merriment, and seemed to attract the attention of those around\nthem; so that plan was abandoned, and she simply read over the whole\nlesson, and tried to give a paraphrase of it. Then to Lewie,\u2014\n\n\"What struck you most in the lesson?\"\n\nAt this Henry giggled and whispered.\n\n\"Say, Lewie, do you hit back when you are struck? Fighting ain't\nallowed here.\"\n\nLewie gave a reproving nudge at his neighbour's sides, and looked\nsteadily at his boots. Evidently he had not learned the lesson with\nreference to ideas, and Mabel was obliged to make her own points,\nand, as she afterward said, they were too hastily whittled to be very\npointed. Yet the time slipped away pleasantly, and Mabel's parting word\nwas\u2014\n\n\"Well, boys, I'm glad I came. We've had a nice time; at least I have.\nNow, won't you study up the lesson for next Sabbath, and be sure to\nbring your Bibles?\"\n\nMr. Clarke always kept an eye on those boys, and as he glanced towards\nthem now and then he saw that they were a trifle less restless than\nusual, and that one or two seemed somewhat interested in what the\nteacher was saying. That was all he saw. He had been praying for a\nteacher for that very class, all the while trying to pick one according\nto his own idea of fitness, and one after another had failed until he\nalmost despaired. As yet he had no thought that God had sent this young\ngirl as the answer to his prayers, and during the week that followed\nthis first Sabbath of Mabel's teaching, he sought out one whom he\nfancied would fill the place, and urged him to take the class, but was\nmet by a decided refusal; and so it came about that another Sabbath\nfound them teacherless. They were all prompt. Three of them had their\nBibles. Perry Morse had forgotten his. Henry Trafton never owned one.\n\n\"I wonder who we'll have to-day?\" said Perry.\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe Professor Mills,\" answered Duncan, while a laugh\nwent round at the Professor's inability to cope with their fun-loving\npropensities.\n\n\"I wish we could have Miss Wynn,\" said Lewie.\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" said Henry, sneeringly. \"You like her, of course. She\npraised you a little.\"\n\n\"She didn't do any such thing. I'll leave it to the boys if she said\none word that sounded like it,\" answered Lewie, with some spirit.\n\n\"Well, she looked it, anyway; but you needn't get wrathy over it. I\ndon't care if she did, you are welcome.\"\n\n\"Don't quarrel,\" said Herbert; \"I liked Miss Wynn because she didn't\nput on airs and pretend to be so very wise. She just talked pleasant,\nand the kind of talk that a fellow could understand. I vote for Miss\nWynn.\"\n\n\"Well, Herb, go and ask Mr. Clarke, before he picks out somebody with a\nface as long as your arm and a voice to match.\"\n\nMabel had chanced to meet Dr. Eaton at the door and accepted his\ninvitation to take a seat in his class, and here Mr. Clarke sought her.\n\n\"Dr. Eaton,\" he said, \"those boys want Miss Wynn. I am sorry to take\nher away, and glad, too.\"\n\nThe colour mounted quickly to Mabel's forehead, and she exclaimed,\u2014\n\n\"Why, Mr. Clarke, I really don't know how to teach.\"\n\n\"Can't help that! They want you, and if they can't have what they want,\nthey won't stay.\"\n\n\"Miss Wynn,\" said the superintendent, when Sunday-school was over that\nday, \"you'll have to keep that class!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nOPPOSITION.\n\n   \"I am with you alway.\"\n\nMABEL'S friends exclaimed and protested against this new freak. Her\nfather and mother insisted that her health was insufficient; that the\ntax upon her nervous system would be too severe; that she already\nhad duties enough at home and in society to fill up her time. Mr.\nand Mrs. Wynn belonged to that large class of professing Christians,\nwho, whenever the call comes for more labourers in the vineyard, talk\nlargely of home duties and influence in society, the demands of their\nposition, and the like, excusing their worldly-mindedness with this\nsort of twaddle about \"the claims of society.\"\n\nAs for Mabel's health, an incessant round of parties, picnics, pleasure\nexcursions, making calls and entertaining company, was never supposed\nto overtax her nervous system. It was only when she was compelled to\nstep outside the world of fashion that her parents' anxieties were\nawakened. They never connected the days of languor, headache, and\nlassitude with late hours and excitement. The \"claims of society\" never\novertax body or mind!\n\n\"But, father,\" said Mabel, \"I think this is one of the duties I owe to\nsociety\u2014to help those boys into right ways, if I can, so that they may\nbe its ornaments when they get to be men.\"\n\n\"That's just what I object to!\" interposed Mrs. Wynn. \"Those boys! If\nyou had chosen a class of sweet little girls, it wouldn't be quite so\nbad. But those rough, uncouth boys! Why, they'll hang about you, step\non your dress, use your fan, handle your parasol, speak to you in the\nstreet, and annoy you in a dozen different ways.\"\n\nMabel smiled at her mother's list of the unpleasant features of the\ncase. It would be such a terrible thing to have Herbert Bradford or\nLewie Amesbury lift his cap gracefully, as either of them knew how to\ndo, and accompany the act with a smiling, \"Good morning, Miss Wynn!\"\n\nThen, too, she remembered that young Mr. Cranson had stepped upon\nher dress at the picnic, and tore off a yard or two of ruffling, and\nDr. Myers had played with her fan, as one or more broken splints\nwould testify, and her mother had not seemed to look upon either\nas unpardonable offences. But young Mr. Cranson was the son of a\nmillionaire, and Dr. Myers was\u2014ah! Well, he was Dr. Myers! Perhaps he\nwill speak for himself.\n\nMrs. Wynn continued, not noticing Mabel's amused look\u2014\n\n\"Besides, you won't be able to manage them. I've heard Mr. Clarke say\nit was the worst class in school. They have had I don't know how many\nteachers within the last six months. The last was Professor Mills. I\nshouldn't think you would undertake where he had failed.\"\n\nIt was true, that class of bright-eyed, eager-faced boys had the\nreputation of being the most unmanageable set in the school, and Mabel\nknow it. She answered\u2014\n\n\"Mother, I did not choose\u2014\" She hesitated. Should she speak of the\nentire consecration she had made of her young life to the cause of\nChrist? Would they understand her if she told them that she believed\nGod had called her to that very class? It was only a moment: then she\nwent on\u2014\n\n\"If I give myself to the Sabbath-school work, or any other work for the\nMaster, it is not for me to choose the place. If I am called to this\npost, I shall, in some way, be made equal to it.\"\n\n\"But, Mabel,\" continued her mother, \"it will be so very inconvenient.\nYou cannot walk home, and Michael will not like driving back for you.\nIf you persist in this absurd notion, I suppose I shall have to give\nup going to church, for I cannot endure the fatigue of remaining to\nSabbath-school.\"\n\n\"O mother! It won't be so bad as that. The church is only half-way to\nthe seminary, and I used to walk to school and home again every day\nin pleasant weather, and I ought not to have grown so delicate in two\nyears as to be unable to walk a quarter of a mile. I do it very often\nnow when out calling or shopping.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know; but there will be rainy Sundays, and besides the\ndinner hour will interfere. Dear me! I do wish you would give up\nthe ridiculous notion. Everything will be turned upside down if you\npersist.\"\n\nMabel was slightly amused at the idea of her mother's well-ordered\nestablishment being so easily reversed. Then she looked grave as she\nthought if it were a music lesson, or a dancing lesson, or a croquet\nclub, at any hour of any week-day, breakfast, dinner, or supper would\nspeedily adjust itself to the arrangement. Of so much more apparent\nimportance were these things than the grand work of saving souls, of\ntraining the young for the life in this world and for that which is to\nfollow, and which is eternal! Dinner or the Master's work\u2014which shall\ntake precedence?\n\n\"Mother,\" she said, calmly, \"there are always difficulties in the way\nof any undertaking of importance, and I suppose that it is a part of\nour business to overcome or push them aside. As for rainy Sundays,\nyou and father very seldom go out in unpleasant weather, and I think\nMichael will help me over that difficulty. As for dinner, I'll take a\nlunch and wait for supper.\"\n\nMrs. Wynn had other objections to urge, or thought she had.\n\n\"How obstinate you are, Mabel! I don't want you turned into a prim\nyoung woman, going about with your arms full of Testaments in black\ncovers, and Tract Society publications without any covers at all,\nmixing up with all sorts of people, and getting put on committees and\nappointed as delegate to conventions, and all that sort of thing. And\nthen if one of those horrid boys gets the measles or mumps, he will be\nsure to send for you to visit him instead of the minister. Don't be a\nfanatic, I beg of you.\"\n\nMabel made no reply, and her mother continued\u2014\n\n\"I don't want to be understood as being opposed to Sunday-schools.\nI think them a very good thing in their way, and you know that your\nfather is very liberal in giving for the cause. But there are plenty\nof people to carry them on\u2014people who have nothing else to do\u2014people\nwho are not in society, and who make the concerts, excursions, and such\nthings a sort of substitute for the entertainments of our circle. For\nthem it is all very well, but as for you\u2014\"\n\n\"As for me, mother,\" interrupted Mabel, \"I beg your pardon for\nrudeness, but I want to finish that sentence. As for me, I believe that\nI ought to help. It is Christ's work, and I have no real excuse for\nstanding idle. I want you to consent, just as you would if I proposed\nto join Professor Mills's Greek class. Let me try it for a few months.\nIt may not be so annoying as you think.\"\n\nMr. Wynn had occupied himself with the morning paper while this talk\nwent on, but he had not been so absorbed as to lose the drift of\nthe arguments. Mrs. Wynn really fancied that she had used powerful\narguments, while Mabel had but one to urge. \"I think I ought,\" was\nsufficient for her, and to this her father now responded,\u2014\n\n\"'As he thinketh in his heart so is he.' I think, Helen, you'll have to\nyield the point. Mabel's one argument really outweighs all ours. Let\nher try it.\"\n\nMabel looked her thanks, and the ever-courteous Mr. Wynn bowed himself\nout, and hurried away to the store.\n\n\"There!\" exclaimed his wife. \"I might have known how it would be.\nHowever strongly your father may be set against any of your odd\nfancies, he is sure to come around, and you get your own way at last.\nI only wonder that you were not entirely spoiled, for you have had\neverything you wanted ever since you were born.\"\n\n\"That's so, mother,\" laughed Mabel. \"And who gave me the gilt toilet\nset to play with, and the inlaid work-box for a doll-house, and let me\nhandle those choice prints that show my fingermarks until this very\nday? Who coaxed father into giving me a gold watch as soon as I was\nfairly in my teens, and how did I get the white pony, and a host of\nother things? I guess somebody besides father would have to own to part\nof the spoiling.\"\n\n\"Oh, but those were reasonable things compared with some of your whims.\nBut never mind now, the question seems to be settled, so we won't talk\nany more about it. Just run and tell Miss Moore that she may finish the\nblue poplin skirt this morning, and I will be in about eleven to have\nthe grosgrain fitted.\"\n\nThus Mrs. Wynn dismissed the subject and turned to one more agreeable;\nand after all, the whole matter seemed so very unimportant, not\nworth making a fuss over. Very likely Mabel would soon tire of her\nundertaking. Anyway, she did not propose to trouble herself further\nabout the affair. Mrs. Wynn was somewhat inclined to aristocratic\nideas, and somewhat chary of her welcome and favours to those outside\nof \"our set.\" Then, too, she had a horror of fanaticism; and while she\nrejoiced that Mabel had early taken her place among Christ's disciples,\nshe thought her too enthusiastic, feared she would be over-zealous, and\nwas distressed with apprehension lest some of the proprieties of their\ncircle should be disregarded. She did not see that Mabel was making\nhigh attainments in the Christian life, that God was fitting her to do\nhim service. It seemed a lowly place to which he had called her. Was it?\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE WATCHWORD.\n\n   \"Without thy guiding hand we go astray.\"\n\n\"NOTHING else at present, thank you. You may put these with the\narticles Mr. Wynn has selected, and he will be in this afternoon to\ncomplete the order. Come, Mabel; dear, are you ready?\" And Mrs. Wynn\nturned from the gentlemanly proprietor of the picture store, and\naddressing the last words to her daughter, prepared for her departure,\ndrawing her handsome wraps a little closer, and giving a premonitory\nshiver.\n\nMabel was busy with a quantity of engravings, and replied,\u2014\n\n\"Just wait a few moments, please. I want to select a few of these for\nthe boys.\"\n\n\"Oh, those boys! I really believe you are more interested in making\npurchases for them than for yourself!\"\n\n\"How can you think so, when I have already supplied my own wants in\nthis line?\" responded Mabel.\n\n\"Well, there are other wants to be provided for, I suppose you know. We\nare to go to Stewart's next to look at those shawls. I hope you will be\nable to give your attention to that matter,\" said Mrs. Wynn, a little\nimpatient at the delay.\n\n\"Yes, mother, I promise to give my mind to shawls for a whole half hour\nif necessary. Only don't hurry me now, please.\"\n\n\"But we must hurry,\" was the reply. \"We have only three hours more\nbefore we leave, and a great deal to do yet.\"\n\nMr. Wynn had come to New York for a stock of winter goods, and his wife\nand daughter had accompanied him to make purchases for themselves.\nMabel always enjoyed such trips. She liked the whizz and whirr of\nthe city; she liked to watch the hurrying stream of people, to spend\na morning in an art or book store, to go to the park\u2014in short, she\nenjoyed the sights and novelties as all residents of quiet country\nvillages enjoy such occasional visits. She even shocked her mother\nby insisting that she positively enjoyed riding in the street cars.\n\"Because,\" she said, \"it is the very best place to see what sorts of\npeople fill up this world.\"\n\nBut nowadays, she was always on the look-out for something to help her\nin her work for \"those boys,\" as Mrs. Wynn always designated them.\nHaving accepted the position of teacher, she took up the work with\ngreat interest and energy. Those boys were to carry through life the\nimpress of her instructions. Would it be for good or ill? More than\nthat\u2014their characters were being formed for eternity. To lift them\nabove low pleasures, evil thoughts and sinful habits; to teach them how\nbest to use their powers, how to avoid failure, and make their lives a\nreal success; to educate them for Christ\u2014this was her work; for this\nshe girded herself with much fervent prayer and faithful study; to\nthis end, she sought a mere complete consecration to Christ, knowing\nthat her own life should be the exponent of the religion she would\nteach them, realizing that an example of holy living is more than much\nteaching.\n\nSome of them were nearing the age when boys think they are too big to\ngo to Sunday-school, and their teacher resolved if possible to keep\nthem, so their teacher was continually seeking to strengthen her hold\nupon them. Whenever and wherever she found anything she could make\navailable as a means to the end she had in view, she seized upon it.\nSometimes the merest trifle would give rise to a thought or plan, and\nshe would say, \"I must work that up for the boys.\"\n\nAnd that morning in the picture room, she had caught an idea from a\nconversation which was going on over a portfolio of \"Views on Venice.\"\nThe gentleman of the party was evidently familiar with the scenes which\nthese \"Views\" represented, and Mabel grew interested in his remarks. He\nwas saying,\u2014\n\n\"These paths, one can't call them streets, are fearfully narrow and\ntortuous. There is just one thing to prevent a stranger from getting\nhopelessly lost in the tangle of crossings and twistings. The principal\nfootpath is of white marble, and this leads directly to the Ponte di\nRialto. So one has only to keep to this white line to come out all\nright. And I have often thought,\" continued the speaker, whom Mabel\nnow recognized as Dr. V., an eminent Sunday-school worker, \"how the\nlife of Jesus, pure and perfect, leading straight on to the goal of our\naspirations, is laid before us in the Gospels, a sure guide for our\nfeet amid the crooked ways of life.\"\n\nThat was all. At that moment, the clerk brought the articles for which\nshe was waiting, and claimed her attention. But an hour or two later,\nhaving disposed of the shawl question, and various other matters in\nthe way of laces, ribbons, gloves and the like, she had time to finish\nout her list of Christmas gifts for her class. It was a Bible this\ntime for Henry Trafton, who did not own one. Not that his parents were\ntoo poor to buy one for their son, but they had never thought anything\nabout it. In their handsome parlour a family Bible, in Turkey leather\nand gilt clasps, reposed upon a cushion that was a marvel of needlework\nand patience, and Mrs. Trafton had a smaller volume which she kept upon\nher private book-shelf. But Henry came Sabbath after Sabbath without a\nbook, and read the lesson out of his neighbour's Bible. No wonder he\nnever had a lesson!\n\nAs Mabel made her selection, a thought of the fragment of the\nconversation which she had just heard flitted through her mind, and her\neye alighted upon the words, \"I am the way,\" and then \"None cometh unto\nthe Father but by me,\" she exclaimed, \"That's the very thing!\"\n\n\"What did you say?\" asked the attendant, wondering.\n\n\"Oh, excuse me; I'll take this, and this,\" and to herself she said, \"I\nmust learn not to talk loud when I speak to Mabel Wynn. But that is\njust the thing for our class motto. 'Follow the White Line.' If I could\nonly manage the cards, if I were a bit of an artist, I could get them\nup myself. I must manage it.\"\n\nShe did. The cards with the motto printed in the style of the\nilluminated texts\u2014which she had been looking over, failing to find\njust the right thing for her purpose\u2014were ready by Christmas\u2014small\nones for book marks, and larger, handsomer ones in pretty frames. They\nwere hung upon the tree of many fruits which the school met to enjoy\nand appropriate, and each boy received a private letter explaining\nthe motto and containing words of earnest warning and affectionate\nentreaty. They were invited to take Christ as a pattern and more than\nthis, to accept him as a Saviour.\n\nWhen they came to talk it over together, the teacher said, \"I hope you\nwill all adopt it as your own motto. It is my earnest prayer that we\nmay all make our lives as near like Christ's as possible. We shall need\nto 'watch and pray' if we would keep the path he has laid down, for\nthere are many turns in this life and many things to draw us out of the\nnarrow way. But none of you have said how you like it.\"\n\n\"I like it,\" said Lewie Amesbury. \"At school, day schools, I mean,\nteachers are always holding up some great man for a pattern, but I\nthink it is a great deal better to have a perfect pattern. I s'pose we\ncan't be perfect, but we ought to try and live as near the rules Christ\nlaid down as we can.\"\n\nLewie was the \"best boy\" in the class, always prompt, always ready with\nthe lesson, always quiet, looking grave over the frolics and tricks of\nthe other boys, giving assent to the truth presented, and seeming ready\nto follow the right course. But did he really love the Saviour?\n\nHerbert Bradford spoke next.\n\n\"I like the motto well enough, but it wouldn't be honest for me to\nadopt it entirely. I don't want to be a Christian now, and that is what\nit means, isn't it?\"\n\n\"It leads to that, certainly,\" answered Miss Wynn; \"but, Herbert, will\nyou tell us of one point in which you would not like to be like Jesus?\nWe read that 'Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with\nGod and man.' That was while he was yet a boy. You would not object to\nfollow such an example? When he grew to manhood, he entered upon that\nwork for which he came, 'Led by the Spirit.' Listen to this,\" and Mabel\nturned over the leaves of her Bible, and read,\u2014\n\n\"'The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed\nme to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the\nbroken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening\nof the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year\nof the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all\nthat mourn; to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion; to give unto\nthem beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of\npraise for the Spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of\nrighteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.'\nWhat a grand mission! And how perfectly and beautifully fulfilled! If\nwe take up the study of Christ's life here on earth, as I proposed to\nyou, we shall see how desirable it is to follow closely the example of\nour Divine Master.\"\n\nAfter giving out the next lesson, which was to be a study of some of\nthe prophecies regarding the Saviour, Mabel said,\u2014\n\n\"And now remember the watchword and 'follow' closely. Whenever you are\ntempted or puzzled during this week, ask yourself\u2014What would Christ\nsay? Will you do that? Herbert, will you, so far as you can, let Him\nsettle the questions that come up this week?\"\n\nIt seemed a simple thing, and Herbert promised. Little did he think,\nthat before another Sabbath, he should meet and decide the most\nimportant question that could come to him in his life.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nCONFLICT.\n\n   \"Justice and Mercy for my life\n    Contend! Oh, smile and heal the strife.\"\n\n\"YES, I was thinking of that. We will talk it over when we come\ntogether this evening. Just tell Deacon Griffin about it now, won't\nyou? I want to speak to one of the boys. Excuse me.\" And Mr. Earle\nhurried down the aisle and out of the door.\n\n\"Herbert, one moment, please.\"\n\nHerbert Bradford turned back to meet his pastor, wondering but\npleased, for Mr. Earle was a favourite with the young people of his\ncongregation, and his influence over them was something remarkable. He\nhad that rare and happy faculty of making the shyest and most awkward\nschoolboy among them feel quite at ease in his presence, and the timid,\nself-conscious girl ceased to feel the hot blood mounting to her\nforehead, and forgot that she had two hands to be properly folded, and,\ntoo, he knew how to draw out hidden conversational powers, often quite\nastonishing the possessors themselves.\n\n\"I have a letter here from Tom Nichols,\" he said, as he joined Herbert.\n\"I suppose you would like to read it?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I always like Tom's letters. I wish he was back here. He is\na capital fellow!\" said Herbert, with enthusiasm.\n\n\"Yes, Tom is a fine boy, and his letters are always pleasant. But you\nwill find this one different from any he ever wrote before. There's\ngood news in it, Herbert,\" said Mr. Earle, with a little ripple of joy\nin his voice that was testimony as to the excellence of the \"news.\"\n\nHerbert looked up with a bit of wonder in his eyes; then, as it\nflashed upon him what the good news might be, he dropped his head and\na sad look crept over his face. Mr. Earle's way led up the street and\nHerbert's down; so they parted at the first corner, without further\ntalk, only the minister said, as he turned off\u2014\n\n\"I wish, my boy, that you could write me just such a letter.\"\n\nThe other boys had gone on, and Herbert walked slowly along, opening\nthe letter and reading it on the way. A part of it ran thus:\n\n   \"DEAR FRIEND:\u2014I've done it! A week ago tonight I made a resolve that\nI would turn square about and serve God the rest of my life. I was quite\nafraid that he would not have me for his own, I had resisted so long:\nfor he has been calling me almost ever since I can remember, and I have\nbeen promising, and putting off, until I began to think that maybe he\nwould just turn around and put me off. But I found out by my Bible that\nhe is always ready to receive any and all that come, and now I know\nit, I feel it, that he has accepted me, that Christ is my Saviour and\nFriend. I am very glad that I did not wait any longer.\n\n   \"If I should live to be an old man, I should not have any too much\ntime to work for Jesus. I want to go right to work for him. I wish you\nwould tell me how. We have a very good minister here, but I do not feel\nas well acquainted with him, and he does not know or understand me as\nyou do. I want to thank you for your faithfulness when I was with you;\nand will you forgive me that I was so careless and ungrateful? . . .\n\n   \"I wish I could see the boys. Tell them from me that I wish they\nwould begin right away to serve Christ. It is not dull or gloomy work.\nI never was so happy. There are some nice boys here, and we have a\npleasant Sunday-school class and a good teacher, but I don't believe\nI shall ever like any boys quite as well as some of the Westville boys.\nI pray for them every day. I want them to love Jesus.\n\n                            \"Your friend,\n\n                                     \"TOM NICHOLS.\"\n\nMr. Nichols and Mr. Earle were old friends, and when the first-named\ngentleman went abroad with his invalid wife for a protracted stay,\nTom came to Westville to stay with Mr. Earle. He had belonged to that\ntroublesome Sunday-school class, and was about the most mischievous\nboy in it. His fun would out at the most unseasonable times, and the\nboy-loving Mr. Earle was sometimes troubled and puzzled us to the\nbest way of managing his charge. But the faithful work was accepted,\nthe earnest prayers answered, and on this Sabbath morning, the good\npastor came before his people with a new courage, an increased\nstrength, brighter hopes and stronger faith. One more soul saved! The\ndoor of another young heart thrown open to Christ! Another young life\nconsecrated to the Lord's work! No wonder that there was an unusual\nemphasis put upon the selections, more earnestness in the prayers and\nthanksgiving, and an unwonted vigour thrown into the preaching, so that\nDeacon Griffin said to his wife, as they rode homeward,\u2014\n\n\"I don't understand our pastor's mood to-day. I thought I could detect\na sort of an undertone of triumph running through all the services\nthis morning. And for my part, things look very gloomy. The state of\nreligion in our church seems to be at a low ebb.\"\n\n\"I noticed it too,\" replied Mrs. Griffin. \"When he read, 'I will praise\nthe Lord with my whole heart in the assembly of the upright and in the\ncongregation,' it seemed as if he really had something unusual to thank\nGod for; but I haven't heard of any encouraging signs.\"\n\n\"No, I should think not,\" responded the deacon, sadly. \"'Pears to me if\nMr. Earle had thought of the big crowd they had up to Wynn's sociable\nnight, and the half dozen we had at prayer-meeting Thursday night, he\ncouldn't have read and preached so jubilant like. Some of the psalms\nof confession or lamentation would have seemed more suitable in these\ntimes. I don't know what he meant.\"\n\nHe found out that evening. A few faithful ones were in the habit of\ncommuning together for half an hour before evening service, for a\nlittle talk with each other and with God over the interests of the\nkingdom, and here Mr. Earle told them of the news that had gladdened\nhis heart, and of one or two things that had occurred in their midst,\ncausing him to hope that God was not far from them.\n\n\"We will watch more closely, work more diligently and pray more\nearnestly,\" said the pastor.\n\n\"Yes, we will!\" exclaimed Deacon Griffin, whose whole heart\u2014and it was\na large one\u2014was warmed by this bit of sunshine; and such a prayer as he\nthen and there offered! Such thanksgiving! Such entreaty! Surely God\nmust have heard.\n\nMeantime a great tumult arose in Herbert Bradford's heart as he read\nTom's letter. Tom a Christian! It could not be; and he read the letter\nover, to make sure that he had taken in its meaning. Yes, it was so.\n\n\"That wild boy! And he loved fun so, too! And I was going there next\nsummer. Now we won't ever have any more good times, and he will always\nbe dinging at me about this thing; and Mr. Earle, he wishes, and Miss\nWynn, she\u2014well, she don't say much. I suppose she knows a fellow can't\nstand it; but she means it. I think most every Sunday that she will\nbring some of us around before long, in spite of ourselves. My! How her\nface would glow! It would be almost worthwhile, just to see how glad\nshe would be. That was a splendid letter she wrote last week. I almost\nmade up my mind then to do as Tom has\u2014turn right about. Pshaw! I can't.\nI don't want to, either. There's time enough five years from now.\n\n\"Is there?\"\n\nHe was just passing a house where a bit of crape and white ribbon\nfluttered from the door-knob, and perhaps that suggested the question.\nAnyway, it had thrust itself in, and refused to be put aside; and\nHerbert found in the course of that week that to get back to his old\nstate of careless indifference, he would have to fight his way through\na host of questions, suggestions, and facts that came up from he knew\nnot where, meeting him at every turn.\n\nOf late, he had fallen into the habit of spending an hour or more of\nSabbath afternoon over the next Sabbath-school lesson. He certainly\nmade a great show of being studious, bringing out all the commentaries,\nBible dictionaries, and books of reference that the house afforded.\nTo-day he was out of sorts, declaring to himself that he was half a\nmind not to go near the class again. Anyway he wasn't going to study,\nhe didn't want to see or hear of a Bible, he would read his library\nbook\u2014it looked interesting.\n\nDragging an easy chair into the recess of a bay window, he settled down\nin it, saying to himself, \"Now, I won't think of Tom nor Mr. Earle\nagain to-day,\" and began to read. But relief from his troublesome\nthoughts did not come that way. In the very first chapter, he was met\nby a boy as restless and unsatisfied as himself, and not finding him a\nvery agreeable companion, he threw down the book, and then yawned and\noh deared, then went after a dish of apples, then to the store-room for\na lunch, though he had just been to dinner.\n\nOn his way back, he looked into the dining room to see what time it\nwas. \"Only four o'clock! Three hours to evening service! What shall I\ndo with myself? I suppose I may as well go at that lesson. It won't be\nany worse than doing nothing. I can't stop thinking. I wish I could!\"\n\nThe books were soon brought out, and study commenced. He began picking\nout prophecies concerning Christ in the book of Isaiah. Pencil and\npaper were called into use, and he went on busily and contentedly for\na while, though now and then a verse made him think of Tom, and Mr.\nEarle, and Miss Wynn, and what he knew they were all praying for, the\nthing he knew he ought to do, but didn't want to, and didn't mean\nto. All the glorious prophecies and abundant promises given to the\nworld through the inspired writer were not for him that day. Though\nhe copied and arranged them, realizing something of their beauty and\nsignificance, he felt that he had no part in them. Suddenly he started,\nlaid down his pencil and shut his Bible, then opened and read again\u2014\n\n   \"'The way of peace they know not; and there is no judgment in their\ngoings: they have made them crooked paths; whosoever goeth therein\nshall not know peace.'\"\n\nIn running over the chapter, to see if it contained any special\nreference to the Messiah, his eye had rested upon this verse; and it\nseemed as though the idea of crooked paths, contrasted with the white\nline he had promised to follow, met him everywhere. That promise! He\nalready saw where it would lead him, and the thought of it greatly\ndisturbed him. He left his books and went up to his own room in search\nof diversion. There the framed motto met him as he opened the door. He\nturned, shut the door quickly, and went down-stairs again, and wandered\nfrom room to room until his sister Julia exclaimed\u2014\n\n\"Why, Bertie! What does ail you? You don't stay put anywhere.\"\n\n\"I don't know. I guess I'm tired of Sunday,\" answered Herbert.\n\n\"Well, I never knew you to act so before; and it is like all the\nSundays, isn't it? Just so much church and Sunday-school, and\njust so many hours between, and cold meat and pickled oysters for\ndinner, because Bridget had gone to her church; mamma reading the\n'Meditations,' and papa poring over a big book, and you and I\u2014Oh! I've\ngot a splendid book; don't you want to read it? It is about a boy\u2014\"\n\n\"Oh, one of those awful good boys, I suppose,\" interrupted Herbert,\nwith an emphasis that said, \"I don't want to hear anything about your\n'good boys.'\"\n\n\"No, sir!\" returned Julia. \"He was a real hateful boy\u2014a great deal\nhatefuller than you are when you tease me.\"\n\n\"Indeed! He must have been hateful. I think I'll take a dose.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Julia, laughing, \"I suppose I ought to tell you that he did\nmost all of his bad things before the book begins, and in the first\nchapter somebody spoke a word that made him stop short off and turn\nright about.\"\n\nBut Herbert was gone, banging the door after him. What was the matter\nwith people and things to-day? What possessed everybody and everything\nto bring up the very thoughts he was trying to get rid of? We all know\nthat when our attention is turned to any particular subject, we are\nastonished at the frequent recurrence of things that seem to bear upon\nthat very point. Herbert imagined that a very unusual combination of\nevents had conspired to rob him of peace.\n\nOnly a few days ago, during the discussion of some school affair, Perry\nMorse had said to the boys, \"You needn't worry about that; Herbert\nBradford always keeps his promises.\" And Herbert had been rather proud\nof being known as a boy who could be relied upon.\n\nNow here was that foolish promise to Miss Wynn. He had promised to let\nChrist decide all questions that might come up for decision, and here\nat the outset was Christ himself saying, \"Follow me;\" and to Herbert\nthis meant a full surrender, and that he was not ready to make. He went\nto evening service with his father and Julia, and of course, in his\nstate of mind, he thought Mr. Earle preached right at him. \"He might\njust as well have called my name straight out,\" he said to himself.\n\nThe days that followed were not very pleasant ones. He could not get\nrid of his troublesome thoughts. In the morning, he longed for night,\nthat he might go to sleep and forget everything; but when night came,\nhe dreaded to go to bed, for he was tormented with the fear that he\nshould never wake up again in this world. Wednesday was New Year's. The\nboys had arranged a grand skating party. Though one of the foremost\nand most enthusiastic planners, Herbert had suddenly lost his interest\nin the frolic. Still he meant to join them, and came down to the river\njust as a group were strapping their skates, all talking and laughing,\nfull of glee. One, Johnny Davis, stood a little aloof looking rather\nsober.\n\n\"Don't you skate to-day?\" asked Herbert, coming up to him with his\nskates over his shoulder.\n\n\"No!\" answered the boy shortly. \"There's never any good times for me.\nMy old skates have given out entirely, and I cannot afford a new pair.\nI thought I'd come down and see the boys off; but I'd better have\nstayed at home,\" and he choked a little at the thought of his poverty.\n\n\"No,\" said Herbert, \"it's a good thing you came. My skates are aching\nfor a chance to cut that ice; so, if you will take charge of them, I'll\nbe much obliged. I don't feel like going.\"\n\nHe turned and ran up the street before the astonished boys understood\nwhat he was about.\n\n\"Well, Johnny,\" said Lewie Amesbury, \"that's good for you; but for the\nlife of me, I can't make out what the fellow means. He has acted like\nsixty all the week!\"\n\nWhile the boys were puzzling over his queer behaviour, Herbert was\nwalking rapidly up the street, thinking in this wise:\n\n\"A pretty mess I've made of it! What will the boys say? And what would\nthey say if they knew that I was afraid to go on the ice? Yes! Actually\nafraid. Fool and coward that I am. But they won't think of that, for I\nhave often been down the river when the ice bent and cracked under me.\nBut I couldn't go to-day, though it is thick and strong. The fact is,\nI am afraid to die; and it seems as though death was lurking around\nsomewhere, waiting for me. This question will have to be settled pretty\nsoon, or I shall be crazy. Dear me! What did I promise for, and why\ndid Tom's letter come just then, and why did everything happen just in\nthe way it did. There's Mr. Earle now! I've got to meet him\u2014there's no\ndodging that!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nSURRENDER.\n\n   \"Here is my heart.\"\n\nINSTEAD of passing on, Mr. Earle turned quietly about and walked\nback with Herbert, chatting upon indifferent matters in his usual\nentertaining way. Pretty soon he said\u2014\n\n\"Why, I thought you boys were all off down the river this morning?\"\n\n\"Not all of us,\" answered Herbert. \"I'm here.\"\n\n\"I see you are. But I thought the new skates were for this occasion?\"\n\n\"Well, they were; but I let another boy take the job of scratching the\nice. I\u2014well, I changed my mind about going.\"\n\n\"Humph! I should think so.\"\n\nA minute or two after Mr. Earle said, suddenly\u2014\n\n\"Herbert, can I help you any?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I guess not.\"\n\n\"But you need help.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" answered Herbert, briefly.\n\n\"You know I am your friend, and that I shall be glad to help you,\" said\nMr. Earle.\n\n\"If you could tell me how to get rid of a promise, without either\nkeeping or breaking it, and how to forget things that I don't want to\nthink of, I'd like it. But I suppose you can't do that,\" said Herbert,\ntrying to laugh, but not succeeding very well.\n\n\"If I could,\" replied his pastor, \"I might be doing you an injury. I\nthink we shall find a better way. Let us hear how the case stands.\"\n\nHerbert had thought that he would not talk with Mr. Earle for anything\nin the world, but now he burst out with it all.\n\n\"It's about Tom's letter, and your sermon, and our class motto, and a\npromise I made to Miss Wynn about it, and\u2014I suppose I'm very wicked,\nand I know God is angry with me.\"\n\n\"No, Herbert, you are angry with God. You are angry because He has sent\nthe Holy Spirit to lead you to the Saviour. He is doubtless angry with\nyour sin and rebellion, but He loves you, and would save you. He wants\nto make you his friend; He asks your love, and you refuse it; and worse\nstill, you are angry because He asks it. Isn't that the way of it?\"\n\n\"I suppose so. I suppose it is a dreadful thing to say, but I don't\nwant to be a Christian.\"\n\nHe expected his friend would be shocked at his assertion, and was\nsurprised at the quiet reply.\n\n\"Well, in that case, why trouble yourself any more about it?\"\n\n\"But I know I ought to be.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's it? Well, Herbert, I must say I am a little surprised. I\nthought you were always ready to do whatever you were sure you ought.\nDid you want to milk Mrs. Brown's cow every day for a fortnight while\nshe was laid up with a sprained ankle?\"\n\n\"No; but you know I was partly the means of her getting hurt, and I\nthought I ought to help her.