"Haste thee on, from grace to glory,
Armed by faith, and winged by prayer!
Heaven's eternal day's before thee,
God's own hand shall guide thee there."
Mabel was now silently crying, and big tears were blinding my eyes,
when a grand old man rose from his seat. Bent and feeble now, I could
see that he had once been tall and stately, looking as the Puritan
fathers must have looked when they first stepped upon "the stern and
rock-bound coast" at Plymouth. Fine, clean-cut features, and eyes
still blue and piercing remained, but his voice trembled painfully as
he said,--
"I am ninety-four years old, and most of those I love have gone to the
graveyard before me; I have lived all these years in Bethlehem, and,
boy and man, have tried to serve the Lord: and I owe my blessed hope
in my Saviour to the teaching and example of my good and pious
mother." Then, with aged, trembling hands uplifted, he prayed that all
the children present might be brought up in the nurture and admonition
of the Lord.
Near us was a handsome, well-dressed man, past middle age, who had
listened with absorbed attention to all that had been said, and who
now seemed strangely agitated. In a moment he arose, and then he
spoke.
"I presume that no one here remembers a poor boy who nearly fifty
years ago left this place to seek his fortune. Fatherless, motherless,
with no claim upon any one here, I wandered away with a heavy heart to
earn my bread. Many a time have I been exhausted, discouraged, almost
hopeless; but my mother had taught me to pray--her dying gift to me
was her own Bible. It has gone round the world with me, and God has
never forsaken me. I have long been a rich man, and I have come once
more to these grand hills--my childhood's home--to testify my
gratitude to my Maker for all his goodness. I never intended to speak
as I am now doing; but after what I have heard and witnessed, I should
be most ungrateful if I did not give my testimony and belief in the
abounding love and mercy of God. O friends! take me back! Let me be
one with you in this most sweet and touching service, and when I leave
you, pray that I may never be ungrateful for the earthly blessings he
has heaped upon me, and for the far more priceless gift of his Son,
Jesus Christ."
Every one had listened to the stranger in deep silence. Every heart
had thrilled responsive to his words. It seemed as if the very breath
of Heaven had entered into the little church, cleansing and purifying
each soul present, and filling it with inexpressible devotion, when,
like a soft, trembling wave, the pure young voice came floating down
the aisles, and we heard the solemn acknowledgment,--
"A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify;
A precious, blood-bought soul to save,
And fit it for the sky."
She sang alone; a feeling too deep for utterance had prevented the
rest from joining in, and many heads were bent in silent prayer and
thanksgiving.
But oh! what did I see? Pale as death, her eyes dilated, her whole
frame quivering like an aspen, Mabel arose and essayed to speak. The
muscles of her mouth refused to obey her will, but with a painful
effort she faltered in low, broken tones, "Pray for me," and sank down
upon her knees.
It was the voice of God that spoke in those three little words, "_Pray
for me_," uttered so low, yet distinctly heard in every part of the
church. Joyful tears were streaming down many women's faces, as for
the first time the singer's voice trembled, broke, and at last sobbed
through the humble entreaty,--
"Just as I am--without one plea,
But that thy blood was shed for me,
And that thou bid'st me come to thee,
O Lamb of God, I come."
As she finished, a young minister who was living in the same house
with us, and whose life had been nearly sacrificed in missionary
labors, bowed in prayer. The radiance of Heaven was upon his face, and
God spoke through him to the awakened soul of Mabel in a way I had
never heard before. The words poured out in an inspired flood,
carrying her soul resistless upon its mighty waves to repentance,
faith, prayer, praise, love, joy, peace, and at last heaven!
With a solemn benediction the services were ended; and when we had
come out, it seemed as if the very heavens were rejoicing over the
tidings which had gone up of the soul that day redeemed. All that was
gorgeous and beautiful in color had taken possession of the sky. The
clouds, like great gold and crimson banners, were moving high over our
heads, furling and unfurling, as if carried by exultant angels,
marching and singing their triumphant allelujahs.
And Mabel, still white as an Easter lily, but with her deep gray eyes
full of a new happiness, a steadfast resolution to live henceforth for
Christ, walked by my side, watching the great glory of the heavens,
with her arm lovingly entwined in mine. We did not speak; we had no
need, for our thoughts were in perfect accord. I had witnessed the
wonderful mystery of her instantaneous "change of heart;" I knew it
was well with her.
Beautiful, gay, fashionable, the pet of society, I knew her also to be
a staunch upholder of all that was noble, good, and pure, and I felt a
thorough conviction that she had indeed given herself up body and soul
to Him who had chosen to send his Holy Spirit into her heart, as she
was going out of the little village which bore the blessed name of
_Bethlehem_.
However it be, it seems to me,
'Tis only noble to be good.
Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood.