among the poor with her father, but never before had she come into
contact with quite so unusual a character as Mrs. Gray. Finding that her
only opportunity to state her errand was to interrupt the loquacious
speaker, she determined to wait no longer.
"Mrs. Gray, I have come to tell you that you will never again be
troubled by grandpa or Rosa. Grandpa is in my home, and the physician
says that he can live but a few hours longer. He has had a raging fever,
but that has left now; he is entirely rational and wishes to see you
before the Master calls.
"My carriage is waiting. There is no time to lose. Put on your wraps and
come immediately."
So surprised was Mrs. Gray that for the instant an almost unprecedented
thing occurred: she could think of nothing to say. But endeavoring to
gain her normal poise, she turned upon Rosa.
"Well, you heard what the lady said! Father, the dear old soul, of
course he wants to see me before he dies, after all I've done fer him;
but how lonely it'll be without him! Seems like I can see him a-settin'
over there in his chair now, a-lookin' out of the winder, like he did
'most all day sometimes."
At this appropriate juncture, she made a fruitless effort to shed a few
tears, but, to be charitable, the deepest sorrow cannot find expression
in tears.
"You can stay here, Rosa, and have supper ready when I git back, and
make me some tea; I'll need it to settle my nerves. Take them fine
clothes off, too, before you spoil 'em. I want you to learn to be
savin', like I've always been. And give that grease spot another
scrubbin', and go to the corner grocery and git--"
"No, Mrs. Gray," vehemently interposed Esther, "did I not tell you that
Rosa is never going to live with you again? You are about to realize
your dream of liberty, for which without a doubt you are duly grateful.
You seem to feel that both grandpa and Rosa have been intolerable
burdens."
Esther was the repetition of her father, and when the case demanded
could be firm and commandingly dignified.
Again Mrs. Gray was speechless. For so long she had been absolute
monarch in her small realm, with none daring to question or to rise in
rebellion, that it was a revelation to find in a young woman like Esther
an opposite and stronger force with which to reckon.
For the first time in her life she was completely conquered, and without
another word marched solemnly down to the carriage.
"This is an opportunity," thought Esther, "and may I be directed in all
I say."
Not wishing this woman possessed of a hard heart and a shriveled soul to
stand in awe of her any longer, a few kind and ordinary remarks soon
accomplished the desired end.
"Well, Miss Esther, you ain't told me how it's all come about. I can't
fer the life of me think, and it all seems so strange. I jest can't git
it through my head that father's a-goin' to die. Are you real sure of
it? Mebbe there's a mistake."
"No, Mrs. Gray, there is no mistake. In a few hours he will be safe
forever in the better land."
Esther's power of narration was well developed. Going into the minute
details, she simply told the whole story, while Mrs. Gray attentively
listened without an interruption. There were indications that the
hitherto impregnable fortress of this untutored woman's heart was
beginning to totter. But is there after all in this great world a heart
so loveless, so blackened by sin, or so narrowed by its own selfish
domain, as to be entirely invincible? Cannot the love emanating from
Christ Himself, flowing through the channel of a surrendered life, leave
its impress where all else fails?
Esther's observant eye noted the change, then skilfully she began
speaking of the Lord as a personal Saviour.
Presently tears began rolling down the hardened cheeks, causing the
young messenger to feel that victory was almost certain.
Upon reaching the Fairfax home, Mrs. Gray was ushered into a room, which
to her seemed magnificent.
Grandpa was lying upon an immaculate bed, while everything surrounding
him was far more indicative of loving thoughtfulness than of luxury. In
his hand he clasped a beautiful rose, because during his rational
moments he so often spoke of the "pretty roses a-growin' by the brook
down in the lane." The rose was presented by none other than Dr. Dale,
not--so he assured himself--that he was in the least sympathetic with
the Fairfaxes in their eccentric freak. It was simply for the good of
the patient that all small whims be humored.
Upon a nearby table was Esther's violin. During the long hours of the
preceding night, when the burning fever produced a great restlessness
in the weary sufferer, nothing soothed him but the low, sweet strains of
music.
Now he was calm, and for the first time since Tom died clothed in his
right mind.
"Sary, how be you?" he feebly asked, as she slowly walked up to his
side. "I'm so glad you've come, fer it's all straightened out now, and I
want to thank you afore I go fer all you've done fer me. And may
somebody take care of you real kind when you git old and can't work no
more. I've been a big bother, Sary. You've had a good deal to put up
with since Tom died, but you've been mighty kind. You've always give me
enough to eat, and kep' me warm, and you've had to work awful hard to do
it. I thank you, Sary, and may God bless you! But I do want you to find
Jesus, the way to the beautiful land. You won't have it so hard there.