\"\n\n\"Exactly. And I suppose you don't always want to obey the rules at\nschool, but you know you ought to do so; and judging from the public\nreports, you do what you ought, not what you want to do. I saw you at\nthe wood-pile last Saturday. I don't imagine that you wanted to do it,\nfor I never saw a boy who liked to saw wood, and I am pretty sure your\nfather did not compel you (you see I know his way), but you knew you\nought. Isn't that all true?\"\n\n\"Yes, but this is different.\"\n\n\"Different? Yes, in a sense.\" And now Mr. Earle's voice grew deep and\nsolemn. \"It is an act for eternity, an act that decides the colour of\nall your future, an act that ranks you with the sons of God or with the\nchildren of wrath! It is different! A priceless gift\u2014life everlasting,\na mansion in the beautiful city of our God, a pure heart, a crown of\nglory, all freely offered! And you turn away, saying, 'I know I ought\nto accept all these, but I really don't want them.' Suppose you say to\nyour father, 'I know I ought to be very grateful for all you do for me;\nI ought to be glad to honour you, but I don't want to be called by your\nname.'\"\n\n\"But, Mr. Earle,\" said Herbert, \"I've been called by my father's name\nalways. I belong to him, and have always had his care.\"\n\n\"And haven't you always had God's care? Haven't you always belonged to\nHim, body and soul? Refusing to take the glorious gift of free pardon\nthrough Christ doesn't change that at all. Though you grieve Him by\nrebellion, you belong to Him. And if you are not called by his name, it\nis because you will not own Him as your God and Saviour. But, Herbert,\nwhy not be a Christian?\"\n\n\"Oh, there are a good many reasons,\" answered Herbert. \"For one thing,\nI don't like to begin right here where I have always lived. If I were\ngoing to a new place, I could take a stand without its seeming queer.\"\n\n\"If somebody should offer you a splendid fortune,\" said Mr. Earle,\n\"I suppose you would say, 'I don't want this known here where I have\nalways lived. It would seem queer if I should have or do anything\ndifferent from the old way. I think I had better wait until I go\nsomewhere else before I accept the gift.' Nonsense, Herbert! You are\nnot that sort of a boy. Now I know you pretty well, and I can give the\nwhy note about as accurately as you could yourself. You have an idea\nthat to be religious is to be dull.\n\n\"Why, some of the most earnest Christians I know are among the most\nmerry-hearted people I meet. To be a Christian is to be at peace\u2014to\nhave joy and gladness in the heart. Then you are looking too far ahead,\nthinking there is this or that cross that you can never take up, this\nor that duty that you can never perform. You look up at the mountain\nand think, 'I cannot scale these heights: there is no use in starting.'\nYou forget, rather, you have never experienced, the love that lightens\nthe burdens, smooths the hard places, and gives strength for every\nhour. Take up the work that lies before you to-day, and do not worry\nabout what may be required of you to-morrow or next day. I trust that\nyou will find your way to peace, but it will not be by shaking off your\nserious thoughts.\n\n\"But what were you saying about your class motto and a promise to Miss\nWynn?\" asked the minister, after a moment's pause.\n\nHerbert explained as well as he could the idea embodied in the class\nmotto. Mr. Earle listened attentively, and as he caught the idea, he\nexclaimed\u2014\n\n\"Beautiful! Beautiful! A while line indeed, pure and perfect, and so\nplain that we need not mistake.\" Then referring to the promise, he\nasked, \"But, Herbert, what did you think when you promised Miss Wynn?\nIt isn't like you to make a rash promise.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered Herbert, \"I thought I knew what I was about. I'll tell\nyou. I quarrelled with Fred Easton about a seat in the school-room,\nand I thought of that, and knew that I ought to give in; then father\nhad promised to take Julia and me out for a ride on Monday; I wanted\nto go to the glass-works, and Julia wanted to take three or four more\nand go over to Carter's to tea. We had almost quarrelled about it, and\nwhen Miss Wynn asked me to promise to refer everything to Christ, I\nremembered that, and decided to give up, because Julia gave up to me\nlast time father took us out. It was just such little things that I had\nin mind.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Mr. Earle, smiling. \"You committed yourself, expecting\nonly a slight skirmishing, not looking for the grand battle, and your\nideas of honour will not allow you to break your word, though you had\nno intention of promising so much. Well, my boy, there is but one way\nout of it. Make an unconditional surrender. Go to Christ and say, 'I am\nready to follow wheresoever thou leadest, even into the thickest of the\nconflict.' With such a leader you will not faint nor fall.\"\n\nThe two had walked up the street until they reached the church, when\nMr. Earle, taking a key from his pocket, turned in at the gate, saying,\n\"Come in, Herbert,\" and the boy had followed. There was to be an\nevening service, and the fire was already built in the lecture room.\nMr. Earle drew forward one of the two arm-chairs for his companion, and\noccupied the other himself, and their talk went on for a little while.\nVery quietly and pleasantly the pastor discoursed of the wonderful\ntheme\u2014the new birth\u2014making clear to the boy's mind the simple truths of\nChristianity, sweeping away mists of error, piercing clouds of fear,\nand pointing to the one Source of light.\n\n\"I sometimes think,\" said he, \"that it is no wonder so many stumble\nat the very threshold of the kingdom. We have surrounded the idea of\nconversion with such mystery, and darkened the entrance way to the new\nlife with theories and doctrines, and a mind unused to solemn thoughts\nshrinks away from trying to penetrate the mysteries of the change. It\nis a solemn hour when a life is voluntarily given into God's keeping,\nthe hour of the soul's surrender. And God's work in the heart is a\nmystery. But our part is so easy and simple, and the change in the life\nand habits comes about so quietly and naturally, that we are astonished\nto remember our dread of this life. It is a great and solemn change; I\nwant you to realize that, but I want that you should also remember that\nyour part of the work is very slight, and that your benefits are very\nincalculable.\"\n\nThis interview, which Herbert dreaded and shrank from, closed with an\nearnest prayer. Mr. Earle said, \"Now, Herbert, what shall I say to\nChrist for you?\"\n\nFor a full minute Herbert looked straight into the stove, and Mr. Earle\nwaited. The good man seemed to understand the boy, and know when to\nspeak and when to wait. At length, with tears in his voice and eyes,\nHerbert said, \"You may tell him that I am ready to follow.\"\n\nThey had risen from their seats, and now Mr. Earle threw an arm over\nthe boy's shoulders and exclaimed, \"My boy! My boy! My brother in\nChrist!\" And, standing thus, he poured out his heart, not in words of\nentreaty, as he had thought to do, but in joyful thanksgiving.\n\nAs for Herbert, a strange calm had succeeded the tumult of the last\nfew days. It seemed as if he had stepped into a new world. As he was\nleaving the room, he said, \"Well, I have said I was ready to follow\nChrist, and I am, but I don't know the first step to take.\"\n\nMr. Earle had just drawn out his watch. Holding it up, he answered,\n\"Take it toward home, eat your supper and feed your rabbits, and\nremember that you may as truly and really follow the Master in these\nevery-day affairs us though you proclaimed the gospel from the pulpit.\nIn fact, Herbert, you may sometimes find that it will require more\ngrace to take up the common duties of life in the right spirit than to\nminister at the altar.\"\n\nHerbert went home with a light step, and never once thought of the\nskating party, nor of the surprise his early return would occasion. He\nmet Julia in the hall.\n\n\"Why, Bertie!\" she began, \"back already? I thought you were going to\nskate home by moonlight.\" Then anxiously, \"Anything happened?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Herbert. \"But you needn't be scared; nothing has\nhappened to the skaters that I know of. The fact is, I didn't go.\"\n\n\"Didn't go!\" echoed Julia. \"Then where have you been?\"\n\nHerbert hesitated. Should he\u2014could he tell her all about it now. It\nwas so new, he had not got used to the deep peace and the strange\nhappiness. Could he talk about it? How should he tell her? She waited\nfor an answer; but as he looked up before he spoke, she exclaimed\u2014\n\n\"What is it? I never saw you look that way before!\"\n\n\"How? What way?\"\n\n\"Why, you look so\u2014so\u2014as if the sunshine had got inside, and was pouring\nout through your eyes, and your mouth, too,\" she said, laughing.\n\n\"I guess you've hit it, Jule. I\u2014I'll tell you about it. I have been\ntalking with Mr. Earle, and I\u2014you know about the motto. Well, it's no\nuse pretending to follow, I'm going to do it in real earnest. I thought\nto-day was a good time to settle it, and it is done. Christ is now my\nLeader.\"\n\n\"O Bertie,\" said Jule, softly, \"I am so glad!\"\n\n\"Why, Julia! Do you love him too?\" asked Herbert, wondering.\n\n\"Why, I've always loved him, but I didn't know that it was just loving\nand trusting him, and trying to please him, that gave people the name\nof Christians, until Mr. Earle explained it to me. Oh, won't Miss Wynn\nbe glad!\"\n\n\"Where have you been this afternoon?\" asked Mr. Bradford as he came in\nto tea.\n\n\"With Mr. Earle, sir,\" answered the boy, promptly.\n\n\"Ah! You were in good company, then,\" said his father, passing on to\nthe dining room.\n\nAs they left the table, Herbert said, \"Father, if mother is willing, I\nwould like to take Julia down to church tonight. You know it is lecture\nnight.\"\n\n\"Very well.\"\n\nAs Herbert went up-stairs, he said to himself, \"I couldn't tell father\nright out that I have found Jesus, but maybe he will see. If I follow\nHim as I ought, he must see.\"\n\nMr. Earle telegraphed a quick look to Mabel when Herbert and Julia\nentered the lecture room before the evening service had begun. Mabel\ncaught the glance; also one from Herbert, and his happy look, and said\nto herself, \"They know something that I don't; I must find out; I can't\nwait. Oh, if it should be that God has heard me, and answered even\nbefore I had expected!\"\n\nAs they passed out after the meeting closed, a low voice said, \"Is it a\nhappy New Year?\" and the quick response was \"Yes;\" brief, but full of\nmeaning, and understood by the happy teacher.\n\nAs Mr. Earle had hoped, God came very near to them in the weeks that\nfollowed. Many were brought into the kingdom. Five of Miss Joslyn's\nclass of eight girls were led to give their hearts to Jesus. Bright,\nlaughing Lou was a faithful teacher. The girls loved her, and clustered\nabout her so that one could hardly tell which was teacher and which\nwas taught (and, indeed, what Sunday-school teacher is there who does\nnot feel that they themselves are taught many valuable lessons by\ntheir class?). She had been their teacher for several years, labouring\nearnestly for them, and now she had her reward in part.\n\nBut Miss Wynn's class, excepting Herbert Bradford and one other, stood\naloof. If Mabel was surprised that her prayer for Herbert was answered,\nmuch less was she prepared for Henry Trafton's avowal of love for the\ndear Redeemer. He had appeared the most unpromising boy in the class,\nand she had found it difficult to make him comprehend her instructions;\nbut he heard the call; he understood the plain command, \"Follow me,\"\nand straightway he obeyed. The others were diligent and attentive, but\nclosed their hearts against Him who, entering in, would mike their\nlives complete, their happiness secure.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nA REFORM.\n\n   \"Whatsoever thy hand findeth.\"\n\nTHROUGH many improvements had come in with the fresh growth of interest\nin the Sunday-school cause, Mr. Clarke had not yet seen his way\nclear to the establishment of regular teachers' meetings for prayer\nand study. Occasionally a meeting to talk over ways and means would\nbe appointed, with the invitation extended to all interested in the\nschool. The result of the call would be a thin attendance, the talking\ndone by Superintendent Clarke, Deacon Griffin and Dr. Myers, with\nnow and then a word from Deacon Holt and Mr. Earle. These proposed\nmeasures, discussed them, and then decided upon them, though, as a\nform, the questions might be put to vote, the popular side calling up\ntwo or three hands from the back seats.\n\nIt was some months after Mabel joined the working force of the school\nthat one of these meetings was announced. To talk over the interests\nof the infant class and other matters connected with the school, Mr.\nClarke had said, \"Tuesday evening at seven o'clock,\" repeating the\nlatter part of the announcement with considerable emphasis. Promptly\nat the hour Mabel Wynn was at the door. To her surprise she found it\nlocked. She stood a moment in doubt, looking up and down the street,\nthen seeing Lou Joslyn across the way she joined her.\n\n\"Why, Lou,\" she began, \"is the meeting given up?\"\n\n\"I think not. Why?\"\n\n\"There is nobody there and the door is looked.\"\n\nLou laughed as she answered, \"Oh, is that all? You are too early by\nhalf an hour!\"\n\n\"That can't be,\" answered Mabel; \"the meeting was to be at seven\no'clock, and it is ten minutes after now.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, you see they come when they get ready. You'll soon find\nout. There's Deacon Griffin now; he has the key, and he will unlock\nthe door, and go away. Deacon Holt will come pretty soon, and look in,\nand go away; then Mrs. Culver and Mrs. Gibson will go in, and wait,\ntaking the opportunity to talk over the state of things in the church,\nand outside, too. Dr. Myers will come next, with the evening paper; he\nwill lean against the fence and read while he waits. About half-past\nseven, Mr. Clarke will be on hand (he has tried the door once before\nyou came); the deacons will come back, and a few more will drop in, and\nthe meeting will begin.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" said Mabel, at the close of Lou's rattling explanation.\n\"What shall I do? I don't like promenading up and down the street\nwaiting for meeting to begin, and I don't like to go there and sit\nalone in that great forlorn room.\"\n\n\"I was going to call upon Mrs. Lewis,\" responded Lou, \"but if you like,\nwe will go in now and set a good example for the minister and the\ndeacons.\"\n\n\"Is that the way you always do at your meetings?\" asked Mabel, as she\nand Lou walked down the street toward Mr. Wynn's store, where Michael\nwas to wait for her. \"Don't any of the lady teachers ever say anything?\"\n\n\"Why, no! That is, not aloud,\" answered Lou, laughing.\n\n\"I declare,\" continued Mabel. \"I could hardly keep still. There were\nhalf a dozen things I wanted to ask, and one or two suggestions I\nshould have made; but I was a newcomer, and no one else said anything,\nso I didn't dare.\"\n\n\"Well, you see,\" explained Lou, \"when we have any plan we talk to\nMr. Clarke beforehand; get things all worked up, you understand, and\nhe pushes them through if he can. Then if any new idea comes up, we\nwhisper it over, and somebody beckons to Dr. Myers, and he tiptoes\nover, listens to a whispered argument, and tiptoes back. Then pretty\nsoon, he gets up and says, 'It has been suggested,' &c. Then we ladies\nnod and smile, and are very much gratified that our ideas are getting\nan airing.\"\n\nMabel was much amused at Lou's absurd way of putting it, though judging\nfrom the meeting she had just attended it was exactly true.\n\n\"Well,\" she said, \"it is a queer way of doing things.\"\n\n\"So it is, Miss Wynn,\" said Mr. Clarke, coming up behind them. \"Can't\nyou and Lou bring about a reform?\"\n\n\"Oh!\" exclaimed Lou. \"I am not of the stuff reformers are made of. New\nways are so uncertain. We are all used to the old plan, and it works\nvery well. We are pretty sure of getting our way, and I think it is the\nwhispered consultations that bring it about.\"\n\n\"No doubt of it. I would not break those up for anything,\" responded\nMr. Clarke, mischievously, as he hurried forward to overtake Deacon\nHolt.\n\nOne or two more meetings after the same pattern roused Mabel to\naction. First she talked it over with Lou, who liked her proposition\n\"immensely,\" and to whom she said\u2014\n\n\"I do not wish to push myself forward, and if you, who are an old\nteacher, will talk it over with the others, the lady teachers, I mean,\nand enlist them, I am sure we can bring it about.\"\n\n\"Splendid!\" exclaimed Lou. \"And we won't let the gentlemen know a thing\nabout it until it is all done.\n\n\"Of course,\" continued the merry girl, \"Mrs. Culver won't like it. She\nnever wants us to get out of the old track.\"\n\nMabel had noticed that they all were free enough to express their\nopinions when they were clustered about the door or gathered in\nsomebody's parlour, and she said to Lou\u2014 \"If we only had a cozy little\nroom where we could come together without so much stiffness, and talk\nover our affairs, we might get along better; but that great bare room\nchills everybody.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" replied Lou. \"These straight, hard benches put 'yes,\nma'am,' and 'no, ma'am,' into me, and scare everything else out.\"\n\nConnected with the lecture room was an apartment that had been\noriginally intended for a pastor's study, but owing to Mr. Earle's\npreference for a study in his own house, the room had long been unused\nexcept as a sort of lumber room. It had a bay window, the walls were\nunsoiled, the carpet stored away in a box, the curtains rolled up and\nshoved behind a book-case. The plan was to fit up this room as a church\nparlour. Miss Joslyn succeeded in her mission, though Mrs. Culver, as\nshe had predicted, did not approve of church parlours, and declined to\nlend her assistance.\n\nArmed with the proper authority, as well as with brooms and brushes,\nthe other lady teachers entered upon the work of renovation. The stock\nin hand having been looked over, it was found that the carpet, though\nsomewhat moth-eaten, could be made quite respectable; the curtains\nwould do very well. Then arose the question of chairs, tables, &c.\nOf course the first thing thought of was a subscription or a church\ncollection.\n\nNow Mabel knew her father would give liberally if called upon; but she\nremembered the opposition she had met with when she entered upon her\nwork, and thought it wise not to ask him, and was silent, waiting for\nLou to speak. Said that young lady\u2014\n\n\"I hate to go around and ask people for money.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Mrs. Gibson, \"what will you do? We can't do it all\nourselves.\"\n\n\"I know that,\" replied Lou; \"but there are different grades of beggars.\nI don't know but it may be more respectable to beg for money, but those\nwho go about asking for old clothes are more successful.\"\n\n\"I don't come at your idea yet,\" said Miss Fox. \"Do you propose that we\nbeg for old clothes, and sell them for money?\" she asked, laughing.\n\n\"Not exactly,\" was the reply, and Lou proceeded at once to unfold their\nplan, which being approved was adopted.\n\nIn pursuance of this plan, she and Mabel sallied out the next morning\nto make a round of calls. Their first visit was at the house of Mr.\nRiggs, a wealthy manufacturer.\n\n\"Mrs. Riggs,\" said Mabel, \"we want two chairs! We don't care for new\nones, but they must be such as you would not be ashamed to have in your\nsitting room. They need not be alike, but must be comfortable.\"\n\nIt was a strange request, made without explanation; but Mr. Riggs\nturned at once to his wife.\n\n\"What can you spare, Lucy?\"\n\nMrs. Riggs looked amused, and said\u2014\n\n\"I wish, Mabel, that you had asked for the whole of the library\nfurniture. I could spare that as well as not. I've been trying to coax\nHenry to get new for some time. Go in and make your selection.\"\n\n\"We could take the whole off your hands, and not encumber ourselves at\nall,\" responded Lou; \"but we'll leave part for the next beggar.\"\n\n\"Well, Lucy, let the girls have what they want, and you may order the\nnew furniture at once,\" and they proceeded to the library.\n\n\"What are those girls about!\" exclaimed Mrs. Riggs, as they took their\nleave, after the easy chair and a pair of brackets had been promised.\n\n\"I'm sure I can't guess,\" responded the gentleman. \"I should not think\nof trying to unravel any of Mabel's mysterious doings.\"\n\nThe next call was at Deacon Holt's.\n\n\"One chair here,\" said Mabel, as they waited upon the step. Making\nknown their errand, they were answered by a hearty laugh from the\ngood-natured deacon.\n\n\"Do tell! Are you girls going to set up house-keeping on your own hook?\"\n\n\"You've guessed pretty close, and we want all our friends to furnish\ntheir own chairs, so that they will always be welcome.\"\n\nTheir requests were everywhere the same. \"One or two chairs, new or\nold, easy and not shabby.\" Later in the day they all met at the new\nparlour to compare their lists of gifts, and found that enough had been\ndonated to furnish the room handsomely. Mabel had instructed Michael to\nappear with the express wagon at four o'clock, and he was sent off with\nthe list.\n\nTwo days later the room was ready for use. A dozen chairs, a sofa,\na small round table which Mr. Riggs had added, some pictures and\nbrackets, made a very pleasant and cosy parlour out of the old lumber\nroom. A few camp chairs were stored in a closet, to be brought as\noccasion required.\n\nThus it happened that Westville had a church parlour.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nA PRAYER ANSWERED.\n\n   \"For pain is not the end of pain.\"\n\nMR. TRAFTON kept a livery establishment which was extensively\npatronized by gay and fashionable people\u2014people to whom the Sabbath\nwas a day of pleasuring\u2014and it was through this Sabbath-breaking that\nHenry Trafton's trial of faith was to come. It so happened that about\nthe time of the summer school vacation they were short of help at the\nstables, and as Henry understood the management of horses remarkably\nwell for a boy of fourteen, he was drafted into service. He was fond\nof horses and rather liked the employment, until one Sabbath morning a\nparty wished to be driven to the lake, fifteen miles away.\n\n\"But, father,\" said Henry, \"I can't go to-day.\"\n\n\"I'd like to know why?\"\n\n\"Why, it's Sunday, and I must go to Sunday-school.\"\n\n\"Must, eh? Who says you must?\" asked his father, half angrily.\n\n\"'Well, I always do. I\u2014I never thought of driving out Sundays,\" said\nthe boy, in a troubled tone.\n\n\"Well, suppose you never did think of it? The time has come now to do\nit. Don't let's have any nonsense about it,\" was the impatient reply.\n\nHenry went to his mother with his trouble, who reasoned that it was\nnecessary work, that it was their business, that it was a proper and\nuseful business. He was not responsible for the way in which the party\nspent the day. He need not join in their frolics. And while they had\ntheir sail on the lake, he could rest in the grove and study the Bible\nlesson. It was very different from going for his own pleasure. If they\nkept horses to let, they must let them out on the Sabbath. If they let\nthem to young Reeves to go to his mission school at the Ridge, could\nthey refuse to drive young Golden and his friends to the lake? Should\nthey dictate to their customers the direction and object of their\ndrives?\n\nThis reasoning did not satisfy the boy. It was all a muddle. He could\nnot tell exactly what would be the right way to conduct the business,\nand, besides, obedience to his parents was one of his strong points.\nIf his father would not yield, he must. These were miserable Sabbaths.\nSometimes he ventured to remonstrate, then his father grew angry,\ndeclaring that he should not go to Sunday-school any more even when he\nwas at liberty.\n\n\"A pretty piece of business! Teaching a boy to set himself up for\nauthority!\"\n\n\"Father,\" said Henry, softly, \"It is the Bible that is up for\nauthority.\"\n\n\"Oh, you needn't quote Bible to me. I reckon I understand that quite\nas well as you do, or your saintly teacher. You have never been too\nnice to eat the bread or wear the clothes bought with the Sunday\nearnings of the horses and their drivers. Seems to me you are making\nextra fine distinctions. And, too, I wonder if your pious friends down\nthere know any difference between my money and other people's? They are\nglad enough to have me pay twenty-five dollars for a pew that I never\nsit in, and in return they put nonsensical notions into your head.\nI believe in religion, but I don't believe in that kind. The whole\nconcern is a humbug.\"\n\nNow Mr. Trafton did not think any such thing as he indicated in his\nlast remark. He did believe the very truths which had been put into\nHenry's heart through the teachings of the Sunday-school, though he had\nso long practically denied the gospel that it was only now and then\nthat his conscience stirred, and then he grew bold and defiant.\n\nHenry was very unhappy. He went to evening service, but hurried out to\navoid an interview with Miss Wynn. Reaching home he went directly to\nhis own room. He took his Bible, turned over the leaves, read a few\nverses here and there. There were plenty of promises, plenty of verses,\nthat had comforted him at other times; but it seemed that there was no\nword for him now, and he closed the book, saying, \"There's no promise\nto Sabbath-breakers, and that is just what I am. But father says it is\nnot wicked, that it is necessary. And Mr. Brown came for a carriage to\ngo to the springs this evening, and he is a member of our church. If\nhe could go to ride instead of going to evening service, is it wrong\nfor me to obey father and go off in the daytime? Dear me, I don't know\nanything about it. Anyway I can't stand it much longer. If God only\nwould hear me.\"\n\nAnd then the perplexed and troubled boy prayed, \"O God, my Father,\nhelp me. I want to do right, but I am so miserably weak and cowardly\nthat I am afraid to resist my father's will. O God, don't let me be\nso tempted. Take away my trouble. Deliver me out of this dark place.\nPlease to show my father how wrong it is, and do not let him ask me\nto drive out any more upon the Sabbath.\" This was the burden of his\nprayer, not \"Give me strength to follow the right,\" but \"Deliver me out\nof my trouble.\"\n\nWere the events of the week in answer to that prayer?\n\nWednesday morning Mr. Trafton said\u2014\n\n\"Henry, a gentleman, a stranger in town, wants to go out to Crandall's.\nYou may take the black horse and a light buggy and drive out for him.\"\n\n\"O father, that horse! Can't I have Lady Bess?\"\n\n\"No; Mrs. Jenks wants Bess to drive out by herself this afternoon,\nand you will not be back in time,\" replied Mr. Trafton, adding, \"You\nneedn't be afraid to drive the black; he has been very sober lately. I\nam not afraid to trust you with him.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mind. I had a little rather drive Bess, but it's no\nmatter.\"\n\nAs Henry was starting out his father said\u2014\n\n\"See here, Henry, it is the day of the picnic, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" responded Henry; \"but I don't care a great deal. It is a nice\ndrive out to Crandall's. I think I shall enjoy it.\"\n\n\"Yell, I guess you can have the day's earnings for your lesson fund.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's grand! Thank you.\"\n\nHenry Trafton cared very little for books; he hated study, and the\nweekly school reports showed a wretchedly low standing in his classes,\nbut his knowledge of some particular branches was remarkable; for\ninstance, natural history and physical geography. Some one once\nexpressed surprise at this, when he responded, \"I learned those things\nfrom pictures.\"\n\nThe walls of his room were covered with pictures; his table was strewed\nwith them; his trunk and drawers were full; they overflowed and spread\nthrough the house; he carried them in his pocket and between the\nleaves of his books; pictures of all sorts and sizes, bought with his\npocket-money, torn from magazines, cut from newspapers, and not a few\ndrawn by himself, some in pencil and some in coloured crayons. It was\nplain that he was a lover of art. Whether he had a talent for picture\nmaking remained to be seen. He was anxious to take some lessons of an\nartist who had a studio in town, and his father, who thought it the\nmerest nonsense and waste of time and money, had finally consented,\nprovided Henry should save his pocket-money to pay for the lessons.\n\nAs the now delighted boy harnessed the spirited horse, he said, \"Old\nfellow, the money you'll earn to-day will be a heavy lift for me. Five\ndollars! Whoa! You needn't prance about as if the ground wasn't good\nenough for you to step on. You're likely to get considerable of it into\nyour shiny coat before night. I s'pect we'll make the dust fly, won't\nwe, old fellow?\"\n\nIn the course of that afternoon, a man came to the house to say that\nthe horse which Henry had driven had just come panting to the stables\nwithout driver or carriage, and with part of the harness dragging, and\nthat one of the men had gone out on horseback to look for the castaways.\n\n\"And,\" said the man, \"I had just come from the depot with the carriage,\nand so I drove right up here, thinking maybe you'd want to follow. One\ncan't tell what may have happened.\"\n\nMr. Trafton only delayed to go to the kitchen and give a few hasty\norders. \"You need not tell Mrs. Trafton,\" he said. \"If anything serious\nhas occurred, I will come or send some one to tell her.\"\n\nJust as he was stepping into the carriage, Dr. Myers passed. \"Here,\ndoctor, we may need you. Just go along with us,\" was the abrupt\ninvitation, which was promptly accepted.\n\nIt was a sad and almost silent party that came back two hours later.\nVery slowly and carefully the driver guided his horses; very tenderly\nMr. Trafton supported his suffering boy, and very anxious was the\nexpression of every face. The stranger, who had escaped with a sprain\nor two and a few bruises, stated that the horse had been very restive\nall day, but that Henry had managed him remarkably well until, on their\nreturn, frightened at a peddler's cart, he sprang down a steep bank,\noverturning the buggy, landing the gentleman upon the opposite bank,\nwhile Henry, holding on stoutly, was dragged some distance over brush\nand stones. He was insensible when picked up, but he had revived a\nlittle before reaching home, though not able to speak.\n\nWhen Dr. Myers had made an examination of his patient's state, he said,\n\"Mr. Trafton, I should like to have you call in a more experienced\nsurgeon. I do not feel willing to take the responsibility of treating\nthe case without counsel. If you will call Dr. Maxwell, and if his\ndiagnosis agrees with mine, we shall all feel better satisfied.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" began the father, and stopped, unable to ask the question.\n\n\"I do not think,\" replied the doctor, \"that your son will die; but I\ntell you frankly that his injuries are very serious.\"\n\nAnd the poor man understood then, quite as well as he did a week later\nwhen Dr. Maxwell told him, that his boy could never walk again without\na crutch.\n\nWhen gently and tenderly Dr. Myers told Henry the sad truth, he only\nsaid, \"No matter, I don't think I shall mind so very much.\" Then seeing\nthe doctor's look of surprise, he added, \"I have just found out that\nGod has his own way of answering prayers, and when we don't ask for the\nright thing, or forget to say, 'Thy will be done,' it seems as though\nhe just took us at our word and gave us what we asked for, but it comes\na little differently from the way we expected.\"\n\n\"You don't mean that you think your lying here with your broken bones\nis an answer to prayer! I'm sure I wouldn't pray any more in that\ncase!\" The speaker was Aunt Harriet, a sister of Mr. Trafton, who had\ncome to help care for the sufferer. One might know by the tone in which\nshe spoke that she knew nothing of the power of prayer.\n\n\"O auntie,\" said Henry, \"I wouldn't stop praying, but just learn to\npray right. I can't tell all that God means by this, but it puts an end\nto a great trouble. I had been praying over it, but I never once asked\nfor help to follow the White Line\u2014\" (glancing at the framed motto which\nhung at the foot of the bed) \"straight through it all. I just begged\nGod would take away the trouble, and I rather think,\" he continued,\nsmiling faintly, \"that he has.\"\n\nDr. Myers interposed. \"I must not let you talk too much, my boy. I\nthink God has you in his keeping, and is leading you onward. This trial\nmay prove the greatest blessing of your life. Good morning, now. Rest\nall you can.\"\n\n\"Blessing,\" muttered Aunt Harriet, as she followed the doctor into\nthe next room for directions. \"I must say it looks like it, having to\nhobble through life on a stick, with no chance to do anything or be\nanything.\"\n\n\"I think, Miss Trafton,\" responded the doctor, \"that you will see it\nquite differently by and bye. It seems sad, but I am not sure that\nHenry's chances of doing and being something worthwhile are not better\nthan they were a fortnight since. I met him three or four weeks ago,\nand a more discouraged, dispirited appearing boy I don't often see. He\ndid not tell me the trouble he speaks of, but I think I guessed it.\nThere are worse troubles than broken bones.\"\n\nAt the gate the doctor met Mabel Wynn. \"You'd better not go in now,\" he\nsaid, \"the boy needs rest.\"\n\n\"How is he to-day?\" she asked.\n\n\"Improving,\" he replied. \"And, Mabel, he looks and talks like one\nwho has been lifted up to a higher plane than a good many of us have\nreached.\"\n\n\"Does he know?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes, I have just told him. He says it is all right. He has never\nuttered a complaining word from the beginning. Somehow I can't help\nthinking that he will grow to have a rarely beautiful Christian\ncharacter.\"\n\n\"And I have been so anxious about him!\" said Mabel. \"So faithless. I\nhave sometimes almost doubted if he really understood what it means\nto be a Christian. He always seemed interested and attentive; but I\nfeared he did not comprehend the truth. And of late he has often been\nabsent front the class, and seemed to avoid an explanation. I could not\nunderstand it at all. But,\" she added, after a pause, \"I suppose it was\nnot necessary that I should. God takes care of his own.\"\n\n\"Yes, he does,\" replied the doctor. \"But, Mabel, he sometimes makes use\nof us in doing it. Perhaps your anxieties and your fears for your pupil\nmade you more careful to explain the truth and make the way to Christ\nplain. Do you know, I think that motto a particularly happy thought, if\nthey only get the sentiment into their hearts?\"\n\nHere their ways parted, and Mabel went home with a lighter heart than\nshe had carried for many days, she had been so anxious for her pupil.\n\n\nIt was Saturday evening, a month after the accident. Mr. Trafton\nanswered a ring at the door, and found it was young Golden, who had\nbrought a basket of grapes for the invalid.\n\n\"Come in and present them yourself. Henry will be glad to see you,\"\nsaid Mr. Trafton.\n\n\"Thank you, I will.\"\n\nHenry was now able to take a half-sitting posture, propped up by\npillows, and was allowed to receive his friends. The three chatted\ncheerfully, even gaily, for some time. At length Mr. Golden turned to\nHenry.\n\n\"Well, I suppose you won't be ready to drive a party of us out to the\nlake to-morrow?\"\n\nThe boy's cheeks flushed a little as he replied, smiling\u2014\n\n\"Hardly.\"\n\nThe young man continued, turning now to Mr. Trafton\u2014\n\n\"I would like to have a carriage to-morrow. We want to start at six.\nCan you accommodate us?\"\n\n\"I am sorry,\" was the reply, \"to refuse, Mr. Golden; but we have lately\npassed a resolution down at the office to let no more horses upon the\nSabbath for secular business or pleasure excursions.\"\n\n\"Why, Mr. Trafton! Really\u2014I\u2014! You are not in earnest?\"\n\n\"In serious earnest. Our notice was put in the 'Standard' this morning,\nand also posted on the doors at the office and the stables,\" replied\nMr. Trafton.\n\n\"Really, this is very astonishing! What does it mean? Aren't you afraid\nyour business will fall off seriously?\" asked Mr. Golden.\n\n\"I presume it will. But you see I wanted to do something to please my\nboy here, and hit upon this thing.\"\n\n\"Too bad! I wish you could accommodate us this once. It will be a great\ndisappointment, as our party is all made up.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for your disappointment,\" was the reply. \"I meant to have\ngot the notice in the paper early in the week, but by an oversight of\nDalton's, it was omitted.\"\n\n\"Well, all I have to say,\" said Mr. Golden, half angrily, \"is that you\nwill lose by it. It is an unheard of proceeding. Mon who expect the\npublic to patronize them must try to please the public.\"\n\nAt this indirect threat Mr. Trafton smiled, and replied\u2014\n\n\"I am not obliged to continue this business. If it fails me, I can saw\nwood.\"\n\nAs the gentleman was the owner of a fine block of houses, which brought\nhim a good rental, the danger of his being reduced to wood-sawing for a\nlivelihood did not appear very imminent.\n\n\"Anyway,\" he continued, \"I have decided to try the experiment.\"\n\nAs he came back, after showing his visitor out, Henry exclaimed\u2014\n\n\"O father, I am so glad!\"\n\nA little while after, he said\u2014\n\n\"I am glad I wasn't hurt on Sunday.\"\n\n\"So am I! It was the thought of what I must have suffered had it\nhappened upon some of those Sabbaths when I sent you off so against\nyour conscience that first led me to think of giving up Sunday\nbusiness.\"\n\nAs he was bidding his father good night, Henry whispered\u2014\n\n\"Do you know, father, what beautiful promises there are in the Bible\nfor those who hallow the Sabbath?\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nFRAGMENTS OF TALK.\n\n   \"Step by step the journey's taken.\"\n\nSUNDAY-SCHOOL was over. Mr. Clarke had shaken hands with the last\nteacher; answered the last question; smiled upon this or that group as\nhe passed down the aisle; stopped a moment to speak a word of welcome\nto a new scholar; and then walked briskly up the street to overtake\nMiss Dare, who looked so tired to-day, as if she needed an encouraging\nword, a word which Mr. Clarke knew how to speak. The teachers had done\ntheir class-work for the day, whether well or ill, and gone their\nvarious ways; the sexton had closed the shutters and locked the door,\nbut still that group of boys lingered.\n\nA year had gone by since that Sabbath when Mabel Wynn was first sent to\nthem. Two more had been added to their number, Arthur Knapp and Willy\nLoring, but one was not there, and the boys grew sad whenever Henry's\nname was mentioned; for it was now well understood that he would never\nbe strong again. Arthur Knapp was a newcomer, and they had stopped to\ntalk a little and get acquainted. Something had gone wrong with Perry\nMorse, and he was pulling at Herbert Bradford's sleeve, saying\u2014\n\n\"Come, Bert; if you are going my way, come along.\"\n\n\"Don't be in a hurry; I want to talk a little while,\" replied Herbert.\n\nPerry started down the walk, halted half-way, and turned back.\n\n\"You are so awful particular,\" he said, \"I shouldn't think you'd think\nit quite the thing to stand there gossiping. Seems to me your white\nline has a good many curves in it. It leads you in a curious way.\"\n\n\"You are mistaken,\" responded Herbert. \"The line is straight, but the\ntrouble is, we boys get away from it\u2014I mean I do.\"\n\n\"I should think you'd better speak for yourself,\" was the half-surly\nremark of Perry.\n\n\"Miss Wynn talked solemn to-day, didn't she?\" broke in Willy.\n\n\"Yes, and you made a baby of yourself,\" said Perry, who seemed disposed\nto say hateful things.\n\nSensitive little Willy flushed and drew back, but Duncan McNair flashed\nout, saying\u2014\n\n\"I tell you what it is, Perry Morse, I'd rather be a baby than a stone;\nand another thing, I don't think it is very good manners to be gazing\nabout, or winking at somebody across the aisle, while Miss Wynn is\ntalking.\"\n\n\"Nobody asked for your opinion upon good manners,\" retorted Perry.\n\n\"Come,\" said Herbert. \"There will be a quarrel here, if we don't\nlook-out.\"\n\n\"All your fault,\" growled Perry. \"We should have been half-way home, if\nyou had not been so slow.\"\n\nHerbert gathered up his books as if about to start. A small box marked\n\"Willing Workers\" attracted Arthur's attention.\n\n\"Is that your class name?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ha, ha!\" laughed the provoking Perry. \"Better be called 'Willing\nIdlers.' Class collection last month, thirty-five cents! That's a good\none! I'd parade the name.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Lewie Amesbury. \"I was ashamed. Can't we do better next\nquarter? Let's pledge ourselves to do more.\"\n\n\"How much more?\"\n\n\"Oh, make it the biggest of all!\" said Perry.\n\n\"Suppose we calculate a little,\" said Lewie. \"There are six of us, and\ntwelve Sundays in quarter. Suppose we each give five cents a week\u2014five\ntimes twelve are sixty, and six times sixty are three hundred and\nsixty. Three dollars and sixty cents! That would do. Miss Wynn would\nmake it up to four dollars.\"\n\n\"Better make it up ourselves,\" said some one.\n\n\"Well, let's do it! All in favour of giving four dollars next quarter,\nsay I.\"\n\nThere were fire prompt \"I's.\"\n\n\"Arthur Knapp, why didn't you vote?\" was asked.\n\n\"Because I am not sure that I can give so much,\" was the timid reply.\n\n\"Well, some of us will have to give more to make it up. I have plenty\nof money. I can put in more as well as not,\" said Perry, grandly.\n\nThe boys were used to his boasting and did not mind.\n\nLewie had a new idea. \"I've heard,\" he said, \"that it is a good rule to\ngive one-tenth of a person's income. Who will do that\u2014give one-tenth of\nall we get to the fund?\"\n\n\"I will!\" exclaimed one and another, until all seemed to agree.\n\n\"Well, here is the beginning,\" and Lewie turned out his pockets,\ncounting his money rapidly. \"Sixty-seven cents! I won't cheat the\nmissionaries out of half a cent\u2014here are seven cents.\" Duncan,\nfollowing his example, handed over eleven cents to the treasurer. The\nrest had empty pockets, though Perry said he had five dollars at home.\n\n\"All right,\" said Duncan. \"Hand over your fifty cents to-morrow\nmorning. Jolly! Won't it count up?\"\n\n\"I reckon you needn't count up quite so fast; I guess I see myself\ngiving fifty cents to your eleven! I guess!\"\n\n\"But that is according to the pledge.\"\n\n\"I don't care. I sha'n't do it. There goes Uncle John. I'll go home\nwith him and get my dinner. Bert, you can talk until night, if you want\nto!\"\n\n\"What is the matter with Perry to-day?\" asked Lewie Amesbury.\n\n\"I don't see as anything unusual is the matter,\" responded Duncan. \"I\nbelieve he likes to be as hateful as possible.\"\n\n\"Thinketh no evil,\" said Herbert softly.\n\n\"Well\u2014I know, but I can't help it, he does provoke me so.\"\n\n\"Is not easily provoked,\" continued the same soft voice.\n\n\"Dear me!\" said Duncan. \"If you saw as much of him as I do, you'd\nget provoked. He never seems to care for anybody but himself, and\ndon't mind hurting other folk's feelings one bit. A body can't stand\neverything.\"\n\n\"Beareth all things . . . Suffereth long.\"\n\n\"O Bert, you are determined to throw that lesson at me in pieces. Well,\nI own I haven't much of that precious article so much talked about\nto-day. I know people who do deal largely in it, get on a great deal\nbetter; somehow it smooths off a great many sharp edges. But when I can\nsee as plain as day that a person means to be hateful (I am not talking\nabout Perry Morse now), or says things that aren't true, or is tricky\nand dishonest, how am I going to think no evil?\"\n\n\"I think Miss Wynn explained that a great deal better than I can,\"\nsaid Herbert. \"You know she said we ought to have our hearts so full\nof love that we would be ready to think the very best of everybody; to\nput the best instead of the worst construction upon their acts, and\nremember that they may have a true motive in many things that seem to\nus altogether wrong.\"\n\n\"It was a beautiful lesson,\" said Willy Loring. \"It made me feel as if\nI should never say or think evil of anybody again.\"\n\n\"Oh, you dear little innocent!\" exclaimed Duncan. \"It isn't necessary\nfor you to turn over a new leaf. I'd like to hear you burst out with\nsomething dreadful about somebody just for once. Do you know, little\none, that you are altogether too good now? Don't, I beg of you, go to\ngetting any better. We shall all suffocate with goodness before long.\nBut since Perry spoke of dinner I feel my need; so come on, Bert, I'll\ngo around your way.\"\n\nThese two started off, leaving the others to go their ways, which they\ndid at once.\n\nNot long before this, the class had been talking of \"opportunities,\"\nand now as they walked up the street, Herbert said to himself, \"I\nwonder if this is my opportunity.\"\n\nDuncan always seemed so careless. Could he say anything that would make\nhim think? If Miss Wynn had failed, should he try? At length he said,\nnot so much because he meant to use his opportunity as by way of saying\nsomething\u2014\n\n\"Dunny, did you ever notice that, no matter what the lesson is about,\nMiss Wynn always brings the talk around to Christ?\"\n\n\"Why, no. I never thought about it particularly,\" replied Duncan. \"The\nfact is, I don't always pay attention.\"\n\n\"And you'll own that after the lecture you gave Perry,\" said Herbert.\n\n\"Oh, I just said that to give him a chance to explode. I know he was\ndying for an excuse. I don't pretend to do better myself,\" replied\nDuncan. \"Hang it!\" he continued. \"I must have fun.\"\n\n\"But there are things that are better than fun,\" remarked Herbert.\n\n\"Yes, I know. Dinners, for instance!\"\n\n\"Dear me,\" thought his friend, \"he won't be serious.\" But he began\nagain, this time coming to the point at once.\n\n\"Say, Danny, won't you be in earnest about following Christ?\"\n\n\"Couldn't think of it at present,\" was the light reply. \"I've got too\nmany things on hand just now. Besides, it must be hard work. Christ was\nall the time going about preaching and helping folks. Everybody can't\ndo that\u2014somebody must stay at home; and if I should set out in earnest,\nI might be bothered to know whether I belonged to the preachers or the\nstay-at-home-ers.\"\n\n\"O Duncan! But don't you remember what Mr. Earle said in his sermon the\nother Sunday, that we could preach Christ in our homes sometimes to\nmore purpose than we could in the pulpit?\"\n\n\"I reckon my father wouldn't thank me to turn his house into a\npreaching chapel,\" said Duncan, laughing.\n\n\"But you know what he meant,\" replied Herbert. \"Just to let our light\nshine.\"\n\n\"Well, you just go ahead with your lantern and light me along.\"\n\nHerbert could not say another word, his heart was full, and presently\nDuncan said\u2014\n\n\"Don't bother yourself, Bertie. Maybe some day I shall think as you do;\nbut I really can't sober down just yet. Good-bye;\" and he turned in at\nhis father's gate.\n\nAs Herbert walked on alone, he said softly, \"Dear Jesus, I wanted to\ndo something for thee. I tried, but I failed. But I want Duncan to be\nthy disciple, and wilt thou send some one to say just the right word?\nHe leads the boys at school, and if he were only a Christian, he could\ndo so much to help others along. Don't let him slip away from the right\npath. Dear Saviour, hear my prayer for my friend.\"\n\n\nMeantime Mabel and her friend Lou Joslyn walked home together. Lou\ntaught a class of little girls\u2014ten of them. Among them were Julia\nBradford and Duncan McNair's sister Jenny. While the boys thought\nMiss Wynn perfection, the girls were equally certain that Miss Joslyn\nwas the very best teacher in the world, and occasionally an excited\ndiscussion took place concerning this matter, ending of course, as such\ndiscussions generally do, each party sticking to their point. Both\nwere earnest, faithful teachers, and they often took counsel together,\ncomparing their experience, and laying out plans for further effort.\n\nTo-day Mabel was perplexed.\n\n\"I don't like,\" she said \"the way our missionary collections are\nmanaged. I don't mean that the money is not taken care of and sent\nwhere it does good; but the trouble is, the scholars have no interest\nin the matter. Our class collection is almost nothing, and while I am\nmortified, I can't blame the boys, for after the quarterly report of\nthe amount collected, they never hear anything more about it. Willy\nLoring asked me to-day where the money went to.\"\n\n\"That is just what my little girls are always asking,\" said Lou. \"And\nyou know it goes in with the church collection, and is divided up among\nthe half dozen boards that we are supposed to be interested in; and\nwhere poor little Jenny's pennies finally find their destined work is\nmore than I can tell. If I should grow pathetic over suffering Persia,\nor try to awaken an interest in these mission schools in Turkey, or\ntell them about the young Zulu that our church has undertaken to\neducate, Julia Bradford would be sure to ask, 'Are you certain that our\nmoney goes there?'\"\n\n\"That is it,\" replied Mabel. \"They want to know exactly what is done\nwith it; and I wish we could have a different arrangement.\"\n\n\"I wish so too,\" responded Lou. \"I did speak to Mrs. Culver about it a\nwhile ago, and she thought that it was best as it is; that the children\nought to be trained to give from principle; that they understood\nperfectly well that it was given for the support of missionaries among\nthe heathen, and that ought to satisfy them.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mabel, \"that may satisfy Mrs. Culver's young ladies, but\nit does not satisfy my boys.\"\n\n\"Nor my girls; and I tell you, Mabel, we will have something done about\nit.\"\n\n\"We will try anyway,\" returned Miss Wynn. \"I'm going to see Dr. Myers\nabout it.\"\n\n\"I suppose you think it will go, if he takes hold of it,\" laughed Lou.\n\n\"Things generally do,\" was the quiet reply.\n\nThey walked on in silence for a few moments; then Lou spoke in a soft\ntone\u2014\n\n\"Do you know, Mabel, I think that several of my little girls have\nlearned the sweet lesson of trust in Jesus? I have known for a long\ntime that Julia Bradford sang 'Jesus loves me' as if it had a meaning\nfor her; and now there are three more who can join her. You don't know\nhow glad I am.\"\n\n\"Yes, I do. I remember how I felt when Henry and Herbert made the\ndecision,\" replied Mabel. \"But why should the work stop there? Do you\nknow,\" she continued, \"I sometimes think that perhaps that motto was a\nmistake. I am afraid that some of the boys have fallen into the error\nof supposing that an outward observance of the rules and precepts which\nChrist laid down is sufficient. In their outward lives, they follow\nclosely, but so far as I can judge, their hearts have not been opened\nto the Saviour. I try to make them understand how worthless is such\nservice; but so far God seems to withhold his blessing. Pray for us,\nLou.\"\n\n\n\"But you are aware, no doubt, that your plan will meet with opposition?\nMrs. Culver, for one, will object to a change,\" said Dr. Myers the\nnext afternoon, when Mabel had broached the subject of a Sunday-school\nmissionary society.\n\n\"I know, but it seems as though the matter was of sufficient importance\nto warrant a moderate amount of pushing. It is very essential that\nour pupils be taught the right way of giving, and as the matter is at\npresent conducted it is very difficult to interest them in the subject,\nespecially the younger ones.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" replied the doctor. \"Mr. Clarke has spoken of it, and I\nthink we had better make a move. We will talk it over a little quietly,\nas we meet the other teachers, and see what can be done at the next\nmeeting.\"\n\n\"Another thing,\" said Miss Wynn. \"I am troubled about Perry Morse.\nHe has grown very careless and reckless in manner, and I fear I am\nlosing what little hold I have had upon him. Perhaps you may have an\nopportunity to influence and help him, when he would be quite beyond my\nreach. You will look-out for him?\"\n\n\"Certainly, I will. I have noticed something of that recklessness.\nPerry has good capabilities, but I think his home-training is in fault.\nYou have a new scholar in your class?\"\n\n\"Yes, Arthur Knapp. Do you know anything of the family?\"\n\n\"Not much,\" replied the doctor. \"I was called there professionally.\nThey seem to be quite poor. The father is employed in Miller's shop. He\ninquired about our schools, and said, as Arthur must go to a trade in\nthe spring, he wanted to send him to a good school through the winter.\"\n\n\"Do they attend church?\" asked Mabel.\n\n\"I conclude that they have not been church-going people. I invited them\nto our church, and Mr. Knapp was out last evening.\"\n\n\"I must call there at once,\" and taking the address from her friend,\nMabel proceeded to carry out the intention.\n\nMrs. Knapp was a pale little woman, with a fretful and careworn\nexpression. She was prepared to receive her visitor with pleasure,\nfor Arthur had found things very much to his liking the previous day.\nSomeway\u2014neither of them knew how\u2014Mabel walked right into the woman's\nheart, and soon found herself listening to the story of her trials, not\nthe least of which seemed to be the boy Arthur.\n\n\"He was always a hard child to manage,\" said the mother. \"He has a\nviolent temper, and was always getting into trouble at school. If the\nboys provoked him, he would fly at them in a rage, and would just as\nquick fight a big boy as one of his own size; so he was always coming\nhome with a bruised head and torn clothes, until we took him from\nschool.\"\n\n\"I thought he appeared like a very pleasant boy,\" said Mabel.\n\n\"So he is, only when he is angry. If he could only control his temper!\nSometimes I think perhaps we have not managed right. His father is very\nstrict, and never overlooks any little fault in the children.\"\n\nAt this point, there came from the next room the sound of angry voices,\nand Mrs. Knapp stepped out to quell the disturbance.\n\n\"What is this all about?\"\n\n\"Willy has put my dolly in a pail of water.\"\n\n\"Well! She got my pictures first, and made pencil marks on 'em.\"\n\n\"Helen!\" said the mother. \"Pick up those cards and give them to Willy.\"\n\n\"I sha'n't! Do it yourself!\"\n\n\"No more of that! Obey me instantly, or I'll punish you,\" threatened\nMrs. Knapp. \"And, Willy, you may go out and fill the wood-box.\"\n\n\"I ain't ageing to fill the old wood-box. You can wait until Arthur\ncomes,\" was the dutiful reply.\n\nMabel could not avoid hearing this colloquy, and even the mother's deep\nsigh reached her ear.\n\n\"The children have been out of school so long,\" said Mrs. Knapp, on\nre-entering the room, \"that they have grown quite unmanageable. I must\nsend them soon.\"\n\n\"I remember,\" said Mabel, smiling, \"that I always got into mischief\nwhen I had nothing to do. Mother was always contriving things for me to\ndo.\"\n\n\"But I haven't time for that,\" returned the mother, quickly. \"There are\nso many things that must be done; so much that must be contrived.\"\n\nMabel was not prepared to solve the problem that vexes the lives of\nso many mothers\u2014how to meet all the demands made upon them; or, if\nthis is not possible, how to decide what shall be crowded out\u2014so she\nsaid nothing, but soon took leave, pitying the mother and pitying the\nchildren, and wondering if there was any way to help them.\n\nThe next call was upon the Lorings. Willy was the pet and plaything of\na group of grown-up brothers and sisters. These belonged to what Mrs.\nWynn denominated \"our circle,\" and were pleasant, agreeable people,\nwithout apparent thought of anything beyond the good things of this\nlife.\n\n\"So you've coaxed Willie into your Sunday-school class!\" said Louise,\nthe gayest and prettiest of the group. \"He is too good to live already.\"\n\n\"Well, we can't spare him just yet,\" said her sister Henrietta; \"so\ndon't go to making a saint of him. But, really, Mabel, aren't you a\nlittle fanatical upon that subject?\"\n\n\"Hardly that,\" said Mabel; \"though I think it a very important subject,\nand I am, perhaps, more interested in the work than in anything else in\nthe world.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" laughed Louise. And, arching her eyebrows, she asked, \"Isn't\nDr. Myers still an inhabitant of this world?\"\n\n\"Hush, Louise,\" interposed Henrietta. \"Such allusions are not becoming.\"\n\n\"O, Mabel don't mind. But, seriously, have you declined Mrs. Granger's\ninvitation because you would not leave your Sunday-school class?\"\n\n\"That was my principal reason,\" replied Mabel.\n\n\"I am so sorry!\" replied her friend. \"It would be so pleasant to be in\nthe city together. I shall spend the most of the winter with Cousin\nFanny. Why, Mabel, think how nice it would be! Mrs. Granger moves in\nthe highest circles!\"\n\n\"I know\u2014socially speaking\u2014but\u2014\" Mabel hesitated. She felt, as she\noften did when talking with her mother, that her friends would not\nunderstand her should she explain all her motives. However, she went\non after a moment's pause, \"The atmosphere of Aunt Granger's home is\nnot calculated to promote Christian growth. If I was called to go\nthere, I should expect supplies of grace sufficient to withstand the\nmany temptations; but if I ran away from my work here, for the sake of\nworldly pleasure, I should not look for God's blessing.\"\n\n\"Dear me! What notions you do have. If you are so anxious for work, as\nyou call it, I suppose there is plenty in the city,\" said Louise almost\npettishly.\n\n\"Very likely; but I might not get a chance at it; and don't you\nremember, Louise, that I always had a way of holding on to things?\"\n\n\"Yes, I know; and I suppose there's no use in saying any more about it.\"\n\nIt must not be supposed that it cost Mabel Wynn nothing to decline her\naunt's flattering invitation to spend six months in her beautiful home.\nShe was fond of society, and the prospect of a whole winter in the city\nwas very delightful; but, as she said, \"she could not see her way clear\nto accept;\" and I do not think she ever regretted her sacrifice.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nHERBERT'S TRIAL.\n\n   \"Stand by your conscience, your honour, your faith.\"\n\nIT was a gala day in Westville. The people had gathered in crowds to\nattend the county fair. From \"up the creek\" and down the valley, from\nover the ridge and far up the mountain, from every nook and corner for\nmiles around, they came in waggon-loads and car-loads. Fathers and\nmothers with troops of children came in family carry-alls; young men\nand maidens in carriages \"just big enough for two,\" all out for a day's\npleasuring.\n\nTo some of them, it was the one holiday of the year, to which they had\nlooked forward for months. Many had brought the savings of the summer\nto spend in necessities or finery. Westville was full to overflowing.\nThe fair grounds were full, the streets were full, the hotels and\nstores were full.\n\nThe speaker of the day announced to the few of the great crowd who\ncould catch the words of wisdom which he poured out for a whole hour,\nthat the \"show was a success.\" And no doubt it was. Surely all the\nrequisites were there\u2014the products of farm and dairy, of orchard and\ngarden, big squashes and overgrown pumpkins, golden butter and creamy\ncheese, luscious fruits and rare flowers, tidies and bed-quilts, wax\nfruit and feather flowers, the beautiful and the grotesque, marvels\nof skill, ingenuity, and patience. All trades and professions were\nrepresented; all grades of animals, from the high-bred pride of the\ndairy to the pet bantam chickens.\n\nThe balloon went up and out of sight of the wondering and admiring\ncrowd. The \"side shows,\" the steel-pen man, and the patent-rights\nman, and the ginger-bread and pop-corn boys, had each their share of\npatronage, and the merchants shared largely in the benefits of the\noccasion. Every clerk was at his post, with eyes and ears for half a\ndozen customers at once.\n\nA showily and not very tastefully dressed girl stood at one of the\ncounters in Mr. Wynn's store, looking over a box of nets for the hair.\n\n\"Are these the newest fashion?\" she asked, holding up one of gay\nchenille, studded with glittering white beads.\n\nHerbert Bradford was behind the counter, and he answered, frankly\u2014\n\n\"No; these are not worn now. Very plain ones like this are the most\nstylish,\" and he held up a bit of fine netting that you might pack into\na thimble. \"But,\" he added, \"we sell those very cheap if you like them.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" quickly rejoined the girl. \"If they are out of fashion, I am\nsure I don't want one, though the red one is powerful pretty,\" and she\nlooked at it longingly; \"but I want all my things right in the fashion.\"\n\nThen she asked for other goods, and Herbert showed her the best styles,\nas he would, had it been Miss Mabel herself. Mr. Wynn was at the next\ncounter, and watched the proceedings with disapproving glances. Finally\ndress silks were called for, and Herbert was about to open a drawer of\nnew goods, when Mr. Wynn interfered.\n\n\"Excuse me, Herbert, but will you run up to the fourth story and tell\nJenks to hasten, for customers are waiting? I will take your place\nwhile you are gone.\"\n\nHerbert returned in time to hear his employer assuring the girl that\nthe gay plaid silk which he had brought up from the depths of a drawer\nof old goods was \"one of the most stylish patterns, very desirable, his\nown daughter had a dress nearly like it,\" (he should have added, \"ten\nyears ago\"), \"just the colours she ought to wear,\" and more of the same\nsort.\n\nHerbert was astonished at what he heard, and more so when, after the\ncustomer had left with her gay dress-pattern, Mr. Wynn turned to him\nand said\u2014\n\n\"Now, Herbert, when a customer like that comes in, it is the time to\nget off old goods. Those people that come from up the mountain know\nnothing about the styles, and we always depend upon selling our old\nstock out to that class of customers. That chenille net would have\npleased the girl better and wore longer than the one she bought, and\nshe would have taken it, if you had not been silly enough to tell her\nnobody wore them now.\"\n\n\"But she asked me if they were fashionable,\" said Herbert.\n\n\"Of course she did,\" returned Mr. Wynn. \"They always ask such\nquestions, and part of your business is to know how to answer them. We\nalways have a great many of that class here upon holidays, and if you\nare shrewd, you may make large sales of goods desirable to be disposed\nof, and which will satisfy them quite as well as goods that are more\nconstantly called for. You need not look so grave about it. Don't you\nsee that we can sell these goods for less money, and often suit their\ntastes far better. And if they are satisfied, what is there wrong about\nit?\"\n\nHerbert made no reply, but the thought in his mind was, \"I can't do it.\nI can't say a thing is so when it isn't.\"\n\nA few days later, a similar circumstance occurred. Mr. Wynn was much\ndispleased, and said, \"I cannot allow this. If I have occasion to speak\nof the matter again, I shall feel obliged to ask your father to take\nyou away.\"\n\nHerbert had thought over the subject and prayed over it, and made his\ndecision. \"Mr. Wynn,\" he said, \"I am sorry to displease you, but I\nthink the only right way for me to do is to speak the truth, and I must\ndo it, if I say anything.\"\n\nMr. Wynn was angry, but he was always calm and dignified; he said,\nquietly, \"Very well; call things by whatever name you please. Your\nfather placed you here to learn the business, but if you already know\nso much more than I do about the proper mode of conducting it, there is\nno necessity of your remaining here any longer. You are free to go at\nonce. I will see your father this evening.\"\n\nPoor Herbert! Discharged! Disgraced! He had not anticipated quite that.\nIn resolving to do right, he had expected that God would stand by him\nand reward him for his faithfulness to the truth. He had asked God\nto show him the right way and to keep him from all evil as he walked\ntherein. He had looked for deliverance in the hour of trial. Had God\nfailed to hear?\n\nHe, too, had yet to learn something of God's ways of answering prayer.\nMr. Bradford's office was two or three doors down the street from the\nstore, and Herbert went at once to his father with his story, telling\nit in a straightforward style, without a word of exaggeration or blame.\n\"Father, did I do right?\" he asked.\n\nMr. Bradford hesitated. He was called an honest man; he called himself\na Christian, and though less worldly-minded than Mr. Wynn, he had not\nHerbert's ardent love of truth, but he could not look in his boy's\nface and say that he preferred to have him retain his position at\nthe expense of falsehood and trickery. When he spoke, it was with an\nembarrassed laugh.\n\n\"Well, Herbert, your idea about it is well enough, I suppose, but if\nI were a poor man, and you were depending upon your position for your\nbread, I should say you were rather over-nice. You will have trouble to\nfind another place after being turned away from the largest store in\ntown.\"\n\n\"I don't know as I want another place; I don't care about learning the\nbusiness, if lying belongs to it,\" said Herbert, with some excitement.\n\n\"Tut! Tut! Boy, you mustn't be squeamish. There is considerable in\nthe art of putting things.\" After a pause, he continued, \"You know,\nHerbert, that I am not anxious about the matter. It was your own\nchoice; I should much prefer to have you come into the office here.\"\n\nAs for Mr. Wynn, he was more disturbed by the event than he cared\nto own. He had been pleased with Herbert in most respects, and had\nresolved upon promoting him as fast as practicable, with a view to\ngiving him a permanent position in the store.\n\n\"Queer, isn't it, that a fellow would spoil his prospects by such a bit\nof nonsense?\" he said that day at dinner time. \"I suspect, Mabel, it is\nsome of your work.\"\n\n\"What, father?\"\n\n\"Why, that boy Herbert thinks he knows all about the principles of\nbusiness, and in carrying out his theories has forfeited his place,\nthat is all.\"\n\n\"O father!\" said Mabel, \"Have you discharged him?\"\n\n\"Well, yes. I tell you, Mabel, this mixing all sorts of fanciful ideas\nup with the matter of earning one's bread, won't answer. Herbert will\nfind that success don't run in the same track with his sentimental\nreligious notions. Business is one thing and religion is another.\"\n\n\"I confess that such seems to be the prevalent opinion,\" said Mabel,\n\"but I\u2014well, I like to see people carry their religion with them, not\nlay it upon the shelf. Our faith is given us to help over hard places,\nand if one does not keep it about him continually, it is pretty sure to\nbe out of call when most needed. As for Herbert, if I have taught him\nthis, I have not quite failed in my work.\"\n\n\"I supposed you were at the bottom of it, but I did not expect you to\nown it quite so readily,\" replied Mr. Wynn, with unusual warmth. \"I\ndon't think I shall be in a hurry to take another boy from your class.\"\n\n\"Well, father,\" responded Mabel, \"all I can say is, that I have simply\ntried to show them what the life and teachings of Christ mean; and if\nHerbert has found anything required of him that conflicts with his\nunderstanding of the spirit of the gospels, you cannot wonder that he\nshould be unwilling to conform to the requirements of the business.\"\n\n\"All a notion! All a notion! No need of being so strict. Besides, these\npeople who are so over-nice, sometimes find that they have smutted\ntheir fingers in spite of their carefulness. And I can tell you that\nMaster Herbert will find that such places are not vacant every day. He\nwill have to drop some of his whims before he gets very high up in the\nworld.\"\n\nMabel said softly,\u2014\n\n   \"'His delight is in the law of the Lord; and whatsoever he doeth\nshall prosper.'\"\n\n\"Yes, yes! You quote Bible, but I quote facts,\" said Mr. Wynn.\n\n\"And don't you think that the facts will prove the Bible true.\"\n\n\"Of course the Bible is true, child, but not to be taken literally. Now\nlook at old Jackson over there at the distillery. He hasn't much regard\nfor Bible rules. I suspect that your nice distinctions between right\nand wrong would be quite too fine for his dull vision; but it looks\nvery much as though the work of his hands was prospered; now don't it,\nMabel?\"\n\n\"That depends on what you call prosperity,\" replied Mabel. \"I don't\nsuppose that good Mr. Frink, old and poor as he is, would change\nplaces with Mr. Jackson. It was only the other day that, speaking of\nthe abundance of work that had come in, he said, 'The Lord Lath dealt\nbountifully with me, Miss Mabel.' But I suppose that if things ended\nwith this world, we might sometimes conclude that the wicked had the\nbest of it. But 'riches profit not in the day of wrath.'\n\n\"Things don't come out quite straight,\" she continued; \"but I can't\nhelp thinking that the Lord does repay, even in this life, those who\ndelight to do him honour.\"\n\n\"Well, my dear, your theories are all very fine; but if you were a\nbusiness man, you would find that a little coarse, rugged common sense\nmixes in very well in the concerns of this life.\"\n\n\"And is this life all?\" asked Mabel.\n\nMr. Wynn had left the table, and at the last question, he said, with a\nforced laugh, something about a \"woman's last word,\" and bowed himself\nout politely as ever; but, if the truth was told, he was slightly\ndissatisfied with himself, with Mabel, with the world generally, and\nespecially with boys.\n\nI suspect that he wished with all his heart that Herbert was back\nagain in his place; for of course, he knew that the boy who braved his\ndispleasure for the sake of the right as he saw it (that was the way\nMr. Wynn put it) would make a trusty clerk. Besides, they were short\nof help, and now he must look-out for a new boy. What a bother these\nstrict notions were! And what a nuisance such a tender conscience must\nbe!\n\nFor his own part, Mr. Wynn was usually very well satisfied with his\nreligion. It served him well as to reputation, it answered for Sundays,\nand, no doubt, would do for a dying day. He was willing to take the\nbenefits of it; but as for personal work for the Master\u2014why, that was\nfor the ministers and deacons and women; only he couldn't see that\nthere was any need of his daughter's enlisting in the cause.\n\nI said he was willing to take the benefits. Of real personal religious\nexperience, he knew very little. Once\u2014a long time ago\u2014he lived for a\nfew months a different life\u2014a life that now seemed to him like a dream.\nThe spirit of worldliness had soon taken possession of his heart, and,\ngradually smothering the Christian graces that were springing up, now\nreigned supreme.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nTHE BOYS' MEETING.\n\n   \"His grace descends; and, as of old,\n      He walks with men apart,\n    Keeping the promise, as foretold,\n      With all the pure in heart.\"\n\nTHE experiment of a church parlour had proved a success. Both old and\nyoung found it a pleasant place for all sorts of church gatherings.\nThe occasional teachers' meeting having been fully attended, and the\ndiscussions more free when held in the cosy, home-like little room, Mr.\nClarke was encouraged to make regular appointments, and the teachers\nnow met weekly for study and conference; and it could no longer be said\nthat the talking was all done by two or three.\n\nHere, too, teachers could meet their classes; and it was for this\nthat Mabel Wynn came down to the church one evening about the time of\nHerbert Bradford's trouble at the store. She sat at the cabinet organ\nwhich had been added to the furnishings of the room, and around her\nwere clustered the seven boys. It was not often that one was absent\nfrom this meeting\u2014their own meeting. Mabel had long been the church\norganist, and of late, it was her custom to come down half an hour\nbefore the time of the Saturday evening rehearsal to meet any or all of\nher class.\n\nIt was an informal gathering. The boys dropped in, sometimes singly,\nsometimes by twos and threes, sometimes one came and went before the\nothers appeared. It was not exactly a prayer-meeting, though there were\nprayers; nor exactly a conference-meeting, though many conferences were\nheld. It was just the \"boys' meeting.\" They talked of their trials (for\nboys do have trials), their perplexities, their wants, their failures\nand their triumphs, and they received\u2014always sympathy, often help and\ncounsel.\n\nDoubtless good Mrs. Culver would have sighed over the worldliness of\nsome of their talk, for Mabel was trying to teach these young friends\nof hers to put Christ into everything, to let his teachings, his words\nand his example get such a hold upon their young hearts, that in all\ntheir work and in all their play, the spirit of the gospel should be\nthe controlling power.\n\nTonight they were all there, and as their leader played the\naccompaniment, they sang the hymn\u2014\n\n   \"Stand up! Stand up for Jesus!\"\n\nThen, while every head was bowed, Mabel uttered low and reverent words\u2014\n\n   \"Jesus, dear friend, we have come here to talk with Thee and with\neach other. Some of us have reached the hard places, and we need help\nand counsel. Some of us have been sorely tried, and we need help to go\nforward. Let our hearts be strengthened, our faltering steps steadied\nand upheld, and our weak faith increased. Let us realize that Thou art\nwith us, leading our thoughts and inspiring our words. We do need Thy\nhelp, dear Christ. Answer us by Thy spirit and through Thy word. Give\nunto each of us as we are in need. Amen.\"\n\n\"Since we were here last week\u2014\" she said, taking Deacon Griffin's\narm chair, while the boys took their favourite or characteristic\npositions\u2014Perry Morse walked over to the further side of the room and\nestablished himself in the handsome easy chair which was a part of Mr.\nRiggs's gift; Willy Loring nestled upon a cushion at Mabel's feet;\nHerbert Bradford stood leaning against the organ, as he had done while\nthey sang, but now he shaded his face with his hand and turned a little\naway from facing the boy across the room in the easy chair; the other\nboys formed a group around a small table\u2014\n\n\"Since we met last week,\" Mabel was saying, \"one of us has met a sharp\ntrial, a temptation has been bravely met and conquered, a pleasant\nhope, perhaps a darling ambition, has been quietly set aside for the\nsake of right. You all know of the matter to which I refer; but, as I\nunderstand that there are several versions of the affair afloat, to set\nthe matter right with you all, I will just say that Herbert lost his\nplace simply because he refused to comply with one of the requirements\nwhich conflicted with the teachings of the gospel. There was no\nquarrel, no misunderstanding, just a disagreement as to the right and\nwrong of an established method of doing business. We must honour our\nfriend for standing up firmly for the truth, and thank God that he gave\nhim strength to live up to his convictions.\"\n\nTurning to Herbert, \"I have wanted to tell you that you have had my\nsympathy and my prayers. I know something of the cost of your course,\nof your disappointment and mortification. It has been a sore trial;\nbut, Herbert, remember that Christ knows all about it, and he will not\nforget.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Herbert. \"It was your making things so plain that led\nme to take the stand I did. As you have just said, I refused to do what\nwas required of me because I thought it was not right, not according\nto what Christ taught. Was that standing up for Jesus? We have sung\nthat hymn a great many times, and I never thought much about it until\ntonight; now it seems as if I knew a little about what it means.\n\n\"But,\" he continued, after a moment's hesitation, \"I don't want any\nof you to be deceived. I don't think I did meet the temptation very\nbravely. I am almost afraid I should not have had courage to do as I\ndid, if I had thought it would turn out so. I prayed about it, and\ntold God all my trouble; and while I promised to obey him, I asked\nto be shielded from the consequences, and I expected that Mr. Wynn\nwould yield the point. I was quite astonished when I found that I was\ndischarged. I thought God had forsaken me. I don't think so now. I\nbelieve he has only taken his own way to answer me, and that some time,\nI shall find out what it all means.\"\n\n\"It is a lesson we all have to learn,\" said Mabel, \"this\u2014that God does\nnot always give us just what we ask for, because he sees a better way.\nSometimes we wait long enough for the light that shows us what it all\nmeans. We are dull at learning these lessons of discipline, unless the\nSpirit enlightens us. But it may be that some of the whys are not meant\nfor us to know until our trial is over. What is it, Willy?\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" replied the boy, whose questioning face Mabel had\nobserved. \"What did Herbert mean about standing up for Jesus? I thought\nthat meant to speak in prayer-meeting, join the church, or maybe take\nhis side when anybody spoke against him; but I don't see as there was\nanything said about Jesus or religion.\"\n\n\"Suppose, Willy, that your teacher, Miss Payne, gives out certain rules\nand counsels to guide her pupils during study and play hours, and\nsuppose that Lewie here says to himself, 'No matter about the rules;\nthey don't apply over on this side the fence, anyway. I shan't mind\nanything about them.' But you think, 'I am sure she meant us to do so\nand so, and I am going to carry it out;' and you both act according to\nyour ideas and resolutions; neither of you say a word about Miss Payne,\nbut are you not standing up for her honour and authority when you make\nher rule your guide?\"\n\n\"I see,\" exclaimed Willy. \"It is the principle, the truth.\"\n\n\"'I am the way, the truth,'\" quoted Lewie.\n\n\"But, Miss Wynn\u2014\" began Willy, and stopping suddenly, his cheeks\nreddened.\n\n\"Well, what is it?\"\n\n\"Will you please excuse me if I say something?\"\n\n\"Why, that is just what we want you to do, dear boy,\" said Mabel kindly.\n\n\"I know; but what I want to say don't sound quite respectful\u2014that is, I\nam afraid it won't.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" interrupted Mabel, smiling, \"and I will excuse it. Go\non.\"\n\n\"Well, you know the commandment says, 'Honour thy father.' Now is it\njust right for you to take sides against your father?\"\n\nMabel's cheek flushed, and her voice trembled slightly, as she answered\u2014\n\n\"I am glad you put your question, Willy. The Book says, too, 'Children,\nobey your parents in the Lord;' and also, 'He that loveth father\nor mother more than me is not worthy of me.' We must, if we are\nChristians, put Christ first, and regulate our lives according to the\ntenor of the gospel, though we may sometimes be obliged in doing so to\noppose the will of those in authority. The word of God is our highest\nauthority. But in this matter, my father knows that I take Herbert's\nview of the right, and he does not try to bind my conscience.\"\n\n\"It seems to me,\" said Perry Morse\u2014and his position in his great\nsleepy-looking chair seemed to indicate that he would be glad if\nsomebody would take the trouble of making conscientious decisions for\nhim\u2014\"it seems to me that older and more experienced persons should know\nbetter than us boys what is right and what is wrong, and that we ought\nnot to set our judgment up against theirs.\"\n\nBut Mabel remembered that Perry had a will of his own when he chose to\nexercise it, and a quiet smile accompanied her reply.\n\n\"Perry, that argument would have more force if it came from a boy who\nwas always willing to listen to the opinions of older people, and ready\nto heed their counsels.