He's paid for everything, and it's free fer the askin'."
"Oh, father," she said, dropping upon her knees and weeping bitterly for
the first time in many years, "you ain't got nothin' to thank me fer.
I've never seen till jest this minute how awful mean I've been. You did
your very best to please me, and the harder you tried, the more I
scolded. I wish I'd been better to you. No, you ain't got nothin' at all
to thank me fer, and I'll miss you so! I don't know why I've never seen
it before, and you've always been so good. I'll never git over feelin'
mean about it, no, I never will, oh dear, dear!"
"There, there, Sary, don't cry! It's all right now."
Tenderly he stroked the hand which many times had been raised
threateningly against him, and tried to soothe the thoroughly
conscience-striken woman.
"Sary, I do want you to find Jesus. It's so mighty sweet to know Him,
and He'll help you over all the hard places,--He says He will; and He
always carries the heavy end of the load, too."
"I'm too wicked and mean, father. He wouldn't have me," she sobbed, "but
I wish He would; I need Him bad, and want help."
"Mrs. Gray,"--it was the minister who spoke and who had been a silent
witness of the pathetic scene,--"Jesus died to save you."
"I wish I knew it," she moaned, "but I'm too mean. I'm the biggest
sinner in the world to treat father and Rosa the way I have."
"If you are the biggest sinner in the world, then I know that Jesus died
to save you. Listen to His word: 'This is a faithful saying, and worthy
of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners; of whom I am chief.' You consider yourself the chief of
sinners, do you?"
"Yes, I do; I know I am."
"Who came to save the chief of sinners?"
"Why, the verse says Christ Jesus did."
"Yes, Mrs. Gray, that is true. Then whom did Jesus Christ come to save?"
"Oh, He came to save me, He came to save me! How could He ever do it?"
"Just because God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have
everlasting life. Do you believe it?"
"Yes, how can I help it, when He done all that?"
"Then if you believe in Him, what have you?"
"Everlasting life! Everlasting life!" Dreamily, yet joyously, she
repeated the words many times, trying to comprehend their fathomless
depths.
"But," she anxiously asked, "what about my sins? You don't know how mean
I've been."
"'And their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.'"
"Oh, thank God, thank God! He's give me everlasting life, and won't
remember my sins. I want to begin all over now, and do somethin' fer Him
before I die."
In broken petitions she poured forth her heart in prayer to God, while
at the same moment angelic songs were started anew around the throne
above. Another soul was born again.
Is there less rejoicing over there when the soul saved chances to be the
tenant of a roughly-hewn temple? Ah no, for it required the shedding of
just the same precious blood as for the souls of earth's greatest and
noblest!
An expression of unspeakable peace lighted up grandpa's happy face, as
he murmured:
"Oh, Sary, I'm so glad, so mighty glad! Now I'll tell Tom you're
a-comin', and we'll both be a-watchin' fer you. Won't we be happy when
we all git safe home? Goodby, Sary! You've always been a good woman,
yes, a very good woman, and now Jesus will take care of you. Goodby,
till we meet ag'in!"
The effort of speaking seemed to exhaust him perceptably, and he sank
off into a deep sleep.
It was evident that the end was near, and hastily Dr. Dale was summoned.
Upon examining his patient, he found that in a few minutes, or perhaps a
half an hour at the most, all would be over.
Silently they watched him. Rosa understood better now than she did a few
weeks before what the "moving" meant. She knew that she would be lonely
without grandpa, her one comforter through many a dark and dreary hour,
and the tears began to gather.
At this Dr. Dale became restless. Just to avoid a scene, he took the
little girl up into his arms, wiping away the tears and whispering words
of comfort.
Mrs. Gray sat nearest the dying man, gently smoothing back the snowy
locks from his forehead. His breath was growing shorter and shorter, but
there was no struggle. Suddenly his eyes opened, and with a smile of
recognition he greeted each one.
"Oh," he faintly whispered, "Jesus is the way, Jesus is the way! Sing to
me my song, won't you, please?"
With difficulty Esther and her father complied with the request, while
the doctor walked nervously up and down the room with Rosa still in his
arms.
"Oh, how sweet it will be in that beautiful land,
So free from all sorrow and pain,
With songs on our lips and with harps in our hands,
To meet one another again!"
As the words of the last verse died away, the soul took its flight to
rejoice forever in the presence of the King.
"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be
to God which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
[Illustration]
VIII.
DUST TO DUST.
The events of Sunday morning had occasioned much comment upon the part
of Dr. Fairfax's parishioners.
The majority, after taking time for consideration, approved, and became
intensely interested to know the outcome of the strange proceeding.
During the few hours of grandpa's illness many messengers called to
learn the latest news, and it cheered the pastor's heart to find that
after all he was far from being alone in his love for God's neglected
poor.
He had planned a quiet funeral, and was arranging to that effect when
requests from all sides began pouring in that it might be held in the
church.
"It is a signal opportunity, father," Esther had said when consulted, so
a public funeral was soon announced together with another innovation.
Instead of the customary floral offerings, it was suggested that the
people bring gifts of money to place upon the casket, to be used in the
forwarding of city mission work.
At the hour appointed, the small procession wended its way to the
church.
Dr. Dale had found it advisable for himself and wife to join the funeral
party. It was natural that Esther should look after Mrs. Gray, who never
before had been in so fine a building, and it would be awkward for her
to have charge of Rosa as well. Then really the child was very nervous
and might suddenly need professional attention. All things considered,
there was no alternative: he must keep her with him.
Both curiosity and genuine interest attracted a great crowd, causing the
pastor once more to feel his need of hiding behind the cross, that the
people might behold Jesus only.
In all his wide and varied experience, this funeral pre-eminently was
the most unique. Conventionality was laid aside. There was no sermon,
but the story of the last few days of the victor's life was told so
graphically that the audience was held in almost breathless silence.
"Brethren," said the speaker in closing, "how must we appear in the
sight of God, who loved us to the extent of giving His only Son to die
for our sins, when it is possible for one to live long, weary years in
our midst with none to tell him of Jesus? Can we expect ever to hear
from His lips the welcome plaudit, 'Well done!' when we are no more
zealous than this for the souls whom He came to save?
"I fear that many who profess to love Him will fall far short of the
'abundant entrance,' and will stand ashamed before Him at His appearing.
"Can it be true that we are selfish to the extent of being satisfied
simply with our own salvation, when His heart of infinite love and
compassion is yearning with unfathomable tenderness over the lost?
"We have the opportunity now which angels may well covet, that of
leading souls to Christ. This priceless privilege is intrusted to us
only for the one brief moment of our earthly existence, and how we
should prize it above all things else!
"Consider the fact that one million of years hence, yea, millions of
millions of years, your happiness and capacity for enjoying Christ and
heaven depend upon the manner of your spending this present vapor called
life. When eventually we are ushered through the gates of the Eternal
City, it will then be forever too late for this one blood-purchased
pleasure of telling salvation's story to the lost.
"It seems a paradox that it is possible for one to be a Christian
without having a consuming passion for souls. But in reality the whole
matter centers not upon our love for those around us, but upon our love
for the Lord Jesus Himself. When we are in unbroken fellowship with
Christ, the natural result is love for those so dear to Him. 'The love
of Jesus is not an absorbing, but a radiating love. The more we love
Him, the more shall we most certainly love others.' Each new revelation
of Himself graciously granted unto His followers only draws us the
nearer to Him, the fountain of eternal love, where we drink to our fill
and are imbued with an all-consuming desire to carry the life-giving
water unto others.
"Nor can we gaze long at the cross, at the cruelly mutilated brow of our
Saviour, at His body torn and bruised by the merciless scourging, at the
five bleeding wounds, nor can we listen to the cry of His broken heart,
'My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?' without being melted with
love and filled with a holy zeal to serve Him every moment of our lives.
One real view of the cross changes all. The things of this life, where
we shall be located and how we shall be situated, will have no more
effect upon us, if only we may glorify Him.
"Many have taken the first step, giving into His keeping their souls
for eternity, but will you not now, while beholding Him hanging on
yonder cross for you, give Him your lives as well? The only life worth
the living is the surrendered life. Time is uncertain, eternity sure.
Now and _only now_ may we prove to Him our love, and know the fellowship
of His sufferings.
"I ask every Christian here today, who is willing henceforth to yield
his life, his time, his all, unconditionally into the hands of the
Master and to go forth seeking those who need help, to arise."
The speaker, though pale from emotion, calmly folded his arms and looked
over the audience to see what the result might be.
He knew that the crisis in the life of his church had arrived, and
should the King have the victory, or no?
For a moment there was not a stir. Then the preacher himself could
scarcely believe what he saw.
Dr. Dale, still holding Rosa in his arms, slowly arose, love and
determination being depicted upon the hitherto cold and dignified
countenance. The effect was pronounced. Soon hundreds were upon their
feet, while some one started the song:
"I gave My life for thee,
My precious blood I shed
That thou might'st ransomed be
And quickened from the dead;
I gave My life for thee:
What hast thou done for Me?