\"\n\nThe boys laughed, and Perry looked a little embarrassed, but she\ncontinued, \"Suppose we take up one or two of Christ's sayings, and see\nhow it would do to put your conscience in another's keeping. This, for\ninstance, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, and\nthy neighbour as thyself.' Who will help you to obey that command?\nUpon whom can you shift the responsibility, if you fail to fulfil the\nobligation?\n\n\"Or this, 'Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you.'\nHow will another's judgment or experience serve you here? Who knows so\nwell as yourself what you would desire under the same circumstances?\nOf course there are times when we need the counsel and advice of our\nfriends. But, after all, the decision rests with our own consciences.\nThe Word and the Spirit are given to enlighten and guide; and we should\nkeep our consciences tender and pure, that they may not fail us in the\nhour of doubt and temptation. Led by the Spirit, we are sure to go\nright, but human counsel may lead us astray.\"\n\n\"How shall we know for certain?\" asked Willy.\n\n\"By the gospel test,\" answered Miss Wynn. \"Bring all doubtful questions\nto the Book, and settle them by its measure. This is only another way\nof bringing out our motto.\n\n\"My dear boys,\" continued the teacher, after a few moments, \"I am\nalways very glad when I see you trying to order your lives according to\nthe spirit of our chosen motto. But I am often disturbed by the fear\nthat some of you may make a merit of your following. I want to make\nyou understand that a mere outward observance of the precepts given\nus is not sufficient. Christ asks for a complete surrender of self, a\nlaying aside of selfish motives, a belief and trust in Him as a present\nSaviour. To really and truly follow Christ, we must first accept the\npardon he offers us. Scorning that, refusing to be first reconciled to\nHim, how can we render acceptable service?\"\n\nAs they separated after singing again, Lewie Amesbury walked away with\nan incredulous look upon his face, and his thoughts ran on something\nin this wise: \"I'm sure I don't quite know what Miss Wynn is driving\nat. She tells us to follow Christ, and then says it is of no account\nafter all. As for accepting pardon, I can't see what a fellow wants\nto be pardoned for, if he keeps on about right. Seems to me that it's\nkind of an unfair thing to haul him up, when he is doing his very best,\nand tell him it all goes for nothing. Folks that belong to the church\nalways talk just so. If some people that I know would try living up to\nthe Bible, maybe they would find out whether it amounts to anything or\nnot. I'd like to have the experiment tried in our house. Seems to me\nthat a little following would make a pleasanter home of it.\"\n\nAnd the incredulous look changed to one of sadness. Lewie's home was\nnot a happy one. She who had made its brightness had several years ago\nbeen called from earth, and the woman who filled her place seemed to\ncare very little for the comfort of the lonely boy. While professing\nto follow Christ, she followed the world, and unlike the mild and\ngentle teacher, she was harsh and uncharitable in her opinions, cold\nand haughty in her manner. Selfish and worldly, the religion of Christ\nmanifested in her life did not recommend itself to her stepson.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" she would say, \"Mr. Earle is a very good man, no doubt, but\nquite too strict for the place he occupies. There are so many people\nof wealth and culture in our church who will not be pinned down to\nsuch narrow notions. A man who could adapt himself to the wants of the\npeople would be more successful.\" As for Mabel Wynn, she was \"absurd\nand fanatical. It must be a great trial to Mrs. Wynn to see her go on\nin the way she does. There's Mr. Amesbury's son Lewie. She is trying\nto make a saint of him, and has succeeded so well that his long face\ndrives me half wild. Really I don't believe in making such a fuss about\none's religion. I never make a parade of what little I possess.\"\n\nMrs. Amesbury has spoken for herself: We will not judge her further;\nbut we need not be surprised that with a few exceptions, Lewie did not\nbelieve in \"church member's religion.\" Having adopted the watchword of\nthe class, he was in a sense trying to follow. Studying carefully the\nlife and character of Christ, he fancied that he could model his own\nafter that perfect pattern.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nA LESSON OF WAITING.\n\n   \"Shall we grow weary in our watch,\n      And murmur at the long delay,\n    Impatient of our Father's time\n      And his appointed way?\"\n\n\"How do you like your new clerk?\" asked Mrs. Wynn, as she poured out\nthe coffee one morning few months later.\n\n\"Pretty well,\" replied her husband. \"He is teachable and improves; he\nhas made some good sales already. To be sure he is not quite so prompt\nnor so industrious as Herbert, but then few boys are. I will say that\nfor Master Herbert, if only he had not been quite so certain that his\nown way was the best. It would have been a costly experiment, but I\nshould have liked to have kept him, just to see how far he would carry\nhis notions, and what they would amount to.\"\n\n\"His way? His notions?\" thought Mabel. \"Why don't father say God's\nway?\" But she did not speak her thought. She know it was useless to\nargue the question, and she was only too thankful that her father\nallowed her liberty of conscience, and seldom interfered with her plans.\n\nThe new clerk with whom Mr. Wynn had just expressed his satisfaction\nwas Perry Morse, who now filled the place made vacant by Herbert\nBradford's dismissal, notwithstanding Mr. Wynn had declared his\ndetermination not to take another boy from Mabel's class. It came about\nnaturally enough. Mr. Morse had intimate business connections with Mr.\nWynn, and the vacancy occurring just us he was looking about for a\nposition of the sort for his son, the place was easily secured, to the\npresent satisfaction of all parties. Very likely Mr. Wynn never knew\nthat Perry belonged to those boys, or had forgotten a resolution made\nin a moment of intense disgust and vexation.\n\nMabel had listened eagerly for the reply to her mother's question (a\nquestion she would not have put herself for a small fortune). She was\nnot surprised at the answer. Yet some way it saddened her, and as she\nwent up to her room when breakfast was over, the old questions came\nup, \"Have I done all I could for my class? Why does failure seem to be\nwritten upon my work?\"\n\nShe had met with many discouragements of late. Having determined to\nremain at her post through the winter, she had laboured diligently\nand prayerfully for her beloved class with little apparent success.\nTrue, Herbert went steadily forward in the path he had chosen, and\nquiet, thoughtful Willy was ever anxious to know and to do the will of\nChrist; then there was the suffering Henry, whose faith grew stronger\nand brighter. Surely the heart of the teacher might have rejoiced over\nthese souls saved!\n\nBut the others seemed slipping away from her and from Christ. Satan was\ndetermined to have them, and Mabel sometimes thought that everything\nconspired to favour the enemy's plans. Something had gone wrong with\nMr. Morse. There had been a warm debate in regard to some proposed\nSunday-school measure. Perhaps it was the question of \"old or young\nfirst in the distribution of library books,\" or it may have been in\nregard to the propriety of electing a lady to fill the office of\nassistant superintendent. I cannot say that it was not some really\nimportant question. At all events, as one of the defeated party, Mr.\nMorse was displeased, and declared that \"if Dr. Myers was going to run\nthe school, he would do it without any of his (Mr. Morse's) help,\" and\nby way of punishing the offenders, he absented himself. Perry had just\nreached the age when boys (some boys) are apt to think themselves too\nold to go to Sunday-school, and now that he had his father's example\nbefore him, he became very irregular in attendance.\n\nIn vain, Mabel sought him out and redoubled her efforts to interest\nhim. He would not be interested, only when the little quiet talk among\nthe teachers and Dr. Myers's energetic moves had done their work, and\nthe Sabbath-School Missionary Association was formed, with Mr. Burns (a\nmember of Dr. Myers's class) as president, Miss Joslyn secretary, and\nPerry Morse treasurer. He condescended to accept his appointment, and\nmade a great display of business, but paid little attention to the main\nwork of the hour.\n\nAs for Lewie Amesbury, he was diligent as ever, but drew his\nself-righteousness more closely about him, spoke bitterly of those who,\nproposing to live by faith and to be actuated by love for Jesus, failed\nin their lives to honour their Master\u2014as he expressed it\u2014\"Keeping their\nreligion for communion Sundays, and doing like other people the rest of\nthe time.\" His interest in sacred themes, his study, his following, was\nall of the intellect, his heart was untouched; as Mabel said often and\nsadly to herself, \"I cannot reach him.\"\n\nWith Duncan McNair, it was different. He had no interest of any sort.\nHe came to Sunday-school sometimes with and sometimes without a lesson;\nhe came because he liked to be with the boys, liked Miss Wynn, liked\nthe library books, and, like every other boy in the congregation, he\nliked Mr. Earle. But first in his list of saints and heroes was Dr.\nMyers, who had once helped him out of some boyish scrape; for that\nmatter, somebody might have a chance to help him out of a scrape almost\nany day, for he was generally in one. His mother had died so long ago\nthat he scarcely remembered her. He had been petted and spoiled as well\nas cared for, by his grandmother, until she too, was called away when\nhe was twelve years old. Since then, he had lived at home with his\nfather and the housekeeper.\n\nJudge McNair was a wealthy and influential lawyer, and a man of much\nculture, both intellectual and spiritual. Duncan was his only son, and\nof late, from being more constantly with the boy, he noticed with pain\nthe careless habits of thought and speech which he had been suffered\nto acquire. He said, too, that though openhearted and generous, Duncan\nwas wilful and passionate, and that very few people seemed to have any\ninfluence over him. From the first, Mabel was one of these few; but\nthough he was always ready to serve her, he would not listen to serious\nconversation. Scenting the most distant approach to it, he brought out\nhis keenest weapons of nonsense and adroitness, and invariably managed\nto turn aside every attempt at a personal appeal.\n\nJust once that winter, Mabel grew hopeful. It was the Sabbath of the\nWeek of Prayer. She had gone from her closet to her class; gone with\nthe lesson not more in her mind than in her heart, and had taught as\none who teaches for eternity. Duncan forgot to be nonsensical. Lewie\nseemed to realize that there might be a depth of meaning in their\nwatchword which he had not fathomed, and even Perry was less alive to\nthe importance of his official duties. Referring to the notices of\nreligious services every evening during the week, the teacher expressed\nthe hope that they would all attend the meetings, and was gratified at\nthe promptness with which they responded to the request.\n\nBut it turned out that of all the class, only Herbert and Arthur Knapp\nwere present upon Monday evening. Some trifle kept Perry away, Mrs.\nAmesbury sent Lewie upon an errand to her milliner, and Duncan forgot\nall about the meeting until it was too late; his father being out of\ntown, he was not reminded by him as he would otherwise have been. As\nfor Miss Wynn herself, she was detained at home by an attack of nervous\nheadache. So it chanced that none of those four heard of a singular\ndiscussion which arose at the close of the evening's service, nor of\nthe result. It appeared that a popular lecturer, who regarded not the\nappointments of the \"Evangelical Alliance,\" proposed to occupy Tuesday\nevening in speaking in the hall upon a scientific subject, and Mr.\nMorse suggested that the meeting for that evening be given up. Though\nMr. Earle and others were opposed, the majority were in favour of the\narrangement, and carried that point. They argued that a great many\nwould go to the lecture anyway who ought to go to the meeting, if there\nwere one, and it was better to give it up entirely.\n\nSaid Mr. Earle, \"If it were a question of making an appointment there\nmight be room for hesitation, but in the case of one already made, and\nby us at second hand, I must protest against recalling the notice.\"\n\nBut, as I have said, the majority ruled, and the lecturer was sure\nof an audience. Strangely enough, Mr. Morse did not speak of the\nmatter at home. It is not so very strange either, for Mrs. Morse\nnever went out evenings, and Perry was not supposed to be interested\nin prayer-meetings. Ah, if we only knew sometimes what people were\ninterested in!\n\n\"Want to go to the lecture tonight, Perry?\" asked Mr. Morse at\ntea-time. \"I'm going to get tickets. Get one for you?\"\n\n\"No, sir. I've another engagement,\" answered Perry.\n\n\"Better give it up. This will be best one of the season.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't care about going,\" replied Perry.\n\nAnd a little later, he started out to go to a prayer-meeting! As he\nreached the corner, he stopped suddenly, saying to himself, \"Catch me\nstalking in there alone. I'll just run around and see if Art will go.\"\n\n\"Why couldn't father have told me?\" he exclaimed, ten minutes later,\nwhen Arthur Knapp had explained the state of affairs.\n\nAh! Why couldn't he? It is safe to say that if he had, Perry might have\ngone to the lecture instead of a worse place, and the first downward\nstep would not have been taken that night. And, to go a little further\nback, why couldn't he have been satisfied with things as they were,\nletting the meeting have its chance. Then, perhaps, it might have been\nan upward step.\n\nLewie and Duncan met somewhere in the street, and decided to go to\nmeeting together, but soon learned that there was none to go to; and\npresently they met Miss Wynn coming from the darkened church, herself\nquite in the dark.\n\n\"I wonder what it means,\" she said. \"I thought there was to be service\nevery evening!\"\n\n\"So there was,\" Lewie replied. \"I couldn't come last night, but I came\ntonight, to keep my promise. But it seems that science is better than\nreligion\u2014for some folks,\" he added quickly, as Mabel said, \"O Lewie!\"\nin a troubled tone.\n\n\"Don't be cross about it,\" said Duncan. \"If they had only known that\nyou and I were coming, they'd had a meeting sure. We'll let them know\nbeforehand next time. They didn't expect us out, you know.\"\n\n\"But I don't understand,\" said Mabel.\n\n\"Why, you see,\" replied Lewie, \"Professor A. is going to demonstrate\nthe problem of the man in the moon's mode of existence, or some other\npuzzle, so the meeting is given up. I suppose people can sing and pray\nany evening, but they can't hear Professor A., except tonight. Still I\nthink it is queer, and the Week of Prayer, too!\n\n\"I tell you, Miss Wynn,\" he continued, \"things are a great puzzle to\nme. If prayer is so important that a week is set apart for it, and the\nwhole world turned into a great prayer-meeting, I should think that\nProfessor A. might go without an audience, rather than the meeting be\ngiven up. It appears that it is not considered of much consequence\nafter all. Shall we go to the lecture, Miss Wynn?\"\n\n\"I think not,\" she replied. \"We will be consistent, anyway. I am quite\npuzzled about the matter, but I will venture to assert that you will\nnot find Mr. Earle, nor several others I might mention, at the hall\ntonight; and I have no doubt there will be a great deal of closet\nprayer this evening. And, Lewie, you know this doesn't prove anything\nagainst the power and importance of prayer. It may show that too low an\nestimate is put upon its value, but nothing more.\"\n\n\"Well, Lew,\" said Duncan, as they reached Mr. Wynn's store, where Mabel\nsought an escort for her homeward walk, \"what are we going to do now?\nI'm afloat.\"\n\n\"Upon a sea of nothingness?\" asked Lewie. \"Well, I don't know, I'm\nsure. Hang around a spell, and then go home, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Hang around!\" repeated Mabel to herself. \"Yes, and be snapped up by\nSatan in some of his guises. No, that won't do,\" and her thoughts\ntravelled quickly, seeking a remedy for the evil. She had intended to\ngo directly home and spend the evening in her own room, but now she\nchanged her mind very suddenly.\n\n\"See here,\" she said, \"suppose we go around and spend an hour with\nHenry Trafton.\"\n\n\"All right! Superexcellent!\" exclaimed Duncan. \"If we can't go to\nprayer-meeting, we will visit the sick. What say, Lew?\"\n\n\"I don't care. Yes, I'd like it,\" answered Lewie.\n\nHenry, who had so far improved as to be able to move about his room\nby means of an invalid's chair, welcomed them warmly, and they spent\na quiet evening together, safe from the vices and temptations of the\nstreet.\n\nBut where was Perry Morse? Sauntering down street, he met Nick Turner,\nan out-and-out loafer, who called out\u2014\n\n\"Halloo! I say, Morse, how do you happen to be in the street this time\nof day?\"\n\nHow the fellow dared to address Perry Morse, haughty as he generally\nwas, in that familiar tone and manner, must remain unexplained. Almost\nany other time, Perry would have answered shortly, \"That's my affair,\"\nand passed on; but tonight he was out of tune; he had missed the\nlecture for nothing, and being in search of amusement, he replied\u2014\n\n\"I got leave of absence to go to church, because I thought that was the\nstyle; but it seems the fashion has changed, so I'm out.\"\n\n\"Ho! That's it! Well, just you follow me, and I'll show you a tall\nthing or two, that will throw your sort of fun in the shade.\"\n\nA dingy back room, half a dozen boys around a table, a pack of dirty\ncards, a bottle and some glasses. Nick knew they waited for him, but\nhe knew better than to take Perry Morse into that den, so he turned\nin at Murphy's saloon, where everything was bright and enticing. It\nwas a rather expensive place, to be sure, but then it was not often\nhe had such a companion, and perhaps in the end it would pay. They\nfound dominoes and dice, and whatever else belongs to the gambler's\ncraft, and they found cigars and liquors, and silver and cut glass, and\nobsequious attendance. But why try to describe the gilded haunt of sin,\nor recount the story of the evening? Late that evening, Perry groped\nhis way to his room, his pockets empty and his head\u2014well, something\nailed his head\u2014something was the matter the next morning with head,\nhands, and limbs. Could it have been the wine?\n\nIn vain, Miss Wynn looked for the boys of her class the next evening.\nExcepting Herbert and Willy, none of them appeared at church during the\nremainder of the week, and when she met them on the Sabbath, all signs\nof any special interest had vanished. Then it was that these souls\nresting heavily upon her, she grew weary and faint, until remembering\nthat the work was Christ's, and that surely he must have far more\ninterest than she could have, she took heart again, saying, softly, \"In\nthine own time and way, O God!\" Mabel was learning to wait.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nTHE CIRCLE BROKEN.\n\n   \"Jesus, when my soul is parting\n      From this body frail and weak,\n    . . . . Thine, my Saviour,\n      Be the name I last shall speak.\"\n\n\"WELL, Herbert, what are you going to do now?\" asked Mr. Earle sometime\nduring that winter. \"Are you going to fit for college?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" replied Herbert. \"I am going to become a merchant, of course.\nI shall not give up for one failure. Father is on the look-out for a\nposition for me.\"\n\n\"Study the matter carefully and prayerfully, Herbert. The Lord\nsometimes thwarts our plans to try us, sometimes to turn us.\"\n\n\"Of course I make it a subject of prayer,\" replied Herbert.\n\nMr. Earle, though he had his plan and hope for the boy, did not think\nit wise to say more at that time, and his slight hint was quite\nunnoticed. Herbert, like a great many other people, had first made\nup his mind, and afterwards asked God to guide and direct him, which\nmeant, if he had but known it, to help him on in the way he had chosen.\nBut older and wiser Christians often do the same thing.\n\nAs Mr. Bradford had predicted, it was not easy to secure another\ndesirable situation in Westville. Mr. Wynn was popular, and the other\nmerchants thought, if they did not say it, \"There must have been\nsomething back of that story. Of course, Mr. Wynn would shield the son\nof his friend, and they have hushed up the matter.\"\n\nAfter one or two trials, Mr. Bradford gave up the idea of getting\na place at present, and decided to send Herbert to school. Herbert\nwas disappointed, and begged to be allowed to go to the city, where\na friend had offered him a position; but his mother was an invalid,\nand pleaded so hard for a year or two more at home, that the offer\nwas declined. He was a good scholar and fond of books, but had never\ninclined to a profession; his father wished to make him a lawyer, but\nhe had a decided repugnance to that profession.\n\n\"A year or two longer at school will do no harm,\" said his mother, \"and\nperhaps something will offer by that time.\"\n\nAnd as it seemed the only thing to do, he pursued his studies in the\nsame classes with Lewie and Arthur. If nothing more of good had ever\ngrown out of his dismissal from Mr. Wynn's store, the advantage which\nArthur Knapp derived from Herbert's companionship would of itself have\nshown that there was design in what seemed only a misfortune. Arthur's\nassociates had hitherto been of a different stamp. He had never been\nplaced alongside of one whose life was ordered by Christian principle.\nHe had no idea that a boy who was trying to follow Christ could be such\na pleasant companion. Gradually Herbert gained an influence over him,\nand his disputes (which were sure to be angry ones) with the boys grew\nless frequent, and he had less trouble with the teachers; rather they\nhad less trouble with him. And as school-life grew more tolerable, the\nhome life was less tempestuous, and frequently Arthur carried home so\nmuch sunshine that it lasted all the evening.\n\nThen the months rolled away with few noticeable changes until the\nthird year of Miss Wynn's connection with the class was ended. Once in\nthe time, Herbert had gone into a store in a neighbouring town, but\nwas soon recalled by the alarming illness of his father, and before\nhe could be spared from the invalid's side, the vacancy was filled.\nBut his city friend had again offered him a position, his mother had\nconsented, and he was going soon.\n\nAffairs had so far brightened with Mr. Knapp that he had been able to\nkeep Arthur in school a year longer than he had expected, but he had\nnow been some months away working at a trade.\n\nGreater changes were coming. Things never stay long in the same\nposition even apparently. The Lorings had just returned from the\nseaside, where they went in June with Willy, who was failing in\nhealth. At first there seemed to be an improvement. He sent pleasant,\nboyish letters to his \"dear Miss Wynn,\" telling her of his returning\nstrength\u2014letters that were running over with a quiet happiness, a\nhappiness that had its foundation in a childlike trust in the dear\nSaviour.\n\nLater, he had not been so well. A note from his sister informed Mabel\nthat \"Willy wished to thank her for her kind letters, but he was not\nquite strong enough to write.\"\n\nAt last they brought him home, and Mabel, calling as soon as she\nlearned of the arrival, was met by Miss Louise, whose sad pale face\ntold of nights of watching and of hope almost gone.\n\n\"The doctor says he may linger until the leaves fall,\" she said, in\nanswer to Mabel's inquiries; then with a passionate outburst, \"O Mabel,\nit is cruel, cruel, to take away our darling! This is your kind, loving\nGod!\"\n\nMabel sat down beside her friend, offering no word of reply, no attempt\nat consolation, knowing too well how worse than useless are words when\nthe soul first tastes the bitterness of death, remembering her own hour\nof darkness, for once in Mabel Wynn's young life, death had come very\nnear taking away a bright earthly hope. So she waited until Louise grew\ncalm and spoke again.\n\n\"Willy has several times said he should not get well, but we thought\nit a fancy, until this morning Dr. Myers told us the same. But I won't\ngive up yet. He must get well.\"\n\n\"Louise, dear friend\u2014\" began Mabel.\n\n\"Oh, I know what you are going to say. You Christians talk about\nsubmission to the will of God, but I don't see that the most do not\nrebel quite as often as we do.\"\n\n\"Does Willy?\" asked Mabel, softly.\n\n\"No; but he is unlike any one I ever knew. The darling! I cannot give\nhim up. You need not talk resignation to me.\"\n\n\"I will not,\" returned Mabel. \"You mistook my intention. Until you look\nupon God as your friend you cannot say, 'Thy will be done.' I think\nyou will grow to feel differently; but just now I only wanted to say\nthat in your grief, you must not forget what awaits him, how he will be\nwelcomed in the other world, how more than all you have hoped for him\nhere will be realized there. He is very dear to me. I have watched him\nripening for the time of his ingathering, and I feel sure that he is\nChrist's very own.\"\n\n\"I know, I know he is!\" exclaimed Louise. Then with sudden vehemence,\n\"I wish I were, I wish I were!\"\n\nMabel was startled. The bitterness with which Louise had spoken of\nGod's dealings and her rebellious mood had seemed to indicate that she\nwas far from desiring to have aught to do with Christ. Louise felt the\nwant of a strong arm, and she knew that Jesus did support his followers\nin their hours of trial. She knew that Willy and Mabel had a source of\nstrength which she had not, and a sudden longing to possess it came\nover her.\n\n\"'Come unto me,'\" repeated Mabel, \"'Every one.' 'Whosoever will.' You\nsee there is only acceptance, and you may step into the kingdom and\ntake your inheritance of love, peace, comfort and strength.\"\n\n\"Will you go up and see Willy now?\" asked Louise, presently.\n\nIt was a quiet but cheerful interview. Willy said\u2014\n\n\"I am glad you have come. I wanted to thank you, while I have strength,\nfor all you have done for me. You made the way to Christ so plain that\nI think I found him two years ago. I have been trying to follow ever\nsince. The white line leads to a bridge, and I have almost reached it.\nSometimes people talk about the dark waters of the river of death. But\nChrist's love stretches all the way across. I think it is strong enough\nto carry me over,\" he said, smiling.\n\nMabel was not the only one who went out from the presence of the dying\nboy comforted and strengthened. He lingered a month or two, until dark,\nchilly November, and while he had strength to speak, his constant theme\nwas Christ. Once, when his sister Louise had performed some little\nservice for him, he said\u2014\n\n\"Thank you, Louise. I shall not need that many times more.\"\n\n\"Oh, my darling!\" she returned. \"Why must we give you up?\"\n\n\"Because Jesus wants me,\" he answered. Looking wistfully at her, he\ncontinued, \"Ever since I learned to know Jesus, I have been praying for\nyou particularly. I did not forget the rest, but my great longing was\nfor you. It seemed as if you needed Christ so much.\"\n\nTears and sobs almost choked the words which Louise whispered.\n\n\"And, Willy, I sometimes think I have found Him. A great peace has\nlately come into my heart. I have hardly dared to hope that it is the\npeace of God; but it seems to grow out of a trust in His love.\"\n\n\"O my sister! And you'll never give up until they are all brought to\nChrist?\"\n\nOne morning a message came. Willy was failing rapidly. Would Mabel come?\n\n\"We felt that we could not be alone to-day,\" said Miss Loring. \"Mamma\nis quite overcome, and my sisters are so unused to care. If you will\nthink for us, we shall be grateful. Send for anybody you choose.\"\n\nSo it happened that Mabel Wynn, who had always been friendly with the\nLorings, but not intimate, stood by her beloved pupil at the last,\nwiped his damp brow, responded to the faint request, \"Sing of Jesus,\"\nsupported the fainting mother; and, finally, when Willy had fallen\nasleep, planned, arranged, and executed numberless minor details that\nsomebody must always attend to when death is a guest in the house.\n\nDuring the next day, she stood for a moment beside the young sleeper,\nwhen the door opened and Louise came and stood beside her.\n\n\"He was young to die,\" said the sister sadly.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mabel. \"But do you know, Louise, I cannot connect the\nthought of death with him. It is as though he were sleeping now, and\nby-and-by 'twill be as though he had just gone out of sight, and was\nwaiting somewhere ahead for us. Dear child! He need to ask a great\nmany questions as to what I thought about heaven. I remember one thing\nseemed to trouble him; he did not know anybody there, and it would all\nbe so strange\u2014he would feel so shy.\n\n\"I said, 'But, perhaps, before you go, you may have a great many\nfriends there.'\n\n\"'Perhaps so,' he said.\n\n\"Then I told him that any way Jesus would be there, and he asked, 'Do\nyou suppose that Jesus would notice a little fellow like me?'\"\n\n\"Darling!\" said Louise, bending over her idol. \"You've received your\nwelcome!\"\n\nThe circle was indeed broken! Willy gone! Herbert and Arthur away\nfrom home. Henry rarely able to be present, and Perry coming only\noccasionally. Only Lewie and Duncan were regularly and promptly in\ntheir places. But, except the one for whom she had now no need to\nlabour, Mabel still counted them hers, still sought to bring them all\nto Christ.\n\nWhen Herbert and Arthur went away, they carried notes of introduction\nto Sabbath-school superintendents, and frequent letters testified of\nher continued interest in their welfare. Calling on Mrs. Knapp one day,\nthat lady said,\u2014\n\n\"Arthur writes that he hears from you sometimes. I am very glad that\nyou take the trouble to write to him. I am sorry to say that Arthur is\nnot as steady as we could wish. I hope he will improve, and I depend a\ngreat deal upon your influence over him.\"\n\nPoor woman! She had not yet learned to depend upon Christ, and Mabel\nsaid\u2014\n\n\"My dear Mrs. Knapp, my letters, my influence are worth very little to\nArthur, compared with what a praying mother would be to him. And the\nrest of your children\u2014you need Christ for them.\"\n\n\"I know it,\" said Mrs. Knapp. \"There was a time, a great many years\nago, when I hoped I was a Christian; but I don't know. It is a long\nwhile since I have had any religious privileges, and with so many\ncares, I got in the way of neglecting prayer, and reading the Bible,\nand now I suppose I'll just go on so.\"\n\n\"I hope not,\" said Mabel, quickly. \"I come in to-day on purpose to\ninvite you to the afternoon prayer-meeting in the church parlour. I\nwill come around to-morrow afternoon with a friend who will take you,\nand I will stay with the children.\"\n\nThus smoothing the way, she gained her point. It was after spending a\nfew hours with those ungoverned children that Mabel said (talking to\nherself), \"How much that family need Christ!\"\n\nThis was precisely the remark she had made after calling upon the\nLorings. Yet the Knapps and Lorings are not the only people who turn\naway from Him who would supply their great need!\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nDUNCAN FOLLOWS HIS OWN DEVICES.\n\nIF anyone supposes that Mabel Wynn had found a smooth and even pathway\nlaid out for her during these years, that person is mistaken. A great\nmany things annoyed and tried her. The atmosphere of her father's house\nwas in a high degree worldly, and sometimes it seemed to her that all\nspiritual growth must be smothered. Her parents had always been very\nindulgent, and this fact had only made it harder to oppose their wishes\nwhen these conflicted with her ideas of duty.\n\nIf Mrs. Wynn was disturbed when Mabel quietly ripped an extra ruffle\nfrom a new costume, and laid aside an unusually gay hat, or when she\nchose to spend her money for Sabbath-school helps; when she declined\nto attend card and dancing parties, or parties of any sort, whenever\nthey interfered with more important duties; when she put aside her\naunt's invitation to spend the winter in the city, from conscientious\nmotives\u2014that lady considered it the climax of absurdities when the\nexasperating young woman refused young Mr. Golden's offer of marriage.\n\n\"I declare,\" she said, \"Mabel Wynn, you are enough to drive one\ndistracted! Your whims and ridiculous notions quite outweigh your\ncommon sense. You always were an absurd child, but since you got\nbewitched with those boys, and so mixed up with Sunday-school people,\nyou have grown positively fanatical. I am out of all patience! What\nmore can you want? Young, handsome, rich, of fine connections, well\neducated, and, I presume, moral character, and you throw it all over,\nfor what reason nobody knows. Hard as I have worked to bring it about,\ntoo!\"\n\n\"My dear mother, I am sorry that you have troubled yourself. If you had\nconsulted me beforehand, I could have told you how utterly useless it\nwas. But really I do not see that all your recommendations do not apply\nto Judge McNair, except, maybe, that he is not so very young. And as to\nhis moral character, you have no need to take it upon presumption. I\nbelieve he is remarkable not only for strict integrity, but for earnest\ndevotion to Christ.\"\n\n\"What's the use of talking! You know he is not one of my sort; but, as\nusual, you have won over your father, and I suppose I must consent with\nwhat grace I may. Since you won't marry Mr. Golden, and Dr. Myers is\nout of the question, I'd as lief it should be Judge McNair as anybody.\nHe does rank high in his profession, that is one consolation.\"\n\nAnd straightway, Mrs. Wynn set herself about planning and ordering an\nextensive wardrobe for the bride-elect. Just one more \"whim\" she had\nyet to gratify. Mabel had chosen to be married quietly at home upon\nThanksgiving morning, which certainly was not quite in keeping with\nMrs. Wynn's ideas. The only daughter of the rich man ought to have a\ngrand wedding, and it was so commonplace to choose Thanksgiving. \"It\nwas only ordinary country people who did that.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Mabel, \"if it is not a matter of thanksgiving, then I won't\nbe married at all; if it is, then it must be very proper to choose that\nday.\"\n\nAnd that day was chosen.\n\n\"Oh, dear!\" sighed Jenny McNair, coming in from school about a week\nbefore Thanksgiving. \"What a horrid lonesome house this is! It is the\nworst place when I come in at night after being with the girls all day.\nNobody to speak to, nobody to welcome me. I wish\u2014\"\n\n\"What do you wish, my daughter?\" asked Judge McNair, who unexpectedly\nappeared at the parlour door, while Jenny talked to herself as she\nthrew off her wraps in the hall.\n\nShe hesitated, then spoke out quickly, with something in the tone that\nbegged pardon for her suggestion.\n\n\"I just wish you'd get me a mamma! I'm sick and tired of living so.\nNobody to fix my clothes or curl my hair, help me out with my lessons,\nor do anything that I want done. All the girls are talking about\nThanksgiving, going to have family parties, and everything nice.\"\nLooking up, she saw a curious smile on her father's face.\n\n\"Well, Jenny,\" he said, \"come in here, and I'll tell you something. I\nmean this shall be a real Thanksgiving for you and Duncan.\"\n\nIt was a very pleasant little talk they had, and at the close Jenny\nsaid\u2014\n\n\"Does Dunny know?\"\n\n\"Yes, I told him this afternoon,\" replied her father, a little sadly;\nhowever, the sad inflection escaped Jenny's notice, so busy was she\nwith her own glad thoughts. Duncan did not appear at tea-time. Jenny\nwondered, and Mr. McNair looked troubled but made no remark.\n\nAs soon as his father left the house, Duncan came down from his room.\n\n\"Why, Dunny,\" exclaimed Jenny, \"are you sick? Nancy has carried away\nthe things. Shall I bring you some tea?\"\n\n\"No!\" replied Duncan, shortly, tilting his chair and thumping his head\nagainst the wall, a trick he had when he was particularly out of humour.\n\nSuddenly Jenny remembered something pleasant.\n\n\"O Dunny, isn't it perfectly splendid?\"\n\n\"What?\" asked Duncan, testily.\n\n\"You needn't pretend not to understand. Papa said he had told you.\nWon't it be lovely?\"\n\n\"Just like a girl! Bought up with a new dress, I suppose,\" growled\nDuncan.\n\n\"Why, Duncan McNair, you act as if you didn't like it.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't, and I didn't suppose you'd be such a goose. I think\nit's just mean, that's what I think,\" said Duncan, pounding the wall\nenergetically.\n\n\"Well,\" responded Jenny, \"if you knew how much I need somebody to take\ncare of me, you wouldn't you think me a goose.\"\n\n\"I can take of myself,\" replied Duncan, adding, in an undertone, \"and\nI will, too;\" then raising his voice, \"I'll tell you just what I think\nabout this piece of business;\" but as we already understand the drift\nof his thoughts upon the subject under consideration, we will not\nrepeat the exposition of his sentiments, given in no very choice or\ngentle terms.\n\nFinally Jenny interrupted.\n\n\"Stop, Duncan! What would Miss Wynn say if she heard you go on at that\nrate?\"\n\nTo this, he made no sort of reply, but gathering his books together,\npretended to study. Sure enough, what would she say? He was half a mind\nto go and tell her his trouble. It was Wednesday evening; she would\nbe at the prayer-meeting; he could step in, and be ready to join her\nwhen the meeting closed. So strong was the prompting, that he actually\nstarted, and gained half the distance to the church, when he was met\nand diverted from his purpose by Perry Morse, who had tickets for some\nsecond or third rate exhibition at the Hall. At first Duncan declined\nthe invitation, upon which Nick Turner, who was with Perry, said\u2014\n\n\"Better come along while you have a chance. Going to have a new\nadministration up at your house, I hear. Likely the first move will be\nto shut down on this sort of thing.\"\n\n\"I don't imagine the new administration will affect me much,\" replied\nDuncan.\n\n\"That's the kind. But we are late; come on!\" And they hurried forward,\nDuncan with them.\n\nThe next morning Duncan said\u2014\n\n\"Father, I really wish you would let me go to Uncle John's. This is the\nsecond special invitation I have had. And you must not blame me, but I\nwould rather be away on Thanksgiving Day.\"\n\n\"I am sorry,\" replied his father, \"that you cannot fall in with our\nplans. We expected that you and Jenny would be present at the ceremony,\nand after dinner we would all come back here together. But, perhaps,\nin your present mood, it may be as well for you to go. If you feel\ndifferently, you can return the first of the week. I am sorry, Duncan,\nthat you are so unhappy about this. I had counted upon your hearty\napproval of my choice.\"\n\nWhy in the world couldn't Judge McNair have once mentioned the name of\nhis choice?\n\nThe next morning, Duncan departed, and Jenny went with her father\nto call upon the future Mrs. McNair, making what excuse she could\nfor Duncan. She came home more delighted than ever. Very busy was\nshe during the next few days, arranging and rearranging the rooms,\npreparing little devices of welcome, selecting her gifts, hurrying the\ndressmaker and hindering everybody.\n\nMeantime Duncan and his cousin Joe were having long talks. Duncan had\nrecounted his troubles, and found Joe a sympathizing listener.\n\n\"I wouldn't stand it if I were you.\"\n\n\"I am not going to. I wish I could get something to do here in Caryl. I\ndon't intend to go back to Westville at present.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that?\" asked Joe eagerly.\n\n\"Yes, I mean it.\"\n\n\"Well, now, say; suppose we go off together! I'm sick of this place. It\nis awful poky anyway. I just want to see the world.\"\n\n\"But will your father let you go?\" asked Duncan, in surprise.\n\n\"Will your father let you go?\" repeated Joe, laughing.\n\n\"I sha'n't ask him.\"\n\n\"And I sha'n't ask him,\" again repeated Joe.\n\nThe next four or five days were full of planning. Wonderful were their\nimaginary adventures. Nu thought of failure entered their heads. Of\ncourse they must succeed. In what? In being independent, of course. Joe\nbrought out a book filled with sketches of successful men who, when\nmere boys, had started out with empty pockets and determined purposes.\nOf course they should come out all right. If only somebody had been\nthere to suggest to the foolish fellows that running away from good\nhomes was not characteristic of these noble boys. How to get away\nwithout exciting suspicion was a question which required considerable\nstudy.\n\n\"How shall I ever got my trunk to the depot?\" pondered Joe.\n\n\"Mine isn't half full,\" said his cousin. \"Put your things in with mine;\nthat will fix that part of the business, and we shall have to trust to\nluck for the rest.\"\n\nFriday morning, Duncan started for home. As he was saying \"Good-by\" to\nhis friends, Joe called out from the steps\u2014\n\n\"Good-by all! If I don't come back, you may know that I have gone with\nDuncan.\"\n\nAs he had repeatedly declared his intention of going home with his\ncousin, the family finally settled upon this conclusion when he did not\nappear at dinner time.\n\nTruth is, Joe Aiken was a wild boy, and used to having pretty much his\nown way, going and coming as he pleased; but this was the first time he\nhad launched out so boldly for a sail upon an unknown sea. Of course\ntheir destination was New York, which they reached the same evening.\nJoe suggested that as they had a pretty good supply of money (he had\nnot hesitated to help himself from his father's desk), they should\nspend a few days in having a good time, seeing the sights and getting\nacquainted with the city, meantime looking out for work.\n\nDuncan had objected to going to New York, saying that it would be\ninconvenient to meet Herbert Bradford. But Joe said, \"Fudge! We might\nstay in the city ten years and never light upon anybody we ever saw\nbefore. I can tell you there is no place like New York to get lost in.\nAnd that's what we want, isn't it?\"\n\nNo place like New York to get lost in!\n\nDuncan began to feel the truth of this before he had been there\ntwenty-four hours; and in the little time that elapsed before he saw\nWestville again, he many times feared that he was lost indeed. For\nDuncan's heart was tender, and his affection for the home friends\nstrong. He had left home and entered upon this mad course in a fit\nof angry excitement. He had known one or two second-mothers who were\nunworthy to hold that place, and measured all by their standard;\nbesides, he did not like the lady whom he supposed his father was\nabout to bring to his house; and in his blindness, he thought he was\njustified in his resentment and rebellion.\n\nWhat those boys did, where they went, what scenes they looked upon\nduring the days of their sojourn in the city, never exactly transpired.\n\nJenny once asked, \"Dunny, did you go to Central Park when you were in\nNew York?\" and received for reply, \"Better not ask any questions about\nthat, Jenny. I can tell you I came pretty near going to destruction!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nDR. MYERS \"LENDS A HAND.\"\n\n   \"Now make us strong, we need Thy deep revealing\n    Of trust and strength and calmness from above.\"\n\nAT Westville, Thursday's programme was carried out. A quiet wedding,\na small dinner party, after which, the newly married pair quietly\nestablished themselves in their own home.\n\nUpon Friday, Mr. McNair received Duncan's note, which ran thus:\n\n                                    \"CARYL. Tuesday.\n\n   \"DEAR FATHER:\u2014This is to say that you need not make a commotion about\nmy coming back. It might hurt Mrs. McNair's pride to have it noised\nabout that her son is a runaway. I think I will defer paying my\nrespects to that lady until I have time to prepare my speech. You need\nnot inquire for me at Caryl. I shall not be there. When I have anything\nworth saying, I'll write.\n\n                                   \"DUNCAN.\"\n\nThe strong man groaned as he read this apparently heartless note.\n\n\"My poor boy! My poor foolish boy! May God help us!\"\n\nAlready Jenny and her mother had begun to wonder when Dunny would come,\nand Judge McNair shrank from imparting the sorrowful news he had just\nreceived. If it were only possible to find him and bring him back,\nwithout ever revealing the truth; but where should he look for him\u2014how\ntrace him out? Where could he have gone without money?\n\nHere a thought ran through the father's mind. Duncan had a small sum in\nthe Savings Bank, deposited in his own name, a little legacy from his\ngrandmother, with a few savings of his own. An inquiry brought out the\nfact that he had drawn this the day he went away.\n\nThere was not the slightest clue as to the direction his wanderings\nhad taken. Possibly he might be traced from Caryl, but not likely\u2014so\nthe bewildered man thought; the strong man, the far-seeing lawyer, the\nclear-headed judge was at his wits' end. Things looked very dark to\nhim, until he had talked it over with his wife and Jenny, who, though\nterribly shocked and pained, were hopeful.\n\n\"We must find him and bring him back,\" said Mrs. McNair. \"Some one\nought to go to Caryl, and see what can be learned there. He could\nhardly stay there four or five days, and let fall no hint of his plans.\"\n\n\"True, true,\" responded the judge, and while they were talking and\nplanning, Nancy announced that Dr. Myers was in the parlour.\n\n\"Just the one to advise with!\" said Mabel.\n\nGoing to meet his guest, who had called to pay his respects to the\nbride, Mr. McNair said\u2014\n\n\"You find us in trouble,\" and then suddenly he asked\u2014\n\n\"Can you leave town tonight upon a mission of great importance?\"\n\nMuch astonished, the doctor replied, \"Why, this is a sudden proposal;\nbut, if necessary, I might. But to go where, and stay how long?\"\n\n\"I will explain,\" which Mr. McNair proceeded to do, adding, \"If you\ncould start tonight, and return to-morrow noon, I could be ready to\nfollow a clue, should you find one. The widow Fletcher's case is to be\nargued to-morrow, and I should not feel justified in leaving unless\nabsolutely necessary. I could trust you.\"\n\n\"Thank you\u2014I will go.\"\n\nUpon taking leave of the McNairs, Dr. Myers went directly to the office\nof his friend and counsellor, Dr. Maxwell.\n\n\"Doctor, could you do me a favour?\"\n\n\"I certainly will, if I can,\" replied Dr. Maxwell. \"You have done me\ntoo many to allow a refusal.\"\n\nExplaining that a sudden and imperative call would take him out of town\nfor a longer or shorter period, he requested the doctor to take charge\nof his patients. This matter being arranged, he wrote the following\nnote:\n\n   \"MR. CLARKE:\u2014I am suddenly called from home. Doubtful if I return for\nSunday. Please look up a teacher for my class. I suggest Mrs. Bradford,\nbut I have not time to see her.\n\n   \"My mission is an important one. Ask God to go with me.\n\n                          \"Your brother in Christ,\n\n                                      \"L. N. MYERS.\"\n\nA few more hurried preparations, and he was off by the 11 o'clock\nexpress.\n\nThe next day Judge McNair received this telegram:\u2014\n\n   \"Off for New York. Slight clue. Wait for a letter.\n\n                       \"L. N. MYERS.\"\n\nA few hours later, a letter came, written on board the train:\u2014\n\n   \"DEAR FRIENDS:\u2014I reached Mr. Aiken's house before breakfast. Found\nyour nephew Joe had gone off with Duncan. Supposed to have returned to\nWestville. Left on Wednesday. Mr. Aiken and myself went to the depot\nto make inquiries. Neither the ticket-agent nor the baggage-master\nremembered them, and I was about giving up in despair, when a ragged\nboy with a basket of peanuts on his arm said\u2014\n\n   \"'Bese you axin about Joe Aiken and another boy? 'Case Joe bought\na lot of peanuts, and t'other fellow dropt his ticket, and I picks\nit up. It was a New York ticket, and I hollers,\u2014\n\n   \"'\"Here, city bug, is your ticket\u2014'taint no good to me. I've had\nenough of that kind of livin'.\"\n\n   \"'It's no livin' at all, sir.'\n\n   \"This is all my clue, but it is all we need for the present. I trust\nthat the way will be opened to success, just as fast as I can get over\nthe ground. Dear friends, do not despair. God is our refuge and a very\npresent help. If you think best to come on to New York, meet me at\nthe Metropolitan; but unless you are too anxious to stay at home, it\nmay be as well to wait for Monday's message. I shall post this at the\nnext stopping place, hoping that you will get it tonight. I know your\nprayers are following me, and I have strong faith that I shall bring\nDuncan back with me.\n\n                               \"Yours,\n\n                                  \"L. N. MYERS.\"\n\nMonday evening another telegram came:\u2014\n\n   \"Be of good cheer\u2014we are on the right track.\"\n\nAnd two days later:\u2014\n\n   \"All right; look-out for us at 6 o'clock.\"\n\nIn telling Mr. McNair of the search, Dr. Myers said\u2014\n\n\"Judge, I brought your boy home; but I hate to tell you where I found\nhim. Your pure, innocent boy had a narrow escape. Some day I should\nlike to show him the Christian side of New York. He has seen enough of\nits dark side.\"\n\nFrom long residence and several years' practice of his profession in\nNew York, Dr. Myers knew much of the ins and outs of the city, and was\nprepared to follow up the slightest clue, and slight indeed that was.\nHe had taken the 10 o'clock express from Caryl, the same the boys had\ntravelled upon four days previous. As he was nearing the end of his\njourney, the thought occurred to him that possibly the conductor might\nremember the boys, and addressing that official upon his next round, he\nentered into conversation with him, and presently said\u2014\n\n\"I would like to ask if you noticed two boys travelling over this road\ntogether on Wednesday\u2014one a sandy-haired fellow, about fifteen years\nold, wearing an overcoat of the light shade so fashionable; the other a\nlittle older, with dark hair.\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember them,\" replied the conductor quickly; \"and I set\nthem down as runaways, too. Just before we got into the city, one of\nthem, the dark-haired one\u2014Joe, his companion called him\u2014asked me to\ndirect them to a respectable boarding-house, and I said, 'Boys, the\nbest boarding-house you can find is your own home.' I did hate to see\ntwo such boys going in there alone as strangers; but I directed them\nto what I knew to be a decent house. This is all I can tell you about\nthem. I conclude I guessed right, and they were runaways?\" continued\nthe man.\n\n\"Well, yes, they left home clandestinely. Will you give me the address\nyou gave them? Possibly it may be of service. Thank you. I hope they\nhave met with more of your sort to direct them to good places.\"\n\n\"May be,\" returned the man; \"but I am afraid some of the imps of Satan\nhave got hold of them before this.\" With which comforting remark, he\nmoved on.\n\n\nIt was 5 o'clock Saturday afternoon when Dr. Myers stepped from the\ncar, and taking a carriage, drove directly to the street and number\ngiven him by the conductor.\n\n\"Yes, two such boys had been there\u2014stayed one day and left, saying it\nwas too far up town. Didn't know where they went, or anything about\nthem. They paid their bill, and an expressman took their trunk.\"\n\nUndismayed, the doctor went to work; hunted up a detective, stated his\ncase, adding, \"Those boys are in the city, I feel sure\u2014they must be\nfound at any cost.\"\n\nThen he sought out Herbert Bradford. To him, he said,\u2014\n\n\"Herbert, your old friend Duncan is in this city, and I am looking for\nhim. It seems a hopeless search, but with God's blessing, success is\nsure. I want you to make it a subject of special prayer, that he may be\nrestored to his home at once.\"\n\n\nNeed we say that the Sabbath that followed was a day of much prayer?\nIndeed, Dr. Myers's life was a prayer\u2014whatever he did, wherever he\nwent, an earnest asking for God's presence and blessing attended his\nmovements. And now, as he walked the streets, gazing eagerly at every\nred-headed boy and every light overcoat, he repeated,\u2014\n\n   \"'Some trust in horses, some in chariots; but we will remember\nthe name of the Lord our God.'\"\n\n\nMonday afternoon, the officer appeared, saying,\u2014\n\n\"I think I have a clue, sir. They were with a party that went over\nthe river yesterday, and they are stopping at one of those dens on C\u2014\nStreet. I know the fellow that seems to be showing them around, and he\nis a hard one, too. But I reckon we'll get hold of them tonight.\"\n\nBut they did not \"get hold of them\" that night. Another twenty-four\nhours of anxious waiting and watching rolled away before Dr. Myers laid\nhis hand upon Duncan McNair's shoulder, and said, with unmistakable\nsincerity\u2014\n\n\"How are you, my boy? I'm glad to see you!\"\n\nProbably not even Judge McNair himself would have succeeded as well in\novercoming Duncan's unwillingness to go home; for although the foolish\nfellow had seen about enough of this wonderful city (no wonder, when he\nhad only seen the wicked side), he was yet loth to go back.\n\nAs for Joe, the doctor was armed with the necessary legal authority, a\nforesight of his father's, and for him, he had no choice; but as for\nDuncan, his hold upon him was stronger than more legal power; it was\nthe influence which a thoroughly good man and a boy-lover must ever\nexercise over boys like Duncan. As I have hinted before, Dr. Myers was\nhis hero and saint, and he had only to say, \"Duncan, I cannot go back\nwithout you. I promise you one thing, if matters do not go on well at\nhome, and you are not happy there, I will do all I can for your relief;\nbut now I want you to go with me,\" and Duncan went.\n\n\nOnce, as they neared home, Duncan ventured to say,\u2014\n\n\"Do they know\u2014people, I mean\u2014about my going off?\"\n\n\"I cannot say,\" returned the doctor. \"I came away so suddenly, but I\npresume it is not generally known; but you need not mind; you have only\nto say frankly that you were foolish and mistaken, and are sorry for\nit. That won't be very hard, will it?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Duncan slowly. \"But do you suppose Miss Wynn knows about\nit?\"\n\n\"Miss Wynn!\" repeated his friend with a puzzled expression. \"Why, of\ncourse she knows.\"\n\n\"I wish she didn't. She will be disappointed in me,\" said Duncan sadly.\n\"She will think it is a queer way to follow. Anyway, doctor, you won't\ntell her where you found me! I couldn't bear to have her know.\"\n\nOnce more, he referred to \"Miss Wynn\" in a way that puzzled the doctor,\nuntil a sudden light burst in upon him. He was about to speak, then\nchecked himself with the thought, \"I won't enlighten him. I shall\nrather enjoy his surprise; but how could he have made such a mistake?\"\n\nAt the junction where they changed cars, they were met by Mr. Aiken,\nwhom the doctor had summoned by telegraph, and who took his son in\ncharge, much to the relief of all.\n\nArriving at Westville, they were welcomed at the depot by Judge McNair,\nwho greeted his son as though he had just returned from an ordinary\njourney.\n\n\"Isn't father splendid?\" whispered Duncan to his friend in the\nmomentary absence of the judge. \"He seems just as glad to see me as if\nI were the best boy in the world.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" replied the doctor.\n\n\"You are to come home with us to tea, doctor,\" said the judge.\n\nJenny was watching, and flew out to meet them. Returning her kiss of\nwelcome, Duncan said,\u2014\n\n\"If you please, father, I'll run up to my room before I go into the\nparlour.\"\n\n\"Certainly; but don't be long. I presume tea is waiting.\"\n\nThe boy ran up-stairs, pushed open the door of his room, and was\ninside before he noted the strangeness of everything\u2014that is, almost\neverything. There was his familiar motto at the foot of the bed, and\nsome other familiar personal belongings. But there was fresh paper on\nthe walls, new curtains at the windows, and in place of the old torn\nmatting on the floor, there was a carpet soft to the foot and warm in\ncolours, an easy chair, and under the gas-light, a small table with\ncrimson cover, and upon it a handsomely-bound copy of the Book. A note\nlay beside it, which he picked up. It ran thus:\u2014\n\n   \"Mother and Jenny have been very happy in refitting the room for our\ndear Dunny. We hope he may be as happy in it. Here you can bring your\nfriends for quiet visits, or come alone for communion with the Friend\nwho is above and beyond any other friend.\"\n\nDuncan whistled.\n\n\"Well, now, that is nice; but I didn't suppose she cared anything about\nthat Friend. I thought folks who did showed it, and I never saw her at\nchurch in the world. Well, I promised Dr. Myers that I would try and\nmake the best of it, and I am going to. This is a jolly room, anyway!\"\nAs he turned to go down, his eye fell upon a little photograph of\nherself which Mabel had given him some time before, and he sighed, \"If\nit had only been her now!\"\n\nIn the parlour, Judge McNair had said, \"We have got our boy back again,\nand that must do for tonight. Some other time the doctor may tell his\nstory.\"\n\nAnd they were chatting of other things when Duncan entered. Rising and\npassing his arm around him, his father said,\u2014\n\n\"Duncan, will you welcome your mother as she welcomes you?\"\n\nThe bewildered boy looked from one to another, and gasped, \"Miss Wynn!\nMother! What\u2014why? Oh! Why didn't somebody tell me?\"\n\nAnd breaking from his father's embrace, he rushed from the room.\n\nTea waited some time that evening. There were explanations to be made,\nsoothing words to be spoken, and tears to be dried. It may be doubted\nif Dr. Myers enjoyed the surprise much after all, for he said,\u2014\n\n\"I am sorry, Duncan, that I did not correct your mistake; but I was not\nquite sure that you were in the dark. But how came you to make such a\nblunder? Whom did you suppose your father was to marry?\"\n\n\"I thought it was Miss Carver. The boys hinted at it a good while ago.\nBesides I thought\u2014you were going to marry Miss Wynn.\"\n\n\"Mistake number two,\" laughed the doctor. \"See here,\" drawing forward a\nlady whom Duncan had not noticed as making one of the group, \"this is\nthe future Mrs. Myers.\"\n\nThe lady was Lou Joslyn.\n\n\"But,\" persisted Jenny, \"I am sure, Dunny, we talked about it, and you\nmust have been told who it was.\"\n\n\"Yes, we talked about it, I know; but no one ever mentioned the name.\nI suppose,\" he added humbly and sadly, \"it all grew out of my getting\nangry and making a fuss before father finished his story.\" And turning\nto Dr. Myers, \"I know you told me once that my temper would play me a\nshabby trick some day.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nTHE INGATHERING.\n\n   \"Look again! the fields are whitening,\n      For the harvest time is near.\"\n\nAGAIN the Lord seemed about to bless his church at Westville in the\noutpouring of his Spirit, in deepening the experience of those already\nChrist's disciples, and in leading others to grasp his offered hand.\n\nThe week after Willy Loring's death, his sister Louise glided into the\nThursday evening prayer-meeting and took her place beside Mabel; again\nshe came; then she slipped into the young people's meeting, where she\nfound her voice to speak of the new hopes that were growing up in her\nheart out of the great peace that had fallen upon her life.\n\nNext Mr. Loring came to church with his daughter upon a Sabbath\nevening, much to the surprise of all who knew him, for he was one of\nthose who ignored religion in his life and conversation. But there\nhe sat listening to Mr. Earle's sermon. Now, had the good pastor\nknown that Mr. Loring was coming to church he would have preached a\nvery different sermon. However, the Lord must have known it; and as\nMr. Earle had both in public and in private asked the Lord whom they\nworshipped to take the direction of the day's services, it may be\nsupposed that it was just the sermon needed, especially as Mr. Loring\nafterwards remarked that it was that sermon which led him to think\nseriously upon the claims of Christ. He continued to attend church, and\none evening, he arose and said\u2014\n\n\"My friends and neighbours, you have known me for an irreligious and\nworldly man. I hope henceforth to be known as a humble disciple of\nChrist. I have much to learn. Bear with me if in weakness and ignorance\nI stumble, and pray that strength and wisdom may be given me.\"\n\nWhat a thrill ran through the little company met in sadness for prayer.\nIn sadness because Christ had seemed to withdraw from them, and lo! He\nwas here in their midst. What wonder that a voice took up the glad song\u2014\n\n   \"Thine, O God, be all the glory.\"\n\nThis was the beginning of a glorious revival. Night after night the\npeople came together\u2014Christians to pray and tell the wonderful story of\nChrist's love, and many came to listen; some who had heard the story\nagain and again without realising its meaning for them; to others,\nwho came drawn by curiosity, the story had almost the freshness of a\nnow and unread book. There were many who, hearing the Spirit's call,\nyielded at once, and quickly found their way into the kingdom, while\nothers hesitated upon the very threshold, drawn back by sin's strange\npower, and only entering after repeated struggles.\n\nThe whole church was awakened, ready and eager for work. Men stopped in\nthe street or gathered at the corners to talk of the meetings, to say\nhow the work was going on, to urge attention to the soul's interests,\nand to plan how best they might reach those yet outside the blessed\ninfluence. Women ran in to spend an hour in each other's parlours or\nkitchens, as the case might be, forgetting that there were such things\nas ruffles and ribbons, charades and tableaux, while their talk ran\nupon the love of Christ and the ways of doing his work.\n\nFor many weeks the people lived in an atmosphere of prayer, and there\nwas a glorious ingathering. The anxious teacher who had been waiting so\nlong for God's blessing upon her work hoped that now the time had come\nwhen the rest of her class should enter the Master's service. It seemed\nthat now when so many were entering in, these could not stay out; and\nyet, though she watched and prayed, there were no signs of their coming!\n\nDuncan had found the new home life very pleasant. No reproaches (except\nthose of his own conscience) had met him, and his visit to New York was\nscarcely referred to. For this, he endeavoured to show his gratitude by\nexemplary conduct. He refrained from grumbling with Jenny, and storming\nat Nancy when she forgot to keep his breakfast warm; he was oftener\nprompt in coming down to breakfast, in time for breakfast, in time for\nprayers; his reports from school were of a higher grade, and so marked\nwas the general improvement that Judge McNair said to his wife\u2014\n\n\"You have no idea how that boy has improved. I am quite hopeful that he\nwill turn out well.\"\n\n\"Are you?\" replied Mrs. McNair. \"I was never otherwise than hopeful of\nhim. But I am very anxious to see him a Christian. I cannot feel at all\nsatisfied with any improvement that falls short of that.\"\n\n\"Can't you persuade him to attend the meetings?\" asked her husband.\n\n\"I have thus far failed. If I understand his disposition, it will not\ndo to urge him very much\u2014that would drive him the other way. He always\nhas some excuse. I heard Jenny ask him tonight if he didn't want to go\nwith her and Julia Bradford, and he refused flatly.\"\n\nMr. McNair looked troubled, but quickly brightened, saying\u2014\n\n\"Well, there is One whose pleadings are more powerful than ours, and\nwho knows how to find a way into his heart. We will ask Him to come and\nplead with our boy.\"\n\nOh, what earnest prayers went up from those anxious and waiting hearts!\nAt that very hour, while these were praying for him, Duncan was in his\nroom. He had not had such a fit of ill-humor in a month. He had snapped\nat Jenny because she asked him to go to church; he had kicked his dog\nbecause of Jenny's suggestion of church, and growled at Nancy for the\nsame reason, and here he was snapping and growling at the walls or\nwindow curtains, without any earthly excuse for doing so.\n\nWhen his growls shaped themselves into words, he said, \"I won't go to\nmeeting! There! Everybody's at me about it. I can't walk along the\nstreet without hearing somebody say, 'Go to church tonight.' I think\nthe folks here might be satisfied with the new leaf I've turned over;\nbut it seems they are not. So they have got Jenny and Jule Bradford to\ndo a sharp thing. Now that's what I call a sharp dodge! I sha'n't go! I\nheard a man say to-day that there was no use in resisting. If a fellow\nonce got into one of those powerful meetings, he'd be carried right\nalong up to the gate of the kingdom in spite of himself. I don't want\nto go to heaven that way. When I get ready, I'll step in all by myself.\nMy! What would Joe say to the idea of my turning saint? I know just\nwhat he would say. He'd make use of his favorite\u2014; but his ugly words\nwouldn't sound well in this pretty room; with the old matting and dingy\nwalls they might have corresponded. It was a capital idea of the new\nmother's, fixing up this den. But as for those meetings, I won't go!\"\n\nDuncan had paused directly before the little table under the gas-light,\nand at that moment, he saw a bit of folded paper lying beside the Book.\nTaking it up, he read, \"Duncan, will you refuse Christ? It is his\ncall.\" Just at that moment the church bell began to toll, and to Duncan\nevery stroke was equivalent to the words, \"He calls!\" \"He calls!\"\n\nFor a moment he stood still, then he went swiftly down the stairs, took\nhis overcoat and cap from the hat-rack, and joined the group in the\nsitting room, who were putting on their wraps.\n\n\"Come, girls, hurry up, if you are going under my escort.\"\n\nCan you account for his sudden change of purpose? Does any one think\nit strange that the little note left there for him should attract his\nnotice just as the church bell was about to strike. Remember, they had\nbeen praying for him down-stairs, committing him into the hands of One\nwho understood his words and knew how to time the double call.\n\nDuncan knew very little about the character or order of the meetings.\nIf he thought about it at all, he supposed that they were going to a\npreaching service in the church, instead of which he found himself in\nthe lecture room and parlour adjoining. Dr. Myers came towards him, and\ntaking his hand in both his, said earnestly\u2014\n\n\"Duncan, I'm glad to see you here! Suppose you go into the parlour.\nYou'll find Mr. Earle there.\"\n\nNow Mr. Earle was the very last person in the world whom Duncan McNair\nwished to find just then; however, somewhat bewildered, he obeyed the\nsuggestion. As he entered, he heard Mr. Earle say, as in response to\nsome one who had been speaking\u2014\n\n\"Blessed news! Another wanderer brought home!\"\n\nThen, as he saw the newcomer, he continued\u2014\n\n\"Ah! Duncan, we've been waiting a long time for you. We are very glad\nyou've come at last. Will you take this seat?\" indicating a chair near\nhis own.\n\nThe boy went forward wondering. This was not at all his idea of a\nprayer-meeting. Both rooms were nearly filled.\n\nDeacon Griffin had charge of the meeting in the outer room. His father\nand mother, Dr. Myers, Mr. Clarke, and others, were there, singing\npraises and rendering thanks for the gifts already bestowed, seeking\nthe continued presence of the Spirit with its renewing power, and\nspeaking words of instruction and counsel to some of the young converts\nwho were there, ready to take up the Master's work, only asking to be\nshown how.\n\nIn the room where Duncan was seated were Willy and Helen Knapp,\nAlice Trafton and Mr. Trafton himself, besides many more of Duncan's\nschoolmates and acquaintances.\n\n\"'Well, Mr. Trafton,\" Mr. Earle said, turning back to continue the\ntalk Duncan's entrance had interrupted, \"I think you quite understand\nthe step you have taken. I hope that you will join the working force\nat once. We need you. If you will stop a minute after church, I have a\nhint to give you to start on. And so, Willy, you, too, have quite made\nup your mind to belong to Christ?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; but I don't know what to do.\"\n\n\"What to do,\" repeated Mr. Earle, smiling kindly. \"Why, my boy, you've\nnothing to do. Christ has done it all. He takes you just as you are.\nYou have but to trust in Him.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know,\" returned Willy. \"I don't mean just that. He has forgiven\nme and made me his own, and now I am different, I ought to live\ndifferent. I mean I don't know how I ought to live. It is just as you\nsaid, sir. I want to do something to please Jesus, but I don't see\nanything that I can do.\"\n\n\"I understand you now,\" Mr. Earle replied; \"and I think I can help\nyou. Suppose that to-morrow morning when you fill the wood-box and\nsweep the paths, or bring the pail of water, you go about it with the\nthought that it is the work Christ has given you to do, and do it\npromptly and cheerfully. I think the Saviour will be pleased with the\nservice. Then I suppose, like all school-boys, you like to play tricks\non your mates\u2014now, if you remember the rule Jesus gave, you will drop\nthe paper ball before you send it flying across the school-room, aiming\nat somebody's nose; you would not like to be in the place of that\nother boy, nor of the teacher. These are little things, but if you are\nfaithful, God may call you to do greater work for him. And how is it\nwith Helen?\" turning to the little girl.\n\n\"Oh, sir, I am very happy. I asked Jesus this morning to help me to be\ngood-natured this day, and I think he did. I told mother that Willy and\nI hoped we were Christians, and she said she was very glad, and she\nwished she was one herself. I am praying for her and for father.\"\n\n\"We will all pray for them. Well, Alice, there was a very sad-looking\nlittle girl sitting in that seat last evening; but I see a very happy\nface tonight. What has become of the sadness?\"\n\n\"It has all gone out of my heart, and that's the reason it don't show\nin my face, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Yes. Have you any idea what drove it out?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" Alice replied. \"I think it was Christ himself. I felt so\nbad last night that I cried all the while you were preaching. Helen\nsat with me, and she was so happy, and that made me more miserable. I\nthought I was left out. When I went home, I went straight to Henry's\nroom, and told him all about it. Then I knelt down by his chair, and he\nprayed for me, and I think Christ heard him, and that he has forgiven\nmy sins; and with the sin all washed out, I couldn't be sad, you know!\"\n\nDuncan listened in amazement. Here were these children, three or four\nyears younger than himself, rejoicing in sins forgiven, and starting\nout in the Christian life. When Alice spoke of her sins being forgiven,\nhe said to himself, \"Whew! If that little innocent puss had sins to\nforgive, what kind of a reckoning would I have?\"\n\nThere were others to testify for Christ, and some who had not yet heard\nthe sweet, gentle voice, saying, \"Fear not, I have redeemed thee.\"\nBehind Mr. Trafton sat a young man who was greatly agitated. While the\nrest were singing, Mr. Earle went over and sat beside him.\n\n\"Nicholas,\" he said, \"don't you find Christ yet?\"\n\n\"No,\" returned the young man, choking with emotion, \"I can't find Him,\nand if I could, I don't believe it would do any good. He wouldn't pay\nany attention to such a wicked fellow as I am.\"\n\n\"I'll agree to that, if you will find any account of his turning away\nfrom anybody.\"\n\n\"Are you sure He never turned anybody away?\" asked the poor fellow.\n\"May be they didn't tell of it.\"\n\n\"We have his word for it:\n\n   \"'Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.'\"\n\nAs Mr. Earle went on repeating the precious promises, Duncan leaned\nforward to see who he was talking to, and, to his utter astonishment,\ndiscovered that it was Nick Turner!\n\nHe began to take in some idea of the extent and power of the work that\nwas going on. True, he had heard many details, or might, if he had\nlistened to conversations that went on around him, but he had failed to\ncomprehend more than that there were meetings which a great many people\ncalled very interesting.\n\nHe felt something of the solemnity that rested upon all present, and\nwhen Mr. Earle knelt and prayed for Nick, he found himself wondering\nhow he should feel if it was himself that was being prayed for. He\nlistened eagerly to all that followed, until fearing he might become\ninterested in spite of himself, he resolutely set about turning his\nthoughts away from the place. Suddenly the bell rang out for the\npreaching services. Mr. Earle laid his hand upon Duncan's shoulder to\ndetain him, then, turning to Willy and Helen, he said\u2014\n\n\"If you feel so anxious about your parents becoming Christians, I\nsuppose you are willing to make some sacrifice for it. Are you not?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said Willy.\n\n\"I think so,\" Helen said thoughtfully.\n\n\"Well, suppose that to-morrow evening you two offer to stay with the\ntwo little ones, and let your father and mother come to the inquiry\nmeeting. Don't decide now, but think and pray about it. Good night.\"\n\nTo Duncan, \"Well, my boy, is your decision made?\"\n\n\"I haven't made any decisions lately,\" was the reply. \"I didn't even\ndecide to come here tonight.\"\n\n\"Ah! But since you are here you are not sorry?\"\n\n\"No\u2014I guess not.\"\n\n\"And you'll come again?\u2014Will you?\"\n\n\"I don't know\u2014perhaps I will.\"\n\n\"Duncan, will you, if God permits, meet me here at a quarter before six\nto-morrow evening? We shall be alone then, and I would like to have a\nlong talk with you. You may bring a friend if you like. Will you come?\"\n\nDuncan could not refuse, and gave his promise, which he wanted to take\nback the next minute. Mr. Earle's sermon that evening was a solemn\nappeal to the hearts of those who still refused Christ's invitation,\nand Duncan felt that the truths presented reached him\u2014he saw his guilt\nand danger\u2014indeed, I am not certain that he had not seen it before\u2014but\nhitherto he had been quite determined to resist for the present. Now\nhe was not so certain; perhaps it would be better to settle the matter\nnow, if he only could.\n\nIt was so awkward to start; he had made a good many remarks about the\n\"revival they were getting up,\" and it would seem queer to come around\nnow and join in with the rest. He couldn't do it. As yet, his class\nat the seminary had not been broken into; they all stood out firmly\nagainst the call, and he wouldn't be the one to break the ranks. But\nthen he had been to an inquiry meeting. What would they say to that?\nAnd he had promised to go again! Then, again, it might be, as Mr. Earle\nhad said, that this was his very last opportunity. He remembered Willy\nLoring, and thought, what if he had waited for this time! He began to\nsee where he stood, but was unwilling to take the step that would plant\nhim upon the rock.\n\n\nThe next day a spirit of insubordination ran through his class-room,\nand it was plain from what corner it emanated. Never had Duncan McNair\nseemed so full of fun and frolic. He was quite determined to forget and\nmake everybody else forget the position into which he had been led.\nLessons were failures, ridiculous notes and outrageous caricatures\nwere slyly handed about, causing subdued explosions of laughter. Had\nProfessor Mills had charge of that department, serious trouble must\nhave ensued; but Professor Harris understood the boys better than they\nunderstood themselves, and quietly watched and waited. Toward the\nclose of the day's session, Duncan captured a note intended for his\nneighbour, reading it with a flushed and angry face.\n\n\"I must prevent an outbreak there,\" thought the teacher. \"That boy has\nbeen in a state of excitement all day, and he won't stand much more.\"\n\nA little while after, he said\u2014\n\n\"McNair, I have discovered the error in your work. If you will stop a\nmoment and make the correction, we will overlook the mistake, as your\nstatement is correct.\"\n\nThen, when the work was done, \"Duncan, if it is not a breach of\nconfidence, will you tell me what was in that note that made you so\nangry at Clarence Golden?\"\n\n\"It was an insult to one of the best friends I have in the world,\"\nanswered the boy, flushing again. \"I'd fight any day for Dr. Myers's\nhonour, and Clarence knows it. I think he will keep out of my way, and\nhe'd better, too.\"\n\n\"Duncan, would you fight for your Saviour's honour?\" Receiving no\nreply, Professor Harris continued, \"Dr. Myers cannot be a better friend\nto you than Christ has been, and yet you do not hesitate to offer Him a\ngross insult, despising and rejecting his friendship, without which you\nare lost.\"\n\nThe conversation was not prolonged. There were others waiting to speak\nto the teacher, into whose ears he was sure to drop some word of\nwarning or encouragement. Duncan walked slowly home. All the fun and\nfrolic gone, his heart was burdened with a sense of his sin. It was\ntrue; all that Dr. Myers had done could not be compared with Christ's\nsacrifice.\n\nAnd yet that very day he had ridiculed Christians and scoffed at things\nthat belong to Christ's kingdom. How it all appeared to him now! Could\nhe hope for pardon\u2014might it not be too late? In his own room, he waited\nfor the hour which Mr. Earle had set for their interview, for which he\nwas now as anxious as he had been averse. Half-past four! An hour and a\nquarter to wait, when he was not sure of a minute. Inconsistent follow!\nYesterday he had scorned the idea of any help whatever, thinking to\nmake his way alone to the mercy-seat, when he should decide to start;\nand now he was depending entirely upon Mr. Earle. Why didn't he kneel\nright down there and give his heart to Jesus? This was the very thought\nwhich presently occurred to him.\n\nAnd when, an hour later, he met Mr. Earle, and that gentleman said,\nsmiling, \"Well, shall I talk to you, or you talk to me?\"\n\nHe replied\u2014\n\n\"I have not much to say, only to answer your question of last night as\nto the decision being made. I think, sir, that I have made it. I do not\nfeel sure that Christ has forgiven and received me, but I am very sure\nthat I want to be his.\"\n\nAgain the glad pastor said fervently, \"Thank God!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nALMOST WITHIN.\n\n   \"He called me once again,\n    Pleading that He had precious things to say.\"\n\nVERY soon after it became manifest that the Holy Spirit was in an\nespecial manner present with the people of Westville, the clerks from\nMr. Wynn's store began to drop into church after \"closing time,\" which\nwas perhaps half an hour before the dismissal. Soon one and another\ngot leave to go earlier, and at length, finding that almost everybody\nwent to church, the merchants entered into an agreement to close their\nplaces of business an hour earlier, that their employes might have the\nfull benefit of the extra services. The interest among that class of\nyoung men was very general.