"My Father's house of light,
My glory-circled throne,
I left for earthly night,
For wanderings sad and lone;
I left it all for thee:
Hast thou left aught for Me?
"I suffered much for thee,
More than thy tongue can tell,
Of bitterest agony,
To rescue thee from hell;
I've borne it all for thee:
What hast thou borne for Me?
"And I have brought to thee,
Down from my home above,
Salvation full and free,
My pardon and My love;
I bring rich gifts to thee:
What hast thou brought to Me?"
At the conclusion of the song the pastor led in a consecration prayer,
knowing that in many the bonds of worldliness were forever snapped
asunder, and that henceforth the victorious, overcoming life would be
theirs, making themselves heirs of the promise: "To him that overcometh
will I grant to sit with Me in My throne, even as I also overcame, and
am set down with My Father in His throne."
After a few moments of silence, the quartette softly sang "The Home of
the Soul," while a vast procession slowly marched before the casket,
placing upon it gifts of silver, gold and bank notes all in one great
heap.
At last all that was earthly of him whose simple life and final victory
had proven so powerful a sermon, was tenderly carried out and laid to
rest in a beautiful lot purchased by Dr. Dale, while the setting sun was
painting the western sky with almost heavenly glory.
"God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise;
and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things
which are mighty."
[Illustration]
IX.
"A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM."
The day was over.
Esther and her father, possessed of a calm, holy joy deeper than ever
before, were seated in his study, while with them were Dr. and Mrs.
Dale, Rosa and Mrs. Gray.
Esther had been undergoing a struggle, for it would be hard to give Rosa
up. She had planned to keep her as her own little sister, to educate
her, to train her in things both temporal and spiritual, and to guard
her till she should develop into a pure, strong, noble woman.
Now she felt that it must be otherwise, for evidently God had so
determined. Knowing that His will always would be her deliberate choice,
could she see the end from the beginning as He can, she was growing
positively happy at this unexpected turn of events. It was a part of her
religion not to be simply passively submissive to His will, but in it
always to rejoice. The psalmist's declaration, "I delight to do Thy
will, O my God," was the expression of her heart's desire.
Mrs. Dale, though with an eye upon the child, was quietly talking to
Mrs. Gray of the privileges and duties befalling the Christian.
Dr. Dale was clasping Rosa closely to his breast, while now and then a
tear dropped upon her curly head.
"Pastor," he said after a long interval of silence, "the battle has
raged fiercely since Sunday morning, but thanks be to God, He has given
me the strength with which to gain the victory.
"You know how selfish I have been, how taken up with the affairs of this
world and the amassing of riches. For many years I have had no vital
interest in other things. I have prided myself upon my uprightness and
morality, considering that I was a worthy example for any to follow, and
a decidedly successful man. Now the fallacy of my position I see, and
realize that the best part of my life has been wasted--more than wasted!
"When you walked down the aisle with Rosa and grandpa, Satan made upon
me a relentless onslaught. It seemed that there were two mighty and
opposing forces within, each struggling for the supremacy. I did not
yield entirely to the right till this afternoon, for I have gloried in
my reputation of being influenced by no one.
"For years I have not been satisfied, knowing myself to be slipping
farther and farther away from God. I have longed for the joy of my first
love, but He could not take me back with my hands so tenaciously holding
to the things of this world.
"Today the tempter told me that there would be no use in my
surrendering, for I would not prove true, and anyhow that it was only a
matter of excitement and not of firm conviction. I fully realize that I
have no power in myself, and that the first moment I look away from
Christ I shall fall. I am resting on the promise that He is able to keep
me from falling and to present me faultless before the presence of His
glory with exceeding joy.
"Your message Sunday and your message today burned deeply into my soul,
but it is this little girl whom God was pleased to use in the breaking
of my stony, icy heart. I wish to take her as my own daughter, knowing
that she will lead me still closer to the Lord she loves so well.
"Rosa," he asked tenderly, "are you willing to be my little girl
instead of my Margaret whom God has taken to Himself?"
For her answer she slipped her arms about his neck and kissed him, while
Mrs. Dale smiled through her tears upon the happy pair.
"My brother, may God bless you and keep you," fervently responded the
pastor, "leading you from victory up into victory.
"You are not the only one to be filled with gratitude for having been
brought under the influence of this child. I too view life differently,
seeing more clearly than ever the duty, nay, privilege of personal