\n\nIf Mr. Wynn had found it inconvenient to have one earnest Christian\nclerk in his employ, he was likely to have more trouble of the same\nsort, for five out of his six clerks came out squarely for Christ. The\nsixth was Perry Morse. Like the rest he had gone regularly to church,\nand listened with deep interest to the preaching. Like the rest he had\nheard the call to forsake sin and follow Christ. For many days he was\ngrave and thoughtful; he slipped into the inquiry meetings, and once in\nthe congregation, he spoke of his desire to become a disciple of Jesus\nChrist. One evening in particular he was deeply impressed. Mr. Earle\nhad a long conversation with him, saying afterward to Dr. Myers\u2014\n\n\"That boy seems almost ready to step in, yet there is something holding\nhim back. If I could only get at it! It will be a sad thing if he comes\nso near only to draw back.\"\n\nSince that first evening when Perry went with Nick Turner to Murphy's\nsaloon, he had gone steadily downward, not swiftly\u2014he was too cautious\nfor that\u2014but surely. He had found the allurements of that glittering\ntrap of Satan's quite too strong to be passed over and resisted. He had\nlong been a frequent visitor, and cards and wine had grown as familiar\nto him as anything connected with his home life, and the excitement of\nthe one and the stimulus of the other seemed almost necessary to his\nexistence. But now for a little time he had withdrawn from this haunt,\nand was apparently giving his whole thought to the work of seeking\nGod's favour. Still days passed, and he held back. Nick Turner, his old\ncrony, had forsaken the path they had been walking together, and now he\nwas trying to persuade Perry to turn from it altogether.\n\n\"I can never forget,\" he said, \"that I was the one to lead you into\nsin. If I could only undo it all. Perry, won't you break off and come\nwith us?\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't mind that sort of thing much,\" replied Perry. \"You need\nnot feel any remorse about it. Doubtless I should have found my way\nthere some time. Besides, I can assure you, Nick, it is something else\nthat keeps me from becoming a Christian. There is something stronger\nthan the attractions of Murphy's saloon that holds me back. There,\ndon't ask\u2014you won't find out. I thought I'd tell you, that you needn't\nbe fretting over your share in the work, if I go to the bad wholly.\"\n\nWhen Mr. Earle asked, \"Perry, could you give up evil associates, strong\ndrink, and gambling?\" Perry winced slightly at the plain words, but\nanswered very decidedly\u2014\n\n\"Yes, sir. I've got past that. The very thought of those things is a\nhorror to me. But\u2014there are other things in the way.\"\n\n\"Do you imagine that there will ever come a time when the way will seem\nperfectly clear?\" asked the pastor.\n\n\"Perhaps not; but if I could got around one or two things it wouldn't\nbe so hard; but I can't get around them. I'd have to go right through.\"\n\n\"Perry, there is nothing it would not be worthwhile to give up\u2014no duty\ntoo hard, no cross too heavy, for the sake of God's favour. Don't let\nanything keep you from grasping the hand that Christ holds out to you.\nAnd let me tell you that the very things you dread will seem very\ndifferent to you when the cloud of God's displeasure is lifted, and you\nwalk in the sunlight of sin forgiven.\"\n\n\"I can't do it, Mr. Earle. I want to be a Christian, I surely do, but\nI'm afraid I can't. No matter\u2014don't think any more about me. Work and\npray for somebody else, and let me go.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Mr. Earle, \"we can't let you go. You will not be so\nfoolish. Whatever your stumbling block may be, Christ will help you to\npass it\u2014only ask Him to help you.\"\n\nPerry went home and spent a night of conflict. It did seem that there\nnever were so many things to hinder a boy from coming to Christ. Satan\ncontested every step of the way. Perry had gained many points, but\nhere was this thing, the something that Mr. Earle could not come at.\nIt loomed up before him, darkened the way, seeming to shut him out of\nheaven. To be sure there was a way through it, as he said. It was right\nthrough it. But could he do it?\n\nCould he go to Mr. Wynn and tell him that a year ago when he had charge\nof the books for a few days, during the brief illness of Morris Clarke,\nhe had made false entries to cover up a theft he had committed? It was\na small sum, and apparently had never been missed; and he had almost\nforgotten it himself, until now his quickened and tender conscience\nkept it continually before him. The money went, with a great deal more,\nto pay gambling debts. Doubtless his father would replace it, but, of\ncourse, dismissal would follow disclosure. And this wasn't all. While\ntreasurer of the Sunday-school missionary society he had used some of\nthe funds intrusted to him. If he could only quietly refund this money\nand the other, and have no noise made about it!\u2014but this thought gave\nhim no comfort.\n\nIn the first place, he could not very well do it; and besides he felt\nthat God required that he should confess his sin\u2014and here was his\nstumbling block. Here he halted, as we have said, for days. Thinking it\nover and over, he remembered Mr. Earle's earnest:\n\n   \"Don't let anything keep you from Christ.\"\n\nAnd finally he resolved, hard as it would be, that he would go to Mr.\nWynn the first thing in the morning and tell him the story and accept\nthe consequences. Now it never occurred to him that as a Christian\nman, Mr. Wynn was bound to forgive a repenting brother, and unite his\nown prayers with his for the forgiveness of a holy God. Of course it\ndidn't! Mr. Wynn's life was not calculated to awaken any such thought.\nA man to whom business and religion are entirely distinct affairs is\nlikely to have a great deal of the one and very little of the other,\nand to be the last person who would kneel down in his private office\nand pray for an erring clerk. So Perry made up his mind to face his\nanger; at least he thought he made it up; but he forgot to plead with\nChrist for help that his steps should not falter, that his courage\nmight not fail, that Satan might be restrained from throwing any\nfurther hindrances in his path.\n\nHe went down to breakfast and drank his coffee in silence, until Mr.\nMorse addressed him\u2014\n\n\"Perry, have you ever spoken to any one about that black horse that I\nsold to Davis? I mean about any defect in him.\"\n\n\"No, sir, I think not,\" replied Perry, wondering.\n\nMrs. Morse laughed as she said\u2014\n\n\"I don't think you needed to ask that question. Did you ever in your\nlife know Perry to acknowledge that anything he had an interest in was\nnot quite perfect?\"\n\n\"I know he is a great boaster of his own perfections,\" replied the\nfather. \"I shouldn't wonder though if somebody might find a flaw or two\nin him if they looked sharp. Eh, Perry! But about the horse. It will be\njust as well if you don't know anything about it. Understand?\"\n\n\"Not quite. Why?\"\n\n\"Nothing, only Davis threatens to sue for damages, so I hear. He asked\nno questions about the horse, and I wasn't bound to tell all I knew\nunless asked. That's what Lawyer Bradford says. Davis had known the\nhorse longer than I had. It was raised within two or three miles of\nhis place. If he should make a fuss, it would be as well if you know\nnothing about it.\"\n\n\"Of course, you wouldn't want Perry to tell a downright lie about it,\"\nsaid Mrs. Morse; and little Charlie wondered if downright lies were any\ndifferent from other lies.\n\n\"Why, no\u2014certainly not. But he never drove the horse\u2014what can he know?\nI'll trust him to get around it. Of course if he should have to come\nupon the stand and testify, he would have to tell the truth about it.\nBut if he don't know anything about it, he will not be likely to be\ncalled upon.\"\n\nPerry wondered if a lie in the court-room was really so much worse\nthan a lie in somebody's parlour or breakfast-room; but then Perry's\nconscience was tender just then.\n\nPerry's resolution had not gained strength by this little conversation,\nand his father's hint at his own possible imperfections disturbed him\nsomewhat. What would he say when he knew all? Oh, if Perry's father had\nlived nearer to Christ, and if Perry had gone first to him with his\nconfession! He was walking straight on toward the private office where\nhe expected to meet Mr. Wynn, when he was stopped by that gentlemen.\n\n\"Morse, see here\u2014some goods belonging to your department have just\ncome in. I want to show them to you. There\u2014aren't those beauties?\"\ndisplaying some laces. \"Now see if you can tell the difference. Is\nthere any?\"\n\n\"I should be a dull scholar not to have profited by the lesson you gave\nme on laces,\" returned Perry, smiling; \"but the imitation is so like\nthe real that I am almost afraid to call it so.\"\n\n\"Just so! Just so!\" said Mr. Wynn. \"Now, Morse, I am going to take a\nset of these up to Mrs. Wynn, and when you show the others you can say\nthat Mrs. Wynn has a set like them\u2014they are very like, you see. And you\nunderstand, you are not to show them both to the same customers. Mrs.\nGolden or Mrs. Amesbury would detect a difference very quick, but Mrs.\nLongseam would never know whether she paid ten dollars for a collar\nexactly like Mrs. Wynn's or not. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I understand,\" said the clerk to his employer; then as that\nindividual turned away, he continued to himself, \"I quite understand\nthat it is no worse for me to take twenty-five dollars of your money\nthan for you to take ten dollars from a poor woman for an article\nthat isn't worth five, because she never will know any better. Yes, I\nunderstand. You and father call yourselves Christians, and I don't know\nas it will pay for me to humble myself for the sake of being like you,\nand I sha'n't do it. My secret is safe now, and I'll keep it. I'd like\nto know how Lester, and Clarke, and all the rest of them, are going to\nget along here. I can tell them that religion hasn't any chance for\na foothold in this store. They'll have to give in at last; then they\nwon't be any better off than I am.\"\n\nA customer interrupted this one-sided talk, and he had no farther\nopportunity for meditation during the day. Indeed he would have avoided\nanything of the sort. He said he had \"stopped thinking; he guessed it\nwould do as well to let things slide along;\" and by way of doing his\npart, he did not go near the church that evening, but went back to\nMurphy's, and reeled home toward midnight with just sense enough left\nto remember his broken resolutions.\n\nAs he kicked off his boots and groped about for a match, he muttered,\n\"Well, this is different from last evening! And to think that all my\nhard work to bring myself up to the confessing point has just ended\nin smoke! Everything knocked over by the wonderful consistency of two\nchurch members! Well, if it hadn't been for father and Mr. Wynn, I\nshould have spent this evening differently, I presume. Humph! I guess\nso! For all I know I might have spent it in jail. Mr. Wynn would have\nbeen as likely to take that course as any other. My! What a mountain\nI made of it last night! It wasn't such a great affair, after all. I\nhave done extra work enough to earn that money a dozen times over; and\nas for religion, I don't want the kind that some folks have, and in my\nposition, I couldn't very well manage any other. Heigh ho! I'm sick of\nWestville. I wish I had Herbert's chance in New York. He is a lucky\ndog. It was dull at Murphy's without Nick. I must try to coax him back.\"\n\nWith which resolve Perry tumbled into bed and snored off into a stupid\nsleep that lasted so long that he was late at the store, and Mr. Wynn\nwondered \"how much longer those meetings were to be kept up. The\nexcitement was spoiling the clerks. He had given them their evenings,\nand now they took the mornings of their own accord.\"\n\n\"Who takes?\" asked Morris Clarke, respectfully. \"I cannot remember that\nany of us have been late before for a month. I can assure you, Mr.\nWynn, that the meetings don't make a fellow into, and they do help one\nto do better work; and as for excitement, there is very little of that\nelement.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" returned Mr. Wynn, \"I never yet knew a person to acknowledge that\nhe was excited.\"\n\n\"But, Mr. Wynn,\" said young Lester, \"don't you approve of such things?\nI thought you were a member of Mr. Earle's church.\"\n\n\"So I am. But, my boy, it does not follow that I indorse all of Mr.\nEarle's measures.\"\n\n\"It seems to me,\" said Morris Clarke, \"that these meetings are the\nLord's measures.\"\n\n\"Well, well, doubtless you think so. I only hope they won't infringe\nupon business. 'Diligent in business,' you know, is just as much a\ncommand as a great many other passages that much stress is put upon.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. And, Mr. Wynn, that is just what we boys mean to be. We have\ndecided for Christ, and we find it to be a part of our Christian duty\nto do our very best at whatever we are set about, and we promise to be\nfaithful to your interests. In our inexperience, we shall doubtless\nmake missteps in trying to follow Christ, but we hope that you will\nbear with us, and out of your longer experience in Christian living\nshow us when we go wrong.\"\n\nIf Morris Clarke had meant to be sarcastic, he could scarcely have\ndone better than in this last remark. Mr. Wynn show young disciples\nhow to walk! And yet he was sincerely glad that these young men were\nconverted. If only they would not be over-zealous, and this was what he\nsaid, stammering a little. Religious conversation was not easy for him.\n\n\"Well, boys, I am glad that\u2014to know\u2014to hear \u2014it is a very good thing to\nstart while you are young. I hope you will all hold out. I'm very glad.\nBut I want to warn you against fanaticism\u2014a quiet, even sort of thing\nis what I like in religion. Yes, I am very glad.\"\n\nPerry Morse stood a little apart during this talk, and as Mr. Wynn\nmoved away he said, following him\u2014\n\n\"Sir, I didn't go to church last night. I wasn't well this morning.\nThat's how I was late.\"\n\n\"Never mind. I was a little worried over a missing letter, and spoke\na little sharper than I intended. But how is it that you didn't go to\nchurch? Aren't you one of them?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"Ah, better go with the rest, Perry. Little as I approve of what are\ncalled revival meetings, I would not for the world hinder any one from\nbecoming a Christian.\"\n\n\"You've hindered me,\" thought Perry as he went forward to show the\nlaces to a wealthy customer.\n\nAnd so Perry Morse drew back. His father wondered why it was that in\nthis ingathering his son was left out, and as months went by, Mr. Wynn\ncomplained of Perry's dissipated habits, and neither of them dreamed\nhow near he had come to the gate of the kingdom, nor suspected that\nthey had helped to turn him back to indifference and sin.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nTROUBLES.\n\n   \"I dared not look on the long way before;\n    I dared not look on the dark way behind.\"\n\nSix months later, Judge McNair and his wife were dining at the Wynn\nmansion. Mrs. Wynn had exquisite taste, and also plenty of money at\nher command: consequently the finishing and furnishing of that dining\nroom was a rare combination of beauty and comfort. The hangings were\nof the palest of green tints, the carpet wonderfully like the rich\nmoss into which our feet sink in our summer rambles, the pictures few\nand appropriate, the chairs of a graceful pattern; flowers filled one\nwindow with colour and the room with delicate fragrance, while an open\nfire at the farther end dispelled the chill and gloom of a November\nday. The table appointments were perfect, and the cook had done her\npart well.\n\nThere was no extra display\u2014the daughter of the house had come to spend\nthe day with her mother, and the judge had been invited to an informal\ndinner. No doubt they ought to have been very bright and happy, all of\nthem. Mabel and her mother had passed a very cheery morning, and Judge\nMcNair came in smiling and genial as ever; but the host wore a vexed\nand pained expression, which did not altogether pass off as the dinner\nprogressed. When they came to the wine, which, as usual, Mabel and her\nhusband declined, Mr. Wynn said\u2014\n\n\"I believe you are right, judge. If I had a boy, I'd do the same.\"\n\n\"But, father,\" said Mabel, \"you have young men in your employ.\"\n\n\"I'm not responsible for my clerks' habits,\" Mr. Wynn returned; \"and,\nbesides, they don't sit at my table.\"\n\n\"I have no doubt but that they perfectly understand your views and\npractices on the temperance question, though they never saw you take a\nglass of wine; but, father, it seems to me that you are to a certain\ndegree responsible for them.\"\n\n\"I hope not,\" he answered quickly. \"I don't want to be held responsible\nfor Perry Morse's dishonesty, which has just come to light. I declare I\ndon't know when I have been so sorry for anybody as for Mr. Morse; but\nI couldn't help it, I had to discharge him.\"\n\n\"Why, Mabel!\" said Mrs. Wynn. \"He was one of your famous boys, wasn't\nhe?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Mabel sadly.\n\n\"Humph! I wonder you didn't instil in him some of the first principles\nof honour,\" growled Mr. Wynn.\n\n\"You mean,\" returned Mabel, with a touch of sarcasm, \"you wonder why I\ndidn't teach him the happy medium. It seems there is one. Queer that\nHerbert should have been discharged for being too strict, and Perry\nMorse for being too loose.\"\n\n\"Herbert Bradford was discharged for disobeying orders; but Perry Morse\nwas sent adrift because he is a drunkard and a gambler, and took my\nmoney to pay his gambling debts. If his father had not been an old\nfriend, I'd have lodged the boy in jail, and I am not sure that I\nshould not have been more in the way of duty if I had done so.\"\n\n\"Give him another chance,\" said Judge McNair quietly.\n\n\"Another chance at the money-drawer?\" Mr. Wynn asked, laughing. \"No, I\ncan't do it. Morse must find some other berth for his scapegrace; but I\nam really sorry for them. I declare,\" turning to his daughter, \"I don't\nsee how you happened to make a failure of him. I thought all those boys\nwere going to turn out paragons. It seems that Perry was too much for\nyou, eh?\"\n\n\"I do not give Perry Morse up for lost yet,\" returned Mabel. \"The\nfreshness and purity of his boyhood may be sadly marred, but he may\nmake a good and useful man. I have worked hard for him, but Satan has\nbeen busy too.\"\n\n\"Do you know what Morse thinks of doing with him?\" asked the judge.\n\n\"No; he spoke of his brother's establishment near Dunkirk, and thought\nperhaps he would take him.\"\n\n\"What is the business?\" asked his wife.\n\n\"Manufacturing leather\u2014in other words, a tannery.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that Mr. Morse would be so unwise as to set a boy of\nPerry's peculiar tastes and temperament to work at that disagreeable\nbusiness?\" exclaimed Mabel.\n\n\"Why not?\" returned Mr. Wynn. \"I presume you would prefer the odour of\nhides and tan-bark to that of whisky. Anyway, the fellow wants bringing\ndown.\"\n\n\"I don't think so. He needs lifting up. He is a proud, fastidious\nfellow. I dare say you would never find him at Smith's den around the\ncorner, nor over the railroad at Bacon's, but always at Murphy's, where\nSatan takes especial pains to be agreeable and fascinating to boys of\nPerry's stamp. He would never have become a drunkard, if he had been\nforced to buy his liquor at Smith's. He will rebel against any such\nplan as you suggest.\"\n\n\"But, Mabel, don't you see that he has forfeited all claim to a\nconsideration of his tastes and inclinations?\"\n\n\"No, I don't see. Doubtless he has gone very far astray; but I don't\nfeel at all sure that he may not be reclaimed, and under proper\ninfluences led into the right way.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you mean by proper influences,\" retorted Mr. Wynn.\n\"His father and mother, as you know, are Christian people, and I have\nno doubt have tried to train their son up in the way he should go.\"\n\n\"Unfortunately Christian people sometimes make sad mistakes, and Perry\nis one of those persons who are sharp to detect inconsistencies in the\nlives of professing Christians, and turn them to account in excusing\ntheir own faults. I can't help thinking that if the atmosphere of his\nhome had been more truly Christian, if love to Christ had been the\nruling motive in every day's affairs, if the life, the labour, and the\nconversation had been of and for Jesus, Perry Morse might have turned\nout differently. That's what I mean by proper influences. Influences\nthat lead to Christ, not away from Him. It would be very far from\nmy intention or desire to judge Mr. and Mrs. Morse,\" continued Mrs.\nMcNair; \"but we all know what has been the tenor of their walk and\nconversation, and only the faithful are sure of the promises.\"\n\n\"Well, all I have got to say about it,\" returned Mr. Wynn, \"is that the\nfellow has been taught at home and at church better than he has done,\nand his common sense might have told him that the way he has been going\non must lead to ruin first or last. The scamp has only himself to blame\nas I can see.\"\n\n\"Now, if we allow that (which I do not), suppose one should give him a\nchance to thank somebody for a helping hand, so that he gets back to\na safe path, wouldn't it be better than letting him go on down hill,\nbecause it is his own fault that he started?\"\n\n\"It might be, if he showed any signs of wanting to turn about; but I\ncan tell you, my dear, coaxing won't do any good in his case, he is too\nhardened.\"\n\nMabel said no more, but her thoughts were busy while her father and Mr.\nMcNair branched off upon a less painful topic.\n\nMeanwhile Perry, sullen and defiant, listened to his father's\nreproaches, which were neither few nor mild.\n\n\"To think that a son of mine should be a drunkard! A man of my position\nin both business and religious circles! Young man, it is positively\noutrageous!\"\n\n\"Father,\" said Perry, with a sneer, \"I wouldn't find so much fault with\nmy own work if I were you. If I am a drunkard, you made me one.\"\n\n\"I made you one! What an abominable story to invent! Pray tell me how\nI, a temperance man, succeeded so admirably in the work you credit me\nwith.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you mean by being a 'temperance man;' but I do know\nthat when Mr. Spencer was here lecturing upon temperance, he one Sunday\nspoke to the Sunday-school, and after he had spoken a while, he asked\nall who would promise to abstain from intoxicating drink to rise.\nAlmost everybody in the church rose, and I was just going to get up\nwith the rest of our class, when I looked over and saw you keeping your\nseat, and I thought that if you didn't think such a pledge was right\nfor you, of course it wouldn't be for me. And that is how I came to be\na drunkard, sir! If I had taken that pledge, I should have kept it.\"\n\nFor a moment Mr. Morse was confounded, but recovering himself, he said\u2014\n\n\"Of course that is nonsense, Perry. You know very well that I do\nnot believe in total abstinence pledges, but that I do believe in\ntemperance. There is a vast difference between an occasional glass\nof wine, or even an habitual glass, and this drinking to excess,\nfrequenting saloons, and being brought home dead drunk.\"\n\n\"Won't you please to tell me how a fellow is going to know just where\ntemperance ends and intemperance begins?\" asked Perry, in a sarcastic\ntone.\n\n\"I should think you had tried the experiment times enough to find out\nfor yourself,\" retorted his father sharply.\n\n\"I reckon you'll have some trouble to lay the rest of your confounded\nfollies upon my shoulders,\" he said, after a pause. \"You can't accuse\nme of training you in the art of gambling. I never played a game of\ncards in my life\u2014or stole a dollar,\" he added bitterly.\n\n\"Perhaps not,\" returned the boy, stung to madness. \"But who bet fifty\ndollars on the election last fall? And maybe cheating isn't stealing,\nbut\u2014\"\n\n\"Perry!\" exclaimed Mrs. Morse. \"Won't you stop? I cannot endure it.\"\n\nPerry turned toward the pale little woman who, exhausted with grief,\nlay upon the lounge listening to this talk.\n\n\"Yes, mother, I will stop; but isn't it hard to be reproached for\nlearning a lesson too well?\"\n\nI think Mr. Morse had it in his heart to strike his son to the floor,\nbut he restrained himself, remembering his plan, which would bring a\nsweeter revenge, and to Perry a more bitter punishment.\n\n\"You'll soon be under another teacher, young man,\" he said quietly.\n\"I have just written to brother John, and if he will take you, I'll\napprentice you to him for the next two years.\"\n\n\"Father!\" exclaimed Perry, in utter dismay. \"You won't do that?\"\n\n\"I will do just that!\"\n\n\"I will never go there.\"\n\n\"We shall see.\"\n\n\"But, father, you are not in earnest? I'd sooner die.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, people are not so ready to die. And pray what objection have\nyou to my plan? I should suppose you would be glad to hide yourself\nsomewhere.\"\n\n\"Not in a tan-vat!\" said Perry. \"Father, I don't like the business\u2014that\nis my objection.\"\n\n\"Of course it is a coming down; but remember, you brought yourself\ndown.\"\n\n\"But it is such dirty work.\"\n\n\"Afraid of dirt, eh? Perry, you are too proud for your present\nposition. If I were you, I'd be thankful for any work that is\nrespectable, and not mind if it is not as\u2014\"\n\n\"I'm not afraid of dirt, but I hate it; and as for pride, I'll prove\nto you it is not that, by doing any kind of clean work, even if it is\nsawing wood. But I never will go into Uncle John's tannery.\"\n\nMr. Morse repeated his cool \"We shall see,\" and left the room. Mrs.\nMorse said\u2014\n\n\"You'd better not oppose your father now. He feels your fall into sin\nvery deeply. Perhaps he will be more yielding after a little while.\"\n\n\"It isn't so much the sin that he cares about as the disgrace,\" said\nPerry. \"I tell you, mother, if I had not gone so far, it would have\nbeen all right. A gentleman tippler, a parlour gamester, a sharp\nmoney-getter\u2014these pass muster.\"\n\n\"My son, you are unreasonably bitter toward your father.\"\n\n\"And isn't he unreasonably bitter toward me?\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know, I don't know,\" moaned the poor woman; \"but don't\nquarrel. I can't bear it. Oh, Perry, how could you go so wrong? You\ncertainly have been taught better.\"\n\n\"Yes, mother, I have had a mixed sort of education; and, unfortunately,\nI found some of the lessons easier than others. But, after all, I think\nyou and father are making a great fuss about something that happens\nevery day. I've done no more than half a dozen rich men's sons that I\ncould name.\"\n\nThe poor mother turned her face to the wall; she did not know what\nto say to her boy; she only partly understood him, but she began to\nrealise faintly that there had been a fault in his training, that the\nseed which had brought such bitter fruit might have been of their own\nsowing. Unconsciously and ignorantly on her part the evil had been\nwrought; but was she not to blame for this very unconsciousness and\nignorance? Alas! She had followed Christ afar off, and so her children\nhad failed to see manifested in her life the beauty of holiness. And,\ntoo, now in her troubles, her Saviour seemed afar off, so far that she\ncould not carry her grief to Him, and she had no strength to call out\nthat He might hear and draw nigh. Poor mother!\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nA BATCH OF LETTERS.\n\n   \"How many lives made beautiful and sweet\n    By self-devotion and by self-restraint!\"\n\nTHAT which they said of Perry Morse was true. He had been brought home\ndead drunk; he had neglected his business and taken his employer's\nmoney to pay his gambling debts, and he was only seventeen! The\nreproaches which his father had heaped upon him had roused a spirit of\ndefiance and stubbornness; yet he was not altogether hardened, as was\nshown by the tears he shed over a note he received the next morning. It\nran thus:\n\n   \"DEAR PERRY:\u2014Could you come and see me a little while this afternoon? I\nwould like to have a little quiet talk and consultation upon a matter\nof interest to you, and think that we may have a better chance to be\nalone here. Shall we say at three o'clock?\n\n                          \"Your friend,\n\n                                 \"MABEL MCNAIR.\"\n\nBut Perry found himself unable to accept this invitation. The course\nhe had been pursuing had undermined his health, and the excitement and\nshame of the last day or two had quite used up his strength. He lay\nupon the lounge, with throbbing head and fever pulse. By the following\nmorning, Mrs. Morse was thoroughly alarmed, and would have a physician.\n\nMr. Morse said, \"Very well. If you are anxious, I'll send up Dr.\nMaxwell.\"\n\n\"I don't want Dr. Maxwell,\" said Perry, overhearing the remark. \"I'll\nhave Dr. Myers, if anybody. Dr. Max. is fussy.\"\n\n\"Well, you won't have Dr. Myers, I can assure you,\" replied Mr. Morse.\n\n\"Dr. Maxwell is our family physician,\" said Mrs. Morse soothingly. \"It\nwould not be treating him well to call any one else.\"\n\n\"I don't know why,\" said Perry. \"If I like Dr. Myers better, I should\nthink I might have him.\"\n\n\"The things you like don't always happen to be the best,\" replied Mr.\nMorse significantly, as he closed the door after him.\n\nAn hour after this, Dr. Maxwell made his visit. He found his patient\nsullen and silent. Surprised, he turned to the mother for an\nexplanation.\n\nEmbarrassed and pained, Mrs. Morse said hesitatingly, \"The truth is,\nPerry took a freak into his head to want Dr. Myers, and I have not been\nable to reason it out of him.\"\n\n\"Of course not,\" returned the kindly old doctor. \"He is not in a state\nto be reasoned with. Why in the world wasn't Dr. Myers called?\"\n\n\"Why, you know you are our family physician, and Mr. Morse did not\nthink it would be right to employ any one else,\" replied Mrs. Morse,\nconscious that she was telling only half the truth.\n\n\"Fudge! That's being over particular. I'm too old a man to be jealous\nor troubled by any such thing. I'll send Dr. Myers up myself,\" said the\ndoctor, rising to go.\n\n\"Oh, no, don't do that; at least, not until you have seen Mr.\nMorse\u2014I\u2014he\u2014well, I think my husband does not quite approve Dr. Myers.\"\n\n\"Well, I do, but I'll see Morse. Good morning.\"\n\nMr. Morse was surprised and a little alarmed when Dr. Maxwell entered\nhis store that morning.\n\n\"See here, Morse,\" began the visitor, \"you made a mistake. I wasn't\nwanted up at your house.\"\n\n\"Just as I thought,\" returned Mr. Morse, \"but my wife is nervous and\neasily alarmed, and I called you to pacify her.\"\n\n\"Not that, not that,\" said the doctor quickly. \"There's need enough of\na physician's service, but I am not the one to help the boy. It seems\nhe wants Dr. Myers, and he is the man to go to. I was going to send him\nup myself, but your wife thought I'd better see you first.\"\n\n\"I do not employ Dr. Myers,\" said Mr. Morse, with emphasis. \"I have\nconfidence in your skill and am satisfied to trust him with you.\"\n\n\"Thank you, but it won't do. The boy is in no state to be reasoned with\nor crossed; he wants Dr. Myers, and Dr. Myers he must have.\"\n\n\"But I tell you I won't have him.\"\n\n\"Not when I assure you that I consider him a perfectly reliable\nphysician, and that I would trust my own son with him?\"\n\n\"Not even upon that assurance.\"\n\nThe good old man was puzzled and troubled, too. After a brief silence,\nhe said slowly\u2014\n\n\"Mr. Morse, I do not understand you. You and Dr. Myers are members\nof the same church, and yet you seem to hold bitterness toward him.\nI do not understand that. Further than this, you will let your son\ndie, perhaps, for lack of the help which the man you dislike can give,\nbecause you happen to dislike him. I do not understand that. I did not\nprescribe for your son, and I shall not. It is of no use. He must be\nsoothed and quieted. My visit was an injury to him. But of course you\nmust do as you think proper. Good morning.\"\n\nTurning back from the door, Dr. Maxwell added, \"If it would be a\nsatisfaction to you, I will agree to call often enough to watch the\nprogress the disease is making, and will counsel with the doctor. But\nsomething must be done at once.\"\n\nThough Mr. Morse was becoming alarmed by the doctor's earnestness, he\nretained his almost surly manner as he replied, \"Well, I have placed\nhim in your care. If you prescribe a heavy dose of Dr. Myers, I suppose\nwe shall have to submit, however unpleasant.\"\n\nDr. Maxwell found his friend just returned from his morning round of\ncalls, and he was soon sitting beside the sick boy, holding his burning\nhand in his own cool one, while he spoke gentle soothing words.\n\nFor a few days fever and delirium raged, then came a slow\nconvalescence. Dr. Myers came often, and sat long beside his patient\ntrying to cheer him and drive away a gloom that hung over him. Perry\nrarely smiled; his mood seemed between sullenness and despair. One day\nthe doctor said\u2014\n\n\"Perry, my boy, you don't gain as fast as I wish you did. You must try\nto cheer up; it is low spirits that keeps you back.\"\n\n\"There is always something keeping me back,\" returned Perry.\n\n\"Supposing you were to break loose and take a fresh start. Which is it?\nAre you brooding over the past, or dreading the future?\"\n\n\"Both.\"\n\n\"Well, you can't undo the past, but you know how it can be wiped out.\"\n\nPerry looked up inquiringly.\n\n\"The blood of Christ,\" said the doctor softly.\n\nPerry shook his head.\n\n\"True, some of the consequences of sin must follow you, but your future\nwill be very much what you make it.\"\n\n\"No, it won't. It will be just what father makes it,\" said Perry\nbitterly.\n\n\"Outwardly, perhaps so; but that need not affect the real, the inner\nlife. True living is of the soul, and, Perry, if you would cease to\nwork against Christ, and begin working with and for Him, then you would\nbegin to live. Don't waste these hours of quiet in useless regrets and\nmiserable forebodings, but go to Jesus with all your burden of sin,\ntake the pardon that awaits you, and leave the future with Him. Can't\nyou do this?\"\n\nPerry again shook his head. \"I don't mind telling you,\" he said, \"that\nI am sorry for the past, and I would like to be different, but it is of\nno use to try; they won't give me a chance.\"\n\nThis is only a bit of that talk. To all Dr. Myers's arguments and\nentreaties, Perry continued to respond, \"It is no use to try.\" Yet\nit seems not to have been altogether in vain. Some faint glimmer of\nhope must have reached the boy's heart, for he grew more cheerful, and\ngained strength correspondingly, and in the course of a week was able\nto come down-stairs.\n\nLying upon the lounge in the sitting room, while the family were at\ndinner, he overheard a fragment of conversation which sent the blood\ncapering through his veins, and set heart and head to throbbing\nviolently. Mr. Morse was saying, \"I suppose I had better write to John.\nHe will be waiting for an answer. Probably Perry will not be able to go\nfor a month yet.\"\n\n\"I should think not sooner, perhaps not then,\" replied his wife. \"But\nhadn't you better wait a little before you make any decisive answer? I\ndo not think Perry will be willing to go.\"\n\n\"Can't help it. Of course, I have his welfare in mind, and I think it\nis the best thing to do. He is ruined for Westville, and a stranger\nwould not take a boy without recommendations. As for not liking it, he\nwill get over that after he is once fairly at work.\"\n\nForgetting how weak he was, the unhappy boy started to go to the dining\nroom to enter an indignant protest, but sank upon the threshold limp\nand white. Then there was consternation, running for restoratives,\na swift messenger for the doctor, and it must be confessed upon Mr.\nMorse's part an uncomfortable feeling that he was to blame for what\nmight prove a serious relapse. And so it turned out. At the end\nof a month, instead of going to work in Uncle John's tannery, the\ninvalid, muffled in shawls and tippets, was taken out in the doctor's\ncarriage for an airing, and when another four weeks had passed, he was\npronounced fit for work.\n\nMeantime this bit of correspondence had been going on:\u2014\n\n                                           \"NELSON, Dec. 10.\n\n   \"MY DEAR BROTHER:\u2014Harvey is about leaving me to go West. Can you send\nme a good clerk to fill his place, or one to grow into it, not a fresh\nhand, but one with some knowledge of the business. You know what\nHarvey's position has been. For the present, I shall take more care and\nwork upon myself, but I want to get some one who can be trusted as I\nhave trusted him. If you can find an honest fellow, let me know at once.\n\n                         \"Yours as ever,\n\n                                \"DAVID MCNAIR.\"\n\n\n                                           \"WESTVILLE, December 12.\n\n   \"DEAR BROTHER DAVID:\u2014I have in mind a clerk for you, and fine\naccountant, a good salesman, but not otherwise up to your requirements.\n\n   \"David, good boys can get places any day, but one who has been\ndischarged for dishonesty is in a bad fix. And the worst is, there are\nso few who are willing to give such a boy a chance to redeem himself.\nThis boy is a mate of Duncan's, and was a member of my wife's class\nin Sunday-school, and I am much interested in him. I have offered him\na place in my office, but his inclinations are still for a mercantile\nlife.\n\n   \"Now, can you find it in your heart to do your Master a service by\ngiving this young fellow an opportunity to begin life anew? I hope you\nwill consider it, I need not add prayerfully, knowing as I do your\nhabit. There is no immediate hurry. He has been ill and is just getting\nabout. Let me hear at the end of a week. And may Christ through his\nSpirit guide you to decision in accordance with his will.\n\n                         \"Your brother,\n\n                                \"ROBERT MCNAIR.\"\n\n\n                                           \"NELSON, Dec. 20.\n\n   \"BROTHER ROBERT:\u2014I think my duty has been made plain to me. The Lord\nhas so prospered me that I have no need to be anxious about money\naffairs, so that I have more time to give thought to this work; and\njust at present, I find here nothing especial to put my hand to (mind,\nI say nothing especial\u2014there is always the ordinary, every-day work for\nChrist); so it seems to me that perhaps I may be his chosen instrument\nto help the boy you speak of, by bearing with his faults, correcting\nhis mistakes, and strengthening his good purposes.\n\n   \"Harvey has decided to remain until spring. If your young friend\ncomes, he will board with us and room with Harvey. As to salary . . .\nif he should remain with me and fill Harvey's place, of course the pay\nwould be the same that he receives. If this is satisfactory, he may come\nas soon as he is able.\n\n                         \"Yours, &c.,\n\n                                \"DAVID.\"\n\n\nIt was Dr. Maxwell who undertook to set this proposition before Mr.\nMorse. That gentleman's opposition was at first very decided. He had\nmade the proposal which his brother had accepted, and he would much\nprefer not to retract anything. However, Perry was so averse to the\nidea, he was willing to promise him a release at the end of a specified\ntime, if he should not become reconciled to it. The truth was, his\nbrother was wealthy, and had offered to do well by his nephew. Perry\nwould be a rich man in a few years, and it was all nonsense this being\nafraid of a little dirt.\n\n\"It is a good deal of dirt instead of a little,\" laughed the doctor.\n\"Of course that sort of work has to be done, but you must remember that\nyou have always encouraged Perry's fastidiousness, and love of neatness\nand pleasant surroundings has become a part of his very nature, so\nthat if you insist upon forcing him into such uncongenial work, I\nreally believe it will have a bad influence upon his mental and moral\ncharacter. Now he has a chance to retrieve the past, and seems ready to\nmake the attempt. I beg of you don't put a straw in his way.\"\n\nNow Mr. Morse's word had always been decisive in his family. When he\nsaid a thing was to be, or not to be, that ended discussion, and he\nhated to give in. Finally Dr. Maxwell said, \"See here, Morse, that boy\nis not pronounced convalescent yet, and I believe he is under my care.\nI recommend the air of Nelson. Don't you dare to disobey your family\nphysician!\"\n\n\"I suppose you'll have your way,\" said Mr. Morse, laughing a little,\nand really glad to have the mutter settled. He had been very angry\nwith Perry, and in wrath had fallen upon this plan of punishment, and\nafterward it had seemed a good thing in a money point of view; so you\nsee he had several reasons for holding on to his idea.\n\nBefore his departure, Perry went to bid the McNairs good-bye. This\nwas the first opportunity for that quiet talk which his friend had\nsuggested in her note so many weeks previous, and now they had but a\nfew moments together, and the subject was altogether different from\nthat which she had in mind then.\n\n\"Perry,\" she said, \"when you were too ill to know any of us, I stood\nbeside you with a very sad heart. It seemed to me that I must have\nsadly failed in trying to show you the way to Christ, and I promised\nGod then, that if he would spare you, I would never give up until you\ncame to Christ. Remember always that I am praying for you, that the\nburden is ever upon me. I know you are going away armed with many good\nresolutions, but I do not feel that you are safe so long as you trust\nin yourself.\"\n\nIn the course of a few months, Mr. Morse received from his son fifty\ndollars to repay Mr. Wynn's loss.\n\n   \"I have never,\" he wrote, \"used money more to my satisfaction than\nI do in repaying this. It is a great relief to be able to make\nretribution. Now I wish I could forget all about that miserable\nbusiness, but I don't suppose I ever shall. I am perfectly contented\nhere. Mr. McNair expresses himself as very well satisfied with my work,\nand I think he has considerable confidence in me. I have often wondered\nif he knew of my reputation. I hardly think he did\u2014at least he has never\nmade the slightest reference to it. You can tell mother that this is a\nno-license town, and there is not a liquor-saloon within five miles of\nhere.\"\n\nAbout this time he wrote to Dr. Myers:\u2014\n\n   \"MY DEAR FRIEND:\u2014I received your letter the other day. Yes, I am\ncontented here. Harvey went away two months ago. He is a splendid\nfellow. I can't help thinking that he ought to have been a minister.\nI said so once, and he replied that Christian merchants were needed.\nI can tell you, business is done here on Christian principle. I'd\njust like to tell Mr. Wynn that a man can do a thriving business and\nbe perfectly true and fair. There are three clerks of us, and I don't\nknow what Mr. McNair would say if one of us should sell an article\nfor what it is not, or recommend a thing one bit higher than it will\nbear. I believe that man loves the truth as he does his own life. The\nleast little bit of a lie would be terrible to him. Mrs. McNair and\nEmily are very pleasant. Emily is twelve years old. We are reading\nGerman together. Her father said I might find it useful, as the German\npopulation is very large about here.\n\n   \"In answer to your question, Am I following Christ? I have to say,\nnot as you mean. I am different from what I was in Westville. I feel\nthat I am changed in many ways. I do not think that I could be induced\nto taste a bit of liquor, or touch a card, or take a penny that did not\nbelong to me. I do not shun religious people and religious services as\nI did once. When Harvey was here, I always joined him in reading and\nprayer, but I know that I am not a Christian. I almost wish I were.\nBut you remember I told you once there was always something to hold\nme back. I can't tell just what it is now; only I think that if I did\nstart, and then did not follow any closer than some Christians I know,\nI should not be better off than I am now. I don't want to say anything\nhard of any one, but I will tell you that I was almost a Christian\nonce, and was turned back by those who profess to be living for Christ.\nI thought I could do as well as they could any day without being a\nChristian, and I think so still.\n\n   \"Now there is Dr. Maxwell. He is not a church member, but how kind\nand patient he was when I abused him. He took my part all the way\nthrough, and I know well enough that I shouldn't be here to-day if it\nhad not been for him. He couldn't be better if he belonged to forty\nchurches. I am much obliged to you for writing to me. I wonder why you\nwere always so kind to us boys?\"\n\n                            \"Your friend,\n\n                                 \"PERRY MORSE.\"\n\nIt was perhaps a year later that Perry's employer wrote to his brother\na letter, from which I copy a sentence or two.\n\n   \"We have had a precious work of grace in our midst. Of my Bible class\nof twenty young men, all but two are now professing Christians. One of\nthese two is your young friend, Perry Morse. He seems to linger just\non the threshold. He has been attentive and interested, but will not\ncome in. I am pleased with him in a business way. He is honourable and\nupright. It seems sad that he will imperil his soul by this strange\nhalting.\"\n\nNot yet was the burden lifted from the heart of the praying teacher.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nLEWIE AMESBURY'S CREED.\n\n   \"Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed.\"\n\nHERBERT BRADFORD remained in New York about four months, when he was\nthrown out of business by the failure of the firm by which he was\nemployed. Again he returned to Westville disappointed.\n\n\"I think it is queer, the trouble I have in getting into business,\" he\nsaid to his old friend and companion, Lewie Amesbury. \"You never seem\nto have any trouble of any sort. I wonder what you would do, if you\nwere disappointed and thwarted every time you tried to do anything that\nseemed likely to amount to something.\"\n\n\"I wonder what you would do, if you were disappointed and thwarted\nabout a dozen little things every day,\" responded Lewie, laughing. \"My\nlife isn't so smooth and easy as you imagine; but I have got into a way\nof letting go of a good many annoying things, and trying new plans.\nMaybe I should do the same in more important cases.\"\n\n\"I can't lie around and do nothing,\" said Herbert, \"so I may have to\ntake up something else. Just for the present I am going to help father\nwith a quantity of copying; but this is only to fill up the gap. Have\nyou decided what to do?\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall study law. I expect to enter Princeton next fall. I wish\nyou were going. I suppose you could be ready if you studied hard until\nthen?\"\n\n\"Yes, I suppose so, and father would like it. He has always wanted me\nto be a lawyer, but I don't incline that way.\"\n\n\"You are not obliged to be a lawyer,\" said Lewie, laughing.\n\n\"I know,\" returned Herbert, \"but my ambition has been to become a rich\nmerchant\u2014not that I should care to be just a rich man and nothing more,\nbut I'd like to do good in the world, and if I had money, I could be so\nmuch more useful. I'd like to help poor people, build churches and send\nout missionaries, and that sort of thing.\"\n\n\"I see; that's all very nice to want to do, and maybe you'll reach that\npoint; but I think you are made to travel by a roundabout road.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" returned Herbert. \"As I said, failure is written upon\neverything that I undertake. I'm sure I don't know what to do.\"\n\n\"Ask God!\" said Mr. Earle, who in passing caught the last sentence\nwithout at all guessing the drift of the conversation, but such was his\nthought and practice to ask God for direction in all things, and the\nreply came readily in reply to Herbert's bewildered tone and words. He\nonly halted an instant, then passed hurriedly on to catch the train\nthat was puffing and snorting in the depot, seemingly in haste to be\ngone. It was seed by the wayside in a literal sense, but it was also\nseed sown on good ground.\n\n\"What a queer man Mr. Earle is,\" said Lewie.\n\n\"He is a thoroughly good man,\" returned Herbert. \"Perhaps you call that\nqueer?\"\n\n\"Well, rather; such men are rare, I confess. But I was thinking how\nqueer to ask God whether you should be a merchant or a lawyer.\"\n\n\"Don't you suppose God cares?\" asked Herbert, upon whose mind the\nthought had just flashed that he had never asked God any such thing.\n\n\"I don't know; but if He cares enough to interfere, He will do so\nwithout your asking.\"\n\n\"Don't you believe in prayer?\" questioned Herbert, in a troubled tone.\n\n\"I don't disbelieve in it. I suppose it has its place and its uses; but\nI don't believe that it will make any difference with your business\narrangements whether you pray about them or not. Now didn't you pray\nover that affair at Mr. Wynn's store and you got your leave of absence\nfor all that!\u2014And I suppose you prayed when you went to Dayton's, and\nwhen you were in New York, and yet here you are without a situation, no\nbetter off than as if you had never prayed at all.\"\n\n\"What do you think prayer is for, then?\"\n\n\"Why, I suppose that some people find comfort in it,\" returned Lewie.\n\"I suppose you do, and Mr. Earle, and my father. I suppose there is\nsuch a thing as a kind of communion with God, and I presume that people\nwho are so privileged gain spiritual strength, and that helps them over\nhard places. I know father smooths the tangles out every morning so far\nas they concern him; but as for things really being any different, I\nnever could see that. Now, Herbert, did you ever get what people call a\ndirect answer to prayer?\" Lewie asked presently, and Herbert replied,\u2014\n\n\"Yes, more than once\u2014answers so direct that no power on earth could\nconvince me that I was mistaken. I'll tell you of one instance which\nI think was remarkable. It was connected with the lawsuit against the\nwidow Blake's place. You remember that it was Tom Allan's testimony\nthat proved her claim. Father was her lawyer, and he had been very much\ntroubled, because nobody knew what had become of Tom Allan. He hadn't\nbeen heard from in five or six years, and there was no hope unless he\ncould be found.\n\n\"I felt so sorry for Aunty Blake that I couldn't keep the matter out of\nmy mind; and I began to pray about it, asking God to let the truth come\nout by revealing Tom's hiding place. One day mother sent me over across\nthe river to see if old Betsy could come and clean house. The old lady\nwas trying to read a letter from her boy Jake, and as her eyes were\npoor, she asked me to read it for her. I fairly shouted over it.\n\n   \"He said, 'Tom Allan turned up here the other day, and we have gone\ninto partnership,' &c.\n\n\"I forgot all about the house-cleaning, and rushed up to the office.\nFather says I came in like a whirlwind. Now you need not tell me that\nit just happened, because I don't believe it. Betsy said she hadn't\nheard from Jake before almost in two years, but you see that letter\ncame just at the right time.\"\n\nLewie laughed a little incredulous laugh, and said, as he turned off to\ngo to his home\u2014\n\n\"Well, now, suppose you study out a reason for your own ill-luck.\"\n\n\"I intend to,\" was the reply.\n\nA week later, he said\u2014\n\n\"Lewie, it is all clear to me now. I had just made up my mind to be a\nmerchant. I don't think I ever prayed at all on that point, but I was\nso presumptuous as to ask God to bless me in a decision which I had\nmade without consulting Him. I begin now to think that this constant\nthwarting of my plans means something.\"\n\n\"So you've been studying up the case as I advised,\" said Lewie, with a\nslight sneer, which Herbert did not mind. He was used to Lewie. They\ndid not think and feel alike upon religious subjects, but they always\nspoke freely to each other.\n\nLewie went regularly to church and Bible class (the remaining members\nof the old class having been transferred to Dr. Myers's class, while\nMrs. McNair took charge of the younger scholars), the old motto still\nhung in a conspicuous place in his room, and he assured himself\nwhenever he looked at it that he was following, even closer than many\nwho bore the name of Christian. Did he call himself a Christian? We\nwill see what he thought about it.\n\nHerbert had returned home to find Westville in the midst of the\nspiritual awakening of which we have already written something. Mr.\nEarle had the rare faculty of understanding how to set people to work,\nand in a quiet, unostentatious way Herbert was soon earnestly engaged\nin the work of winning souls for Christ. It was through him that Nick\nTurner was led to place himself within reach of the means of grace. It\nwas he who brought Willy and Helen Knapp to the children's meeting,\nand, too, it was he who rejoiced with Henry Trafton when his young\nsister Alice gave her heart to Christ, and his father owned Him as his\nSaviour. And after Duncan's conversion, a prayer-meeting was started\namong the boys at the seminary, and here Herbert found work. In the\nthree years that had gone by since he gave his heart to Christ, he had\ntried to do his Master service as he found opportunity, but it seemed\nthat he had never found so grand an opening for labour as now, and\nnever before had his heart been so full of love for souls.\n\nMr. Earle watched him with gladness, yet with anxiety. He felt that by\nhis providence God was calling Herbert to devote himself entirely to\nthe work of spreading the gospel, and he waited longingly for the time\nwhen the Spirit should show the boy the meaning of those things that\npuzzled him now.\n\nBut to go back to what we were saying about Lewie Amesbury's thoughts,\nas to whether he might call himself a Christian or not. One evening,\nafter many had spoken, old Christians out of their rich experience, and\nyoung converts out of hearts all aglow with love, Mr. Earle said\u2014\n\n\"I have no doubt; that many, perhaps nearly all, here, would be glad\nto testify for Christ tonight, and if there were time, or if it were\nprudent to remain, we would gladly listen to their testimony; but us we\ncannot do this, I have a request to make. Will all who would like to\nspeak for Christ, all Christians, and all who are willing now to accept\nChrist's terms of discipleship, and be known henceforth by his glorious\nname, will all such rise, and thus swell the crowd of witnesses?\"\n\nEvery seat in that large audience-room was occupied, as were the\nbenches and camp chairs put down in the aisles; and as Mr. Earle ceased\nspeaking, the great congregation seemed to rise with one mind. But\nthere were a few who retained their position, looking straight before\nthem or down at the floor, feeling, doubtless, some embarrassment at\nbeing so small a minority. Indeed it must have required more courage to\nsit quietly in their places than to rise on that occasion. And Lewie\nwas one who braved it out; and this is what he said about it as he\nwalked home with Herbert:\u2014\n\n\"I don't like some of Mr. Earle's measures. I think that was a very\nunwise course he took tonight. It is not very pleasant for a person to\nbe forced to express his views whether he wants to or not.\"\n\n\"I don't understand how there can be anything objectionable in it,\"\nreturned Herbert. \"If one is a Christian, he certainly can have no\nobjection to being known as such, and if one is not a Christian, he\nwill not wish to sail under false colours. If you don't like your\nposition, Lewie, it is a good time to take a new and safer one.\"\n\n\"I am satisfied with my position,\" said Lewie, \"but I don't like to\nbe placed in a false one. I don't class myself with those you call\nChrist's enemies, but I know very well that Mr. Earle didn't mean me\nwhen he called upon Christians to rise, so I sat still, like George\nHawley and the rest of the set\u2014fellows that lie and swear, and don't\nknow the meaning of the word honour.\"\n\n\"Lewie! What do you mean, anyway? If you are not Christ's enemy, and if\nyou will not acknowledge yourself as his friend, what are you?\"\n\n\"I never said I wasn't his friend, only as I was put in a false\nposition. I think I am a great deal better Christian than some who\nstood up there tonight, but as long as I can't talk about repentance\nand faith and that sort of thing, I suppose I mustn't call myself one.\"\n\n\"I don't understand you yet,\" said Herbert, perplexed and sorry. \"What\ndo you mean by being a better Christian when you don't pretend to\nrepent of sin or to have faith in Christ?\"\n\n\"Why, I mean this: In the first place, I try to do just as well as I\ncan always. I've studied that Sermon on the Mount, and I make it my\nguide. And I don't know as I have done anything to repent of; and as\nfor faith, I don't know what you mean. I believe in Christ, of course,\nand follow Him, too. You see, Bert, I am not your sort, but if I do\nwhat I think is right, God can't require anything more.\"\n\n\"I feel that you are wrong,\" said his friend, \"though I don't suppose I\ncould convince you. But won't you read that guide over again, and see\nif you haven't neglected something, and then remember that God requires\nperfect obedience?\"\n\n\"I don't believe that God requires impossibilities,\" returned Lewie.\n\n\"If he only requires what we are able to perform, why did Christ take\nup the work of our salvation?\" asked Herbert, us they parted at the\ngate.\n\nOne could scarcely find a flaw in Lewie Amesbury's outward life.\nHe walked straight through the temptations that beset the boys of\nWestville, es in other places, and in the midst of which so many fell.\nAt home he was vexed and annoyed, misunderstood and reproached. Yet,\nkeeping silence, he was patient and thoughtful of others' comfort. He\nwas industrious and studious, respectful in the house of God, and a\nthoroughly gentlemanly boy, growing in manliness and rapidly advancing\nintellectually. He only needed the crowning gift, the one thing\nneedful, to round his character out into perfect proportions. Lacking\nthis, what but failure could he make of his life ultimately!\n\nYet he was not like the young man who went away sorrowful; he had never\nseemed troubled about the interests of eternity, always dismissing the\nsubject with the utmost unconcern.\n\n\"And you are not coming with the rest to-morrow?\" The speaker was\nTom Nichols, who was spending a few days with his old friends, and\nhe referred to the fact that a large number, the fruits of a recent\nrevival, were about to unite with the church. He was addressing Lewie,\nwho replied, somewhat coldly\u2014\n\n\"No. I have attended some of the meetings, but I have had very little\ninterest in the matter. My time and thoughts have been very much\nengrossed with other things.\"\n\n\"Weightier matters?\" asked Tom meaningly.\n\n\"Everyday duties,\" replied Lewie. \"I suppose you call those mighty; at\nleast you will acknowledge that they ought to receive attention.\"\n\n\"Certainly, after the one all-important duty has been disposed of. You\nremember it says, 'Seek ye first the kingdom.'\"\n\n\"And that is in your creed-chapter,\" said Herbert, who was present.\n\n\"Well, boys, I don't see these things as you do. My ideas of what is\nrequired of us are different from yours. Herbert, you and I have the\nsame motto, but we read it differently and go our ways accordingly.\nThis is mine. Good night.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\nDECISIONS.\n\n   \"All to leave end follow Thee.\"\n\nTHERE were many changed households in Westville. Perhaps nowhere was\nthe change more marked than in the homes of the Lorings and the Knapps.\n\n\"How much they need Christ,\" was Mabel's thought months ago; but now He\nis with them an ever-present Friend and Helper.\n\nAt the Lorings's, the proud and haughty father has become a humble\nlearner at the feet of the Great Teacher, led there through sorrow and\nbereavement. Willy's short life had not been fruitless. He brought a\nblessing to the home he left so early, and where his were the only\nprayers ever offered. The family altar has been established, the lonely\nmother is comforted, and Louise rejoices in her Saviour's love.\n\nAt the Knapps's, there is peace and harmony. The children are obedient\nand respectful, the tried mother has found a rest, and the stern\nfather, remembering God's patience and long-suffering as exercised\ntoward him, has grown more gentle and forbearing toward his children.\n\nMr. Earle's request that Willy and Helen should remain at home with the\nlittle ones while their parents came to church gave Helen much trouble.\nWhat! Stay at home from those precious meetings! How could she get\non without the help and instruction which she found there? Mr. Earle\ncould not have thought how much she loved to be there, nor how much\nshe needed to hear him talk. She carried a very sober face to school\nthe next morning, and brought it home with her at night\u2014at least she\nstarted with it. She stopped a few minutes at Mr. Trafton's, and while\nAlice went to get a book for her, she sat in Henry's room.\n\n\"You find the meetings very pleasant, do you not?\" he said.\n\n\"Oh, yes, indeed. I wouldn't miss them for anything.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" returned Henry, smiling, \"I've missed a great many; but I have\nhad some meetings here a great deal more precious than any I ever\nattended anywhere else.\"\n\n\"Why, do you ever have a meeting here?\" asked Helen.\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied, still smiling. \"When the rest are away, my Saviour\nmeets me here, and teaches and comforts me. If one can go to church, of\ncourse he can't look for a blessing by staying at home; but if kept at\nhome by sickness or duty to others, Christ will not forget, especially\nif the sacrifice be a willing one. Alice is calling you.\"\n\n\"What a patient boy Henry Trafton is,\" thought Helen; \"and how\nperfectly happy he looked when he talked about the visits of his\nSaviour. I wonder\u2014I will!\"\n\n\"Mother,\" she said, on reaching home, \"I'll stay at home tonight, and\nyou can go to church.\"\n\n\"And if father will go with you, I'll stay, too,\" added Willy.\n\nMr. Earle had not forgotten to send a special reminder to Mr. Knapp's\nshop that afternoon, and God blessing the efforts put forth in his\nname, both parents were ere long rejoicing in sins forgiven, and Helen\nfelt that she had gained by her sacrifice.\n\nAnd where was the son and brother while these at home were coming\nwithin the fold? To show that he was not forgotten, I copy a part of a\nletter written about this time.\n\n                                             \"WESTVILLE.\n\n   \"MY DEAR ARTHUR:\u2014I have in my possession a little note which you\nwrote to me two years ago. In it you say, 'I think I love Jesus.\nI am trying to follow the White Line.'\n\n   \"My dear boy, are you still following on? I have feared much for\nyou. I know very little of your associations and habits; but, oh, I\ndo know that temptation must come to every one, and that we all need\nto be faithful and on our guard. Sometimes the tempter creeps in\nunder disguises, and we fail to recognise him until we have fallen.\nMy dear Arthur, I want you for Christ, I want you to be a comfort to\nyour parents, a help to your brothers and sisters, an example to your\ncompanions, a blessing to the world. Are you? Are you doing God's work?\nYou remember what I used to tell you about honouring Christ everywhere,\nat home, in the street, in places of business, as well as in the\nsanctuary. If we love Him we shall delight to do Him honour.\n\n   \"If you have drawn back, if you are not following Christ, let me\nentreat you to no longer tamper with your salvation. It would be a\nterrible thing to slide back a little too far, to be a little too late.\nDon't risk your soul in that way. I have wished that you were here\nwhile so many are coming to Christ; but He is just as near to you where\nyou are, if you will only reach out and take hold of his outstretched\nhand. Will you?\n\n   \"I do not know just how to advise you because I know so little of your\nlife at present. It may be that you do not always find your associates\npleasant. It may be that they are not always safe companions. Shun\ntheir evil ways, seek opportunities to do them good, but beware of\nfollowing their examples. It may be that your employers sometimes seem\nhard or unjust. Let me say that the world is full of just such little\nfretting things, and if we allow them to fret and annoy us, we shall\nnever have a moment's peace. We are never going to find a place here\nthat will be free from annoying circumstance. And it is just in this\nway that we prove that we are one with Christ. If we bear our trials,\ndo our work, taking the good and ill together, as coming from our\nFather's hand, accepting with a spirit of obedience and consecration\nwhatever comes to us, we shall find our hearts growing restful. Then\nshall our lives be peaceful and full of good works.\n\n                          \"Your friend,\n\n                               \"MABEL MCNAIR.\"\n\nTo this letter Arthur made answer:\u2014\n\n   \"DEAR TEACHER:\u2014 . . . I do not dare to call myself a disciple, though\nI think I do love the Saviour. But I wander so often and so far. It seems\nthat I have no strength to resist temptation, and yet if it were not\nfor Christ's love drawing me back, I must have gone to ruin long ago.\nI wish I could cut loose from my sins, but it does seem sometimes as\nthough Satan was determined to have possession. I have no time to grow\nin grace, for I am continually wandering and then repenting. I should\nlike to make a public profession of my love for Jesus, but I dare\nnot, I should so soon dishonour the name. I am not worthy to take the\nChristian name. I belong to a Bible class here, but it is not like the\ndear little class in Westville. I miss the Saturday evening talks.\n\n   \"Do you think that Christ will accept me? Dare I come to his Supper?\nI should like to come home in the spring, and join the church with the\nrest, if I was only fit. I know you pray for all of us boys. I wish\nwe were all following. Will you pray especially for me, that I may be\nstrengthened to resist temptation?\n\n                         \"Your loving pupil,\n\n                                \"ARTHUR KNAPP.\"\n\nA long letter was written in response to this, but I will quote only a\nsentence or two:\u2014\n\n   \"My dear boy, the only fitness required for the step you desire to\ntake is a humble, childlike trust in Christ. If you feel your own\nweakness, remember in Him is strength; if you realise that you are\nsinful, remember that it was to save a lost and sinful race that He\ncame; if you feel that you really love the Saviour, and that He is\nyour only hope, you need not fear to come.\"\n\nWith great hesitation, with many doubts and fears, Arthur came. Mabel\nrejoiced, though her joy was dimmed by the thought of the two who would\nnot come, and she prayed as she had often before\u2014\n\n   \"My whole dear class for Jesus!\n    Oh, let not one be lost.\"\n\nTom and Herbert had many long talks during the visit of the former.\nVery soon after his conversion, Tom had asked, \"Lord, what wilt Thou\nhave me to do?\" And the answer had come to him as it comes to all who\nask in sincerity. By his providence and by his spirit God had said,\n\"Go, proclaim the gospel of my Son, Jesus Christ.\"\n\nIn the experience of the last few months, and, indeed, in his whole\nChristian life, Herbert began now to see a hand pointing him to the\nsame course; and his talks with Tom, their comparison of experience and\nfeelings, had strengthened his growing conviction that his early choice\nof a life-work had been a mistake.\n\nTom had gone. Mr. Bradford and Herbert were busy at the office, Herbert\nwriting in the private office, his father talking with clients in the\nouter room. Presently a low, soft voice attracted the attention of the\ncopyist.\n\n\"I am looking for work,\" said the lady to whom the voice belonged,\nand whom Mr. Bradford recognised as the daughter of a once wealthy,\nbut lately insolvent manufacturer. \"My penmanship has always been\nconsidered as something remarkable for an unprofessional; and my choice\nof work would be something which would call this one talent into use. I\nhave called to ask you if you do not need a copyist.\"\n\nMr. Bradford began a reply to the effect that he was sorry, but for the\npresent his son was acting in that capacity; but was interrupted by a\ncall from the inner office.\n\n\"Father! Excuse the interruption, but will you step here? I am quite\nready,\" he continued, in a low voice, \"to resign in favour of Miss\nDean. I\u2014in short, I have decided to accept your offer of a college\ncourse.\"\n\n\"And give up a business life?\"\n\n\"Yes; that is\u2014I think I must be about my Master's business.\"\n\n\"Ah! The ministry?\" questioned Mr. Bradford.\n\n\"Yes, sir. I think I ought. You do not object?\"\n\n\"No,\" a little doubtfully. \"I knew Mr. Earle had his eye upon you.\"\n\n\"Mr. Earle! He has never spoken a word to me about it. I was going to\nconsult him this afternoon; but I should have spoken to you first, if\nMiss Dean had not called.\"\n\nMr. Bradford had been sincerely sorry; and now he was sincerely glad,\nbecause of the answer he had to give the waiting lady, and as Miss\nDean herself was very glad to hear the favourable decision, there were\nseveral persons in that very desirable state of mind.\n\nTo tell the truth, Herbert had anticipated some little opposition upon\nhis father's part. He had been bent upon a mercantile life, and had\nwith some difficulty won his parents' consent, and he expected to be\naccused of fickleness. Then he fancied that he had foreseen several\narguments which his father would use to prove that he should study law,\nin case he made a change, and he had prepared himself to answer these;\nbut to his surprise, he had no use for his counter arguments. As Mr.\nBradford hinted, he was not unprepared for this announcement, and he\nwas not so worldly as to wish to keep Herbert from the path of duty.\n\n\"It seems strange,\" said Herbert, in the course of his talk with Mr.\nEarle, \"that, if you had this in mind, you should never have spoken of\nit to me.\"\n\nMr. Earle smiled.\n\n\"I knew the matter was in safe hands. I might be mistaken, and I was\nsure that if the Lord really wanted you for this work, he would make it\nknown to you in his own good time.\"\n\nAs I am writing of decisions, I will record one more. I have somewhere\nsaid that Nick Turner was an out-and-out loafer. He worked when obliged\nto, and the rest of the time, he smoked, drank, and gambled. His father\nwas a well-to-do farmer, living half a mile from the village. Kindly\nold Mr. Turner and his sweet-faced wife were growing old and sad faster\nthan their years warranted. Years do not bow one down to the earth like\nthe carrying of a heavy heart; and what burden can weigh heavier upon a\nparent's heart than the living death of the first-born?\n\nNick's help upon the farm counted for very little; consequently his\nfather was astonished at a remark he made one morning.\n\n\"Father, if Gibbs wants Jonas, you may as well let him go. I'll take\nhis place for the summer. I would like to go West next year, if you\nwill help me off; but for the present, you may depend upon me.\"\n\n\"Can I depend upon you?\" asked the father gently, but meaningly.\n\n\"Yes, sir. I think so. You know that I am not just the boy I was a few\nweeks ago. At least I hope so.\"\n\n\"Yes; I know. I know, Nicholas, that you are not the same. Thank God\nfor it. I only meant\u2014Well, I am afraid you will get tired of work; and\nit will be bad for me to lose the chance of keeping a steady hand. But\nif you say you'll stick to it, I'll trust you. Thank God, I have my boy\nback again.\"\n\nIt was a simple affair that took Herbert Bradford out to the farmhouse\none afternoon two months previous to this conversation. The apples\nfrom the Turner orchard were famous, and Mr. Bradford had sent Herbert\nout to engage a few bushels, to be brought in when convenient. Yes,\nthey could spare a few, the old man said, and Nicholas might as well\ndrive down then, and Herbert could ride with him. That was the young\nChristian's opportunity, and out of the few earnest words spoken during\nthat drive grew the little talk that ended with, \"Thank God, I have my\nboy back again!\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\nSOWINGS.\n\n   \"And thy soul may see the value\n      Of its patient morns and eves,\n   When the everlasting garner\n      Shall be filled with precious sheaves.\"\n\nIT was a bright summer day, just after dinner. Julia Bradford stood in\nthe front doorway, waiting for her particular friend Alice Trafton. Her\nbroad-brimmed sun-hat lay upon the stop, and she was putting lines in\nher young face in the desperate effort to make sense out of what seemed\nto her a senseless paragraph in her despised C\u00e6sar.\n\n\"Dear me!\" she thought, closing the book. \"I can't do anything with\nit. I suppose Herbert would help me, but I won't ask him now while Mr.\nAmesbury is here. I don't like him much. I wonder why it is that Bertie\nis so fond of him? I suppose it is because they are such old friends,\nbut they are so very unlike. Lewie is nice, that's certain, and that\nis just the trouble; he thinks that being nice and proper, kind and\ngenerous, and all that, is going to open heaven's door. What puzzles\nme is, what did Christ come for, if we can live so as to merit God's\nfavour?\n\n\"Oh, I am glad I haven't got to depend upon my good deeds as a\nladder to climb into heaven upon. It would be too short to reach the\nthreshold, and what would I lean it against? But that is just what Mr.\nAmesbury is depending upon. I heard him say so yesterday. Why don't\nsomebody try to reason him out of such a dreadful mistake? I suppose\nthat would not be easy. Why don't Alice come? What a silky, shiny hat\nthat is, and that duster hasn't a wrinkle in it. The fellow always\nlooks as though he were done up fresh every morning. But, nice as he\nis, I can't quite like him. There's something lacking.\"\n\nHere she returned to her Latin puzzle for a few moments, then leaned\nout to look for Alice, and suddenly, as if a new idea presented itself,\nshe threw down the book and sprang up the staircase. Returning a moment\nlater, she took the shiny hat from the rack and slipped a folded paper\nunder the lining, with an inaudible, \"If it please Thee, O God, in\nthine own time, let this see the light and do its work.\"\n\nReplacing the hat, she picked up her own, and went down the walk to\njoin her tardy friend.\n\nHerbert and Lewie were at home for their summer vacation, and as Lewie\ndid not find his home more congenial, but rather less so, as the years\nwent by, he had fallen into the habit of spending much of his time at\nthe Bradfords's, and this is how it happened that the speckless hat and\nunwrinkled duster were hanging upon the hall rack upon that particular\nsummer day.\n\n\"Am I late?\" asked Alice, as she came hurrying down the street. \"You\nsee father had a letter that we were all interested in, and I stayed to\ntalk it over. Uncle Philip has written to invite Henry to make his home\nwith his family in New York this next winter, and I am to go to take\ncare of him. He is to paint in the studio of some great artist, and I\nam to take organ lessons. Isn't it splendid?\n\n\"Uncle Philip,\" she continued, \"took the pictures father sent him to\nthe artist, and he said they showed a remarkable talent. You know Henry\nonly took one quarter's lessons of Ledlie. Oh, I am so glad! Of course\nI am glad that I am going, but it is for Henry that I care the most;\nhe has waited so long and patiently for the opportunity, and now that\nit has come, he is just as quiet as ever, but I can't keep still. Say,\nJulia, don't you think it is lovely?\"\n\n\"I should have said so several minutes ago, if you had given me a\nchance,\" returned Julia, laughing. \"I am very glad indeed. When do you\ngo?\"\n\n\"The first of October, and this is the third week in August. Only six\nweeks to get ready!\"\n\n\"It is fortunate that it is no longer. Westville couldn't hold you a\ngreat while.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall quiet down presently, and settle to planning and\ncontriving, turning things wrong side out and upside down, sponging,\npiecing and stretching, in the effort to get up a presentable wardrobe\nwith the least possible expense.\"\n\n\"You talk as if your father was a poor man,\" said Julia, with another\nlaugh.\n\n\"Well, I suppose he could give me all I want, but I like to be\neconomical. Mother says she got in the way of it in the first years\nafter father gave up letting horses upon Sunday. You know business\nfell off, and Henry's sickness cost so much that I suppose they felt\nvery poor, but father says he has never been sorry that he took that\nstand. I have heard him say that it was his first step toward becoming\na Christian.\"\n\n\"I think it was real noble in your father to take such a stand,\" said\nJulia, with enthusiasm. \"Such things always make me feel jubilant; and\nthis reminds me, Bertie had a letter from Nick Turner this morning. You\nremember, he went West a year ago. He says\u2014\"\n\nBut while Julia tells the story in her way, we will read for ourselves\nwhat he says:\u2014\n\n   \"MY DEAR FRIEND:\u2014Seeing you were so kind as to write to me, and as\nyou requested an answers, I will try to do as you wish, though I am\nnot much of a writer. I write home to the old folks pretty often and\nmanage to make them understand what I mean, but it is just as it is in\ntalking. With some folks the words slip out easy like, and sound all\nsmooth and regular, while other, blunder along, getting in the wrong\nwords, or the right ones in the wrong places, and I happen to be one of\nthe blunderers with the pen. I can do some things a sight better than I\ncan write letters.\n\n   \"How did I happen to come out here? Well, you see there are a good\nmany reasons. The Westville folks never could forget that I had been\nNick Turner the loafer, and it wasn't pleasant for a fellow to hear it\nwhispered, 'He was one of the worst characters in the town. I'm afraid\nhe won't hold out.' 'I hope he is really sincere, but he has been so\ndissipated that his old habits may prove too strong.' Now, that's what\nI did hear whispered, and I thought I would come off out here where I\ncould have a fair chance. If I'd a been needed at home, I'd a stuck it\nthrough, but if Em's husband took hold of things there, I was only in\nthe way, so I just swung off, and I'm awful glad I did. This is a grand\ncountry to draw breath in, and I've got just the snuggest slice off the\nprairie that ever a man looked at. This is going to be a grand farming\ncountry.\n\n   \"You ask if I have the means of grace here. Well, I have my Bible,\nand a Saviour to pray to, if that's what you mean; but if you mean\nministers and churches and Christian people, we haven't them here.\nThere is work for a missionary. I hope you'll get through your Greek\nand Hebrew, and all that, as soon as possible, and come out here and\ntalk to these fellows just as you did to me that night I took the\napples home for you. There wasn't a bit of Greek in that talk, but for\nall that, it hit just right, and I thank God to-day for sending you to\nme.\n\n   \"Another question you ask, What am I doing for Jesus? I can tell you\nwhat I am trying to do. I board with a man who owns the next bit of\nprairie to mine, and it isn't much like home, I can tell you. I missed\nmother's bread and butter the first meal I ate here, but I missed\nfather's blessing the most, and the next time when we got to the table,\nI said, 'See here, mister, if you'd just as lief, I'd like to say a bit\nof prayer over the victuals. I've been used to it at home, and it don't\nseem right not to do it.'\n\n   \"'Pray away,' was what he said, and I opened my mouth, and I think\nGod put the words into my heart, for they were never my own rough words.\nSince then I always say them at every meal, and I think the folks are\ngetting to like it, for if I am behind time, they always wait. Then I\ntry to speak a word for Christ when it comes right, and the boys\u2014here\nare ten or twelve in the neighbourhood\u2014all hang on to me just as they\ndid in Westville, when I was such a bad sinner that I led them the\nwrong way. Well, every Sunday we get together. There is a little cabin\non my land, and we generally go there, and I try to tell them about the\nSaviour, and about God's laws, and all the good things that I know.\n\n   \"All this isn't much to do, but you see I ain't a scholar. I can't\nexplain things very well, but I can read to them what the Bible says,\nand tell them what Christ has done for me, and then I can pray; one\nneedn't be a Greek scholar to pray. Thank God, anybody that has wants\ncan pray, and God can understand if one don't get the words all in\nstraight. Last Sunday the man I board with, and another member, came\nin. I felt a little kinder queer, for Mr. Blake has been to the\nAssembly, but I said to Nick Turner, 'Now, don't be ashamed of Christ,\nand upset all the work you've been trying to do by running away,' and\nhe answered back, 'I ain't ashamed of Christ; it is my blundering way\nof reading and talking that I'm ashamed of;' but I said again, 'You are\nmistaken; you talk to these same men by the hour about farming, and\nnever think of your blunders; you know you are speaking truth,\u2014do it as\nwell as you can, and leave the rest with God.'\n\n   \"When we broke up, Mr. Blake said to me, 'I want to thank you; you\nhave made me ashamed of myself. I used to be a church member at the East,\nbut I guess I left my religion there, or lost it here; anyway, I never\nthought of doing as you are doing.'\n\n   \"I have written all this to let you see how much you are needed here,\nbut I suppose you can't come for several years, if you thought it was\nthe place for you; but can't you send us somebody? There is a grand\nchance for somebody to work for Christ.\"\n\nAh! And wasn't that somebody doing his work well? Who shall say that\nNick Turner was not chosen of God to preach his gospel to these people?\nAt least he was preparing the way for the coming missionary.\n\n\"How happy Herbert must be to think that he was the means of Nick's\nconversion to Christ. Oh! If I could save one soul, I'd be willing to\nsacrifice a great deal\u2014at least I think I would.\" It was truthful Alice\nwho said this.\n\n\"I think of this very often,\" returned Julia. \"I do not know that I\nhave ever done anything like that, I mean anything that has really\nhelped any one. I have tried to lead my schoolmates to Jesus, but my\nefforts do not seem to be blessed.\"\n\n\"I don't suppose that you always know for certain; maybe when we get\nto heaven, we shall find out that God has accepted our work, and maybe\nsome souls will thank us then for the right word.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" said Helen a little sadly. She was thinking of her little\neffort just put forth. Would it bear fruit?\n\nJust here I may as well record a bit of a talk that occurred a few days\nbefore Henry and Alice went to New York. Mrs. Trafton had a slight\nillness, and Dr. Myers was called in. Aunt Harriet, who had remained\nwith her brother ever since she came to nurse Henry when he was first\ninjured, was full of rejoicings over her nephew's prospects, and\ndetailed the plans for Dr. Myers's benefit, prophesying that he would\nbecome famous. The doctor listened with a queer smile.\n\n\"I am very glad indeed,\" he said. \"And now, Miss Trafton, do you see\nhow this has come about? You remember, perhaps, that once you could\nnot discover the loving Hand that destroys to build up; you could not\nunderstand how what seemed a great calamity might prove a blessing.\"\n\n\"No, I couldn't, and I am not sure of it yet. Don't you suppose that\nHenry would have made just as good an artist if he had two sound legs\nand a strong back?\"\n\n\"No, I don't,\" replied the doctor. \"He might have painted pictures as\na recreation, but his work in all probability would have been found in\nconnection with that livery stable, and you know that the business at\nthat time was not conducted upon Christian principles, and perhaps but\nfor this, which we call a calamity, that might never have been changed.\nHenry might have sustained his Christian character through it all, but\nit would have been a hard and dangerous path. But suppose, what is not\nat all likely, that he had been allowed to follow his inclinations and\nhad become an artist, he could never have done the work he will now.\nThe growth of heart and mind which has come through suffering, and\ncould come in no other way, will tell upon his work; his pictures will\nhave a character purer and nobler than he could have given them had not\nhis own soul been purified by these years of discipline.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\nWHAT THEY SAID ABOUT IT.\n\n   \"Young soldiers of the cross, beware!\n    A watchful foe besets thy way.\"\n\nTHE carrier had just thrown the Westville \"News\" in at Deacon Griffin's\nfront door. The good old man had rubbed his spectacles with his red and\nwhite spotted silk handkerchief, drawn his arm chair a little nearer\nthe window, unfolded the limp sheet, and read a few moments, before he\nexclaimed\u2014\n\n\"Can it be possible? Will the Lord suffer it?\"\n\n\"What is it?\" asked the soft-voiced woman who was darning the deacon's\nstockings in the other arm chair before the other window.\n\n\"Just hear this!\n\n   \"'The Charles Dickens Society will hold their Annual Reunion at\nWaden's Hall, on Wednesday evening, January 6. Their friends are\ninvited to attend. A company of amateurs will perform several popular\nplays. Musicians will be in attendance, and the hall will be cleared\nfor dancing at an early hour. An elegant collation will also be\nprovided. Proceeds to be applied to the Library Fund.\n\n   \"'Single Tickets, 1 dollar. Lady and Gentleman, 1 dollar, 50 cents.\n\n       \"'GEORGE BARNES,          DUNCAN MCNAIR,\n       \"'JOHN PETERS,            FRANK LESTER,\n       \"'ELMER GREEN,            IRA BAKER.\n\n                                     \"'Committee.'\n\n\"There! Can you make anything out of that but conformity to the world,\nunless it is worse? It seems to me like going right over to the enemy's\nranks. What are we coming to? Here are two of our young brothers, to\nwhom we must soon commit the gospel standard, giving their names and\ntheir labour to this unholy thing!\"\n\n\"O, father, don't say that,\" said the soft-voiced woman. \"Maybe it\nisn't so bad as you think, or as it looks at first. Sometimes things\nseem worse than they really are. And you know there have been a good\nmany things, first and last, which you have condemned as worldly, which\nhave turned out to be real spiritual helps. You remember how sorry you\nwere that we gave Mabel Wynn a chair for the church parlour, because\nyou thought it was going to introduce worldliness into the church, and\nyou know we could hardly get along now without that room. Then remember\nthe time we had the convention\u2014\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember. I opposed that, and I was wrong. It proved a great\nblessing, and I confessed my mistake. But, wife, you can't make this\nout to be an affair that a Christian should be mixed up with. It is a\nmatter of worldly amusements of the most pernicious sort. Theatricals\nand dancing!\"\n\n\"But young folks\u2014don't be too hard on them. You danced yourself when\nyou were young.\"\n\n\"So I did, so I did, and nearly lost my soul by it. It makes me shudder\nto think of our young people getting as near the brink of the precipice\nas I did. No, no, mother, these things are not for Christ's followers.\n'If any man love the world the love of the Father is not in him.' One\nmust have wandered a long way before he reached the point where he\ncould engage in such an enterprise. Perhaps,\" he added, with a sigh,\n\"we older Christians have not been watchful enough over these our young\nbrothers. We have let the world get a hold upon them, which a little\nmore vigilance upon our part might have prevented.\"\n\n\n\"Duncan,\" said Judge McNair, as his son came into the office that\nafternoon, \"haven't you made a great mistake?\"\n\n\"Where, and how? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Just this. Four years ago this winter you promised to live only for\nChrist. You covenanted with God and with his people, accepting God's\nterms, and promising to walk worthily of the Christian name; accepting\nthe fellowship of the Church, agreeing to avoid whatever might be a\nstumbling block for others, or in any way bring reproach upon Christ's\nname and people. This at least is the spirit of your vows. Strange that\nyou should have publicly renounced them.\"\n\n\"Why, father, what do you mean?\"\n\n\"Why, there in that paper you range yourself with the world,\" replied\nJudge McNair.\n\n\"I thought you approved of the object of our society. I consulted you\nbefore I joined it.\"\n\n\"I do approve of it\u2014at least I supposed that I did; but it seems that\nyou have objects of which I was not aware. I approve of the library\nscheme, but I would sooner have given fifty dollars for the fund than\nhave had you engaged in an affair of this sort.\"\n\n\"But, father,\" expostulated Duncan, \"aren't you a little too strict?\nDon't you think that such rigid notions are apt to repel outsiders?\"\n\n\"Duncan, if we who profess to be following Christ are in no wise\ndifferent from those who are walking in the ways of sin, how shall\nwe recommend our faith? If, through fear of repelling, we fail to\nattract, what have we gained? There is a great deal of that sort of\ntalk nowadays, but I think it is all wrong. We are expressly enjoined\nto 'come out from the world,' to 'love not the world,' to 'be not\nconformed to the world.' If these words mean anything, they mean that\nyou and I, and all who are the disciples of Christ, have no part in\nthat which must come under the head of worldly dissipation. Duncan, I\nam very sorry about this matter; it will be a stumbling block to many.\"\n\n\"But I shall not join the dancers, and my duties as one of the\ncommittee relate to the literary part of the entertainment.\"\n\n\"The theatricals! Yes. Ah, my boy, it's all alike. You indorse the\nwhole, and it is not the dancing or the theatricals in themselves.\nIt is this element of worldliness that pervades the entire plan of\nthe entertainment. The spirit of conformity to the world has crept\ninto the Church at large in just this way, undermining and destroying\nspirituality.\"\n\n\"There is another thing,\" continued Judge McNair. \"It is to be upon\nWednesday evening. Five or six years ago, I knew a boy who thought\nit a very inconsistent thing when the church decided to omit a\nprayer-meeting on account of a scientific lecture at the hall. Where is\nyour consistency now?\"\n\n\"But would you cut us off from recreations?\" asked Duncan, ignoring the\njudge's last remark.\n\n\"Not at all,\" was replied; \"but I would discriminate between\nrecreations and amusements. The propriety of one who professes to do\nall to the glory of God engaging in anything, simply as amusement, may\nbe doubted. There is a wide range from which a Christian may choose\nhis recreations; and when used as a needed rest, relief or exercise of\nbody or mind, are right and proper; but when we carry them so far that\nthey become dissipations, we may conclude that we have gone beyond our\nlimit.\"\n\nJust at that moment Mr. Earle looked in. He only asked\u2014\n\n\"Duncan, did you ask God what you'd better do about it?\"\n\nAh! Duncan had not been living very near to God lately. Here was the\ntrouble; this was how he had become entangled in this affair, which had\nin it not a single element of spirituality. Talk about carrying one's\nreligion with them through the week-days as well as the Sundays! One\nmay carry his Christian faith and practice into his palatial store, or\ninto his dingy, dark grocery-store, keep it with him in shop or stall,\nbut do people ever carry it with them into scenes of frivolity and\ndissipation? What place has the Christian faith in the ball-room?\n\nThe family at the Golden mansion were at dinner. Clarence Golden,\nDuncan McNair's old crony, was at home for the holidays. It was he who\nsaid\u2014\n\n\"Well, I suppose all you good people are going to the hall tonight? I\nsuppose it is the best thing a fellow can do up here in this stupid\ntown. Amateur acting! That will be something to see, I imagine. You'll\ngo, I presume?\" addressing the question to his sister-in-law, whom we\nhave known as Louise Loring.\n\n\"I think not.\"\n\n\"Why not? Will it be any more stupid than staying at home?\"\n\n\"I shall not stay at home.\"\n\n\"Where\u2014oh, yes, I remember, it is Wednesday evening. That's your\nevening out,\" he said, laughing. \"Well, there'll be time to go after.\nI presume the entertainment will last through the night. I'll wait for\nyou. Or do you expect your husband will be home in time?\"\n\n\"I do not expect him, and I should not go in any case. I never attend\nentertainments of that sort.\"\n\n\"Oh, but, Louise, this must be all right; at least two of your saintly\nsort are among the managers.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for that, Clarence, but it does not change my opinion.\"\n\nAs the rest of the family left the table, these two lingered, and\nClarence said\u2014\n\n\"Well, Louise, I'll tell you frankly I had begun to think there was\nsomething in this religion of yours, and to wish I had a little of it\nabout me; but this upsets it all. I cannot feel any great confidence\nin a faith that makes so little difference in its disciples. I used\nto think I saw a great change in Duncan, and ever since that winter\nwhen he was converted, I have had a sort of wish that I had gone over\nto that side then. But nowadays, he seems very like the rest of us\nsinners.\"\n\nMrs. Golden's heart was very sad. She liked her young brother-in-law,\nand earnestly desired to see him numbered with Christ's friends, and\nit seemed very discouraging that he should be turned back by the\ninconsistency of one who professed to love the Saviour. The sadness was\nin her voice as she spoke.\n\n\"Clarence, do you think the error lies in the faith itself, or in the\nmistaken lives of those who profess it?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I'm sure. It appears to me that there should be in it a\npower that would prevent such mistakes and inconsistencies.\"\n\n\"You are right. I can assure you that there is a strength and wisdom\nthat comes through faith in Christ, which will be given to us in\nmeasure according to our love and obedience. I cannot explain how your\nfriend Duncan has made what I feel, with you, is a great mistake; but,\nClarence, this world, the things seen and of to-day, are very alluring.\"\n\nAs the young man rose to go, she added\u2014\"The Christian faith is worth\nhaving, Clarence, if you only would look away from human frailties and\ntake Christ into your heart and life!\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n\"There are enough half-way Christians already; and I don't suppose that\nI should be any more in earnest than the rest of them.\"\n\nHe went half-way down the hall thinking of Louise's sad face. Turning\nback, he said\u2014\n\n\"See here, sister, I'd just as lief go to church with you tonight, if\nyou want me.\"\n\n\"I do want you,\" she said, with a meaning smile.\n\nA copy of the Westville \"News\" found its way into the little room where\nHerbert and Lewie were spending the last year of their college course.\nLewie having undertaken to read the news items for Herbert's benefit as\nwell as his own, lighted upon the announcement which was causing such a\ncommotion at home. A long discussion followed, but I will only repeat\nthe conclusion.\n\n\"Well, you see, Herbert, that Duncan's religion is not so very\ndifferent from mine, after all. He professes something more, but his\npractice does not agree. I think I'll wait until I see more consistency\nupon the part of others, before I get dissatisfied with my own way of\nthinking.\"\n\nAnd yet Duncan feared that stricter living would repel others!\n\nSo many had expressed their sorrow and disapprobation that Duncan\nwondered at Dr. Myers's silence. Though he met him every day, he did\nnot refer to the matter; and much as the young man desired to hear his\nviews, he dared not ask a question. He was just leaving the office on\nTuesday evening when he met the doctor.\n\n\"Ah! Here you are!\" said the gentleman. \"I'm glad to find you. It\nsaves me a walk up to the house. You remember Dr. Grovesner, to whom I\nintroduced you once in Now York?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed I do! I should not be likely to forget one who impressed\nme in the way he did. Wasn't he a grand man?\n\n\"I tell you,\" he added, laughing, \"he is one of the few men I could\nreverence.\"\n\n\"Well, I remembered your enthusiasm, and this is what I came for. Dr.\nGrovesner has been making a tour in the West, and I have just received\na telegram which says he will stop here to-morrow, from noon until the\nleaving of the night express. Now, will you meet him at tea to-morrow?\nHe is the man who has done more for me than anybody else in the world,\nand I would like to have you get the benefit of his society, even for a\nshort time.\"\n\nWhat would Duncan McNair not have given to have been free to accept\nthat invitation? He heartily wished the reunion had been in South\nAfrica or some remote region, else that he had a less important part in\nthe carrying out of the programme. It would never do to desert now, he\nthought. Every minute would be occupied; there was no chance to slip in\nat the doctor's, and if there were, what pleasure would it be with his\nmind in such a whirl of excitement? He understood his friend too well\nto suspect that it was a scheme contrived in order to punish him. He\nmust make some reply, and he stammered out\u2014\n\n\"I'd like to meet your friend, but\u2014I\u2014you know there's doings at the\nhall. I shall have to be there.\"\n\n\"I know, but I thought perhaps you could get off. Are you so very much\nneeded there?\"\n\n\"I suppose there is no one who could take my place now. I wish I could,\nbut I can't. You'll have to excuse me. Thank you very much for thinking\nof me.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, very sorry, Duncan. Good night.\"\n\nIn the doctor's tones there was more than a passing regret that he\ncould not have his young friend's company to tea, and Duncan heard all\nthey expressed.\n\nDuncan McNair was not the sort of person to keep a journal. Generally,\nhe kept his inmost thoughts to himself, except when he talked to the\npavement or the window curtains, or some other inanimate thing without\nthe power of revealing secrets. If he had made a true record of his\nspiritual life at that time, and we had been privileged with a peep at\nthe pages, we might have found records like these:\u2014\n\n   \"Spent this day without prayer.\n\n   \"Haven't had time for a single verse.\n\n   \"Went to prayer-meeting tonight for the sake of appearance; found it\ndull; wonder what the reason is?\n\n   \"A prayerless day. I spend a great many such.\n\n   \"It is a fact that if I am following Christ at all, it is afar off.\nHow did I ever get so nearly out of sight of the Leader? I hardly ever\nread or pray in my closet nowadays.\n\n   \"Worldly duties and pleasures give me no time for spiritual growth.\"\n\nHow soon a prayerless Christian finds he has lost his hold upon Jesus!\nI have written a prayerless Christian! The words sound very strangely.\nIf you call yourself a Christian, and yet are living without prayer,\nwould it not be well to stop and inquire what right you have to the\nname? And this was the question that was presently brought home to\nDuncan's conscience. Just now he was too busy, too much engrossed with\npleasure seeking, to give place to the duty of self-examination.\n\nThe next morning after the reunion, he met Mr. Earle.\n\n\"Good morning.\"\n\n\"Good morning, sir.\"\n\n\"Well, Duncan, did it pay?\"\n\n\"I can't tell, sir,\" replied Duncan lightly. \"We haven't reckoned up\nthe accounts yet.\"\n\n\"Just so! Perhaps you'll find it a little troublesome getting in all\nthe loss and gain, eh?\"\n\nDuncan was disturbed and annoyed. \"What a fuss people do make about a\nsmall matter,\" he said, talking to the pavement now, for Mr. Earle had\nnot lingered for any further conversation.\n\nAnd when the next Sabbath evening, the pastor took for his text the old\nand awfully solemn words\u2014\n\n   \"What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his\nown soul?\"\n\nHe recalled Mr. Earle's suggestion of a difficult reckoning; and,\nlistening to the fearful truths presented, the conviction came over him\nthat, after all, it was hardly worth the while to risk the loss of the\nSaviour's friendship for miserable and unsatisfying worldly pleasures.\n\nDuncan McNair might have appropriated the words of the Psalmist,\u2014\n\n   \"As for me, my feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped.\"\n\nBut the loving Saviour with pitying eye was watching for the wanderer's\nreturn; not only watching, but calling.\n\nIt might have been a week later that Duncan was one morning hurrying\ndown Elm Street upon a rather unusual errand. Mrs. McNair had the\nheadache, and, being unable to fulfil a promise previously made, had\nchosen Duncan as her deputy.\n\nHaving no reasonable excuse to offer, he accepted the appointment\ngraciously, but as he walked rapidly down the street, as if to have the\nbusiness over with, he thought, \"This is a queer thing to ask me to do.\nI sha'n't know a word to say. I wonder if a fellow ought to look very\nsober and solemn? Wonder if the boy is very sick?\"\n\nHalting at the door of a small house, he rapped. A sad-faced woman came\nto the door, to whom he said\u2014\n\n\"Mother, Mrs. McNair, is sick this morning, and I came to inquire after\nthe sick boy, and to bring this\u2014\" handing a small parcel.\n\n\"Thank you. Walk in.\"\n\nAs Duncan entered and sat down, he heard a feeble voice in the next\nroom say, \"Has she come?\"\n\n\"No, Davy,\" the sad-faced woman replied. \"She is sick, but she sent you\nthis jelly and some oranges.\"\n\n\"They are very nice; she is very good, but I wanted to see her,\" was\nthe reply of the sick boy. \"Won't she come at all?\"\n\n\"Please, sir,\" said the mother to Duncan, \"will you walk in and see my\npoor boy? He is disappointed at not seeing the lady. Maybe you could\nsay a word to comfort him.\"\n\n\"Are you her son?\" asked the invalid.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Duncan, smiling.\n\n\"Then maybe you know Jesus?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" a little doubtfully this time.\n\n\"The lady your mother has told me about Him, and she always prays to\nHim, and I thought maybe you had learned how. I pray a little when I am\nalone, but I don't know how very well, and I am so weak it tires me to\nthink of the words. I guess He hears me, though; but when she prays, it\nseems as if Jesus came and stood right by us, and that's the reason I\nwanted her. Call you pray?\"\n\n\"Not like her,\" answered Duncan.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" said the boy, so sadly that his visitor grew sad and\nsorrowful likewise.\n\n\"I should think you'd learn,\" continued Davy. \"I have learned a little\nmyself, but I want some one that knows Him better than I do to ask\nJesus to receive me when I go.\"\n\n\"But my mother will probably be able to come and see you in a day or\ntwo.\"\n\n\"I don't think I shall be here. The doctor says I may die suddenly. It\nwill be all right, I suppose. I can trust Him. But\u2014don't you think you\ncould speak to Him?\"\n\nDuncan's thoughts were in a perfect tumult. What could he do? Whatever\npossessed him to come here? He might have known better. Could he resist\nthe pleading voice and eyes of the sufferer? But should he dare to pray\nnow and here, when he had not prayed in his closet for weeks! Only last\nThursday evening, at the young people's meeting, he had declined to\nlead in prayer, saying to the leader, \"I can't tonight;\" and saying to\nhimself, \"I'm a miserable hypocrite: I call myself a Christian, and yet\nI don't dare to pray.\"\n\nBut Davy waited, watching him with those great eager eyes.\n\nHe must say something, but he could not pray.\n\n\"Don't you want me to sing for you?\" he asked.\n\n\"Oh, yea, I'd like that, it you can't pray.\"\n\nSo Duncan sang a sweet little hymn, and when it was ended, acting upon\na new idea, he slid down upon his knees beside the dying child, and\nsaid\u2014\n\n   \"Jesus, friend of sinners, I would speak to Thee for this sick boy.\nWilt Thou come and stand very near to him, and support him as he goes\nfrom this life into the next? He loves and trusts Thee. Do not let his\nfaith falter; do not withdraw thyself from him until he goes to be\nwhere he shall ever dwell in Thy presence.\"\n\nThe words were few, but the longing heart was satisfied, and the feeble\nvoice just whispered,\u2014\n\n\"He heard\u2014he came.\"\n\nDuncan hurried away, the tumult in his soul in no degree stilled. He\nhad fought many hard battles with that fiery temper and headstrong will\nof his, but never had he passed through such a struggle as that day\nwitnessed. In the evening, he went again to the young people's meeting.\nWithout waiting to be asked this time, he said, \"Last Thursday evening,\nI refused to pray. The truth is, I dared not pray as a Christian, and\nI was not prepared to humble myself and confess my sin. Tonight I am\nready to acknowledge that I have wandered far from the white line which\nI have so long professed to follow, but I am glad to say that I think\nI have found the true path again. I will tell you how I got astray.\nWorldly pleasures enticed me, and I set aside the apostolic command,\n'Be not conformed to the world.' Let us pray.\"\n\nBut Clarence Golden was not there to hear the confession of error, and\nyears after, the thought of Duncan would bring a curl to his lip, and\nthe bitter reflection, \"I was nearer to being a Christian that winter\nthan ever before or since, and if Duncan had been true, I might have\nbeen saved three years of doubt and scepticism.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\nWHERE WE LEAVE \"THOSE BOYS.\"\n\n   \"Men are only boys grown tall.\"\n\nLEWIE AMESBURY was packing up. His college days were over. Herbert had\nalready gone, expecting to return to enter the theological school. But\nas Lewie's leave-taking was supposed to be final, his preparations for\ndeparture took more time. Two or three fellow students were in the\nroom helping, saying \"good-bye,\" talking over their late triumphs, or\nlounging listlessly about.\n\nFrom the dark corner of the closet, Lewie had just brought out a medley\nof garments, dusty, worn, and old-fashioned. Fairly aching for a\nfrolic, Fred Torrey seized upon the veritable hat that once hung upon\nthe rack in Mr. Bradford's hall, speckless and glossy.\n\n\"Hurrah!\" he exclaimed, as he fished out the shabby old thing. \"Here's\nan old acquaintance! Say, Amesbury, how did you feel when you first put\nthat hat on?\"\n\n\"Try it on and see for yourself,\" was the curt reply.\n\n\"Oh, it would fit Baker here better,\" and Torrey attempted to put the\nbattered old hat upon Baker's head; but that young gentleman suggested\n\"spiders,\" and tossed it from him, whereupon a very undignified scuffle\nensued, and the \"old acquaintance,\" banged and bruised, was kicked back\nand forth until Fred Torrey conceived the brilliant idea of turning it\ninside out. Suddenly, he exclaimed\u2014\n\n\"Well, now, this is rich! Say, Amesbury, when did you turn tract\ndistributor? Must have lent your hat to Bradford sometimes. Pretty\npiece of literature for you to carry about!\"\n\n\"What is it?\" asked two or three voices.\n\n\"Just be quiet, will you? I can't deliver my sermon in such a din.\"\n\nThen he proceeded to read out the solemn appeal. The little messenger\nwhich Julia Bradford had so long ago sent to speak words of warning,\nwhich she found in her heart but could not bring to her lips, had at\nlast come forth from its hiding place.\n\nLewie had not been engaged in the frolic, and he now turned from the\nbox of books which he was packing, saying\u2014\n\n\"Come, Torrey, we've had enough of that. What have you got, and where\ndid you get it?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! What and where! It is some of your own treasures. I supposed\nyou'd be willing to share your good things. Never mind, I can get a\nsupply from the Tract Society, I suppose.\"\n\nTo which piece of nonsense Lewie made no reply, but reached out his\nhand for the yellow and worn paper, which Torrey relinquished, saying\u2014\n\n\"Come on, Baker, if we make those calls, and get off by the five\no'clock train, we've got to hurry.\"\n\nLewie was left alone with the dingy tract in his hand. As soon as\nhis visitors were out of hearing, he walked over to the door, turned\nthe key, and leaving his books half packed, sat down to read the\nmessage that he could not turn away from. The language was simple\nand commonplace, but the truths were awfully solemn. He had heard\nthem all before\u2014heard them from the pulpit, read them in the Bible,\npartly assenting and partly denying, but never led by them into a real\nexperience of the power of Christ's love. But now and here was God's\ntime and way to answer the prayers of teacher and friends; and when\nLewie Amesbury, the self-satisfied moralist, read,\u2014\n\n   \"Remember that there is no salvation in any other, no other name\ngiven under heaven whereby we must be saved; only by casting yourself\nupon him, renouncing self-righteousness and self-dependency, can you\nhope for salvation\u2014\"\n\nHow mean and miserable his past life looked to him! And he had presumed\nto set aside Christ's atonement as quite unnecessary in his case,\nbuilding his hopes for eternity upon his own good works! \"No salvation\nin any other.\" He had not entirely denied Christ, but he had not made\nhim a Saviour. In his own thoughts, he had endeavoured to follow\nChrist's precepts. Now there seemed a great lack in his life. What\nshould fill it? This was the question that absorbed his thoughts for\nmany days; but the answer came as it comes to those who really seek.\n\nThree months afterward, Fred Torrey was hurrying down Broadway when a\nvoice arrested him.\n\n\"See here, Tor, if it isn't a life, or a million that is at stake,\nsuppose you stop and speak to an old crony?\"\n\n\"Ah, Baker, glad to see you. I have no special need of haste, though I\nhave several things to do this afternoon. I'm off to-morrow.\"\n\n\"For Europe? Does Amesbury go with you?\" asked Baker.\n\n\"Amesbury? Haven't you heard? He has gone back with Bradford to study\nfor the ministry.\"\n\n\"Amesbury study for the ministry!\" repeated Baker. \"You are quizzing.\"\n\n\"Not at all. It is the solemn truth, queer as it seems.\"\n\n\"Well, a sudden turn around I should say.\"\n\n\"I have a note from him,\" said Torrey: \"Let me see\u2014no, I haven't it\nabout me. He says that the purposes of his life have changed, that he\njust begins to see the real meaning of Christ's life and death, and\nmore in that strain. He is evidently in earnest. If I had time, I'd\nlook into the matter. There must be something in a religion that wins\nover a fellow like Amesbury.\"\n\n\"I know reckless sort of sinners like you and me are apt to go from one\nextreme to another, but steady, cautious fellows of his stamp are hard\nto turn. I wonder what did it?\"\n\n\"I'm sure I don't know\u2014though I can't help thinking that that dirty,\ndingy tract that I resurrected had something to do with it.\"\n\n\"I shouldn't wonder,\" said Baker thoughtfully; then the conversation\ndrifted to other topics.\n\nThe years passed away, four more of them. Mrs. Judge McNair, just\nseated in her mother's room, was saying,\u2014\n\n\"No, I won't take off my hat. I mustn't stop long. Father said you were\nnot well last evening, so I thought I must run up a few moments, if I\ndid not get everything done.\"\n\n\"Oh, you expect your boys!\"\n\n\"Why, mother,\" laughed the younger lady, \"do you forget that they are\ngrown-up, really men doing their work among men?\"\n\n\"Well, I suppose so. But how large a party do you intend to have?\"\n\n\"Only about twenty\u2014Mr. and Mrs. Earle, Dr. Myers and Lou, Mr. Golden\nand Louise, and a few more.\"\n\n\"When are Herbert and Jenny to go?\"\n\n\"In about a week,\" replied Mabel. \"Mr. Turner is very urgent. It is\nwonderful what a work that man has done. They have a little church\nquite finished, and a part of the salary pledged; and six or seven\nyears ago there was no such thing known as the Sabbath. One or two who\nhad been church members at the East, but who had been living away from\nChrist, awakened by his example, and took hold of the work with him. It\nis remarkable how God raises up his workers.\"\n\n\"But don't you feel that it is a great pity that Jenny and Herbert\nshould bury themselves way off there?\"\n\n\"I don't think it is a pity at all,\" returned Mrs. McNair, with\nearnestness. \"It seems a grand field for labour. I am glad they are\ncalled to it. It seems that Nicholas has had his thoughts turned toward\nHerbert as their future minister almost ever since he went out there;\nbut Herbert was quite decided about remaining at the East, until lately\nthe indications of Providence have seemed so pointed that he could not\nrefuse to go. The Lord seems to guide him by baffling his own plans,\nand shutting him up to one path.\"\n\n\"Ah! Mabel, you are just as queer as ever!\"\n\n\"Queer, is she? Well, I wish we were all as queer!\" The last speaker\nwas Mr. Wynn, who had just entered. \"I'd be glad to find the\nsatisfaction in religion that you do, Mabel.\"\n\n\"Ah! Father, I am sure that if you looked there for satisfaction as\nearnestly as you do to the world, you would find it.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so. Well, I am going to retire from business next year; then I\nshall have time to pay more attention to religious matters.\"\n\nMabel did not reply, only smiled sadly, as she thought how persistently\nher father separated the things that ought to go together.\n\nPresently Mrs. Wynn exclaimed,\u2014\n\n\"Why, Mabel, what a company of ministers you'll have! Tom Nichols and\nHerbert and young Amesbury, besides Mr. Earle.\"\n\n\"Well, child,\" said Mr. Wynn, \"you did pretty well to train up two\npreachers from that class.\"\n\n\"Two! Why, father, they are nearly all preachers. All but one, and I\nexpect that he will be. There's Arthur Knapp away in Colorado, and if\nhis life is at all what his letters indicate (and he is no hypocrite),\nhe is preaching Christ most effectively. I insist that every Christian\nman and woman ought by their daily living to hold up Christ as the one\nperfect pattern and the only Saviour. Then there's Henry Trafton, his\npictures are lessons of truth and purity. The one the judge bought last\nwinter is as good as a sermon to me whenever I look at it, which is\npretty often. And Duncan is growing more like his father every year.\"\n\n\"It is a fact, those boys have turned out well. I thought one while\nthat Perry Morse would go to ruin sure, but his father tells me he is\ndoing well. As for that matter, I believe they were rather a hard set.\nHow did you manage them, Mabel?\"\n\n\"In the first place, they were not a 'hard set' at all. They were just\nlike any other half dozen boys, and I never managed at all. I had faith\nin them and faith in God's promises. I tried to teach them what it was\nto follow Christ, and to show them how much easier and better to follow\nclosely than afar off.\"\n\n\"But,\" continued Mrs. McNair, rising, \"I really must not stop. Mother,\ndo you think you will be able to come over this evening?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" Mr. Wynn answered for her. \"We will look in at your\n'ministers' meeting.'\"\n\nUpon her way home, Mabel took a letter from the office. Here it is:\n\n   \"MY DEAR FRIEND:\u2014I have very pleasant things to write. In those dark\ndays just before I left Westville, I never expected to see such good\ntimes as these. God has dealt very mercifully with me. In my time of\ndisgrace and despair, he raised up kind friends for me, and in those\nyears since, he has followed me with loving-kindness, and yet I have\nnot been mindful of him. If I have led a different life since I came\nhere, it was not from love to Christ. If I have outwardly kept pretty\nnear the white line, it was because it seemed the better way in a\nworldly point of view. But for several months I have been dissatisfied\nwith my life and its motives. I seemed to need something higher.\n\n   \"At last the long, weary struggle over, I yield to Christ a loving\nservice, and accept the joy and peace which fills my need. Yesterday I\njoined with his own people in the holy communion. I mean to be earnest\nand true. I trust that I shall still be one for whom you pray.\n\n   \"You will doubtless be interested in hearing of some of the new\nbusiness arrangements. Your good brother-in-law has taken me into\npartnership. He reckons my youth and business capacity as an offset to\nhis money capital. He proposes to retire from active life (so far as\nthe store is concerned) and leave the business in my care. You will see\nhow he trusts me. Once I should have been very vain of such a trust,\nnow I look to Christ for grace to sustain it. I should like to be in\nWestville while Herbert and Lewie are there, but I think I cannot leave\nat present. May God go with them and bless them in their work.\n\n                     \"As ever, your old pupil,\n\n                                       \"PERRY MORSE.\"\n\n\"At last! Oh, I knew God would not fail me. He never has!\"\n\nWith this thought, Mrs. McNair slipped her letter back into its\nenvelope, smoothed her hair and went down to dinner.\n\nAnd so they were all following at last. As they were far from\nperfection as boys, so they are far from being perfect men. It takes\nyears of Christian living and learning before we reach that higher\nplane where grace so abounds that sin has no foothold. But for fine\nspecimens of noble Christian manhood, you need not go outside the\nlittle circle of \"Those Boys,\" who have found that their chosen motto,\nwhile it is narrow as regards being of the world, is yet broad in all\nChristian aims.\n\n\n\n                            THE END.\n\n\n\nPRINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE AND CO., LIMITED, CITY ROAD, LONDON.\n\n\n\n                       THE PANSY BOOKS.\n\n   THERE are substantial reasons for the great popularity of the \"PANSY\nBOOKS,\" and foremost among these is their truth to nature and to life.\nThe genuineness of the types of character which they portray is indeed\nremarkable; their heroes bring us face to face with every phase of\nhome life, and present graphic and inspiring pictures of the actual\nstruggles through which victorious souls must go.\n\n   Messrs. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, to meet a demand that has arisen\nfor first-rate Sunday School Books, have issued the above Series, now\nhaving an enormous sale in America. They are published in crown 8vo,\n384 pages in each, bound in cloth.\n\n\n             _PRICES OF ROUTLEDGE'S EDITIONS OF_\n\n                      THE PANSY BOOKS.\n\n  1. In crown 8vo, cloth, price 1s. each.\n\n  2. In crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 1s. 6d. each.\n\n  3. In crown 8vo, cloth gilt, with Frontispieces, price 2s. each.\n\n  4. In crown 8vo, cloth gilt, gilt edges, with Frontispieces,\n     price 2s. 6d. each.\n\n\n        _For List of the Series, see next page._\n\n\n\n                      THE PANSY BOOKS.\n\n                  _ROUTLEDGE'S EDITIONS._\n\n   1. FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA.\n   2. LITTLE FISHERS AND THEIR NETS.\n   3. THREE PEOPLE.\n   4. ECHOING AND RE-ECHOING.\n   5. CHRISTIE'S CHRISTMAS.\n   6. DIVERS WOMEN.\n   7. SPUN FROM FACT.\n   8. THE CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME.\n   9. THE POCKET MEASURE.\n  10. JULIA RIED.\n  11. WISE AND OTHERWISE.\n  12. THE KING'S DAUGHTER.\n  13. LINKS IN REBECCA'S LIFE.\n  14. INTERRUPTED.\n  15. THE MASTER HAND.\n  16. AN ENDLESS CHAIN.\n  17. ESTER RIED.\n  18. ESTER RIED YET SPEAKING.\n  19. THE MAN OF THE HOUSE.\n  20. RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES.\n  21. HOUSEHOLD PUZZLES.\n  22. MABEL WYNN.\n  23. MODERN PROPHETS.\n  24. THE RANDOLPHS.\n  25. MRS. SOLOMON SMITH LOOKING ON.\n  26. FROM DIFFERENT STANDPOINTS.\n  27. A NEW GRAFT ON THE FAMILY TREE.\n  28. PROFILES.\n  29. SIDNEY MARTIN'S CHRISTMAS.\n  30. TIP LEWIS AND HIS LAMP.\n  31. EIGHTY-SEVEN.","title":"Mabel Wynn : $b or, \"Those boys\"","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":59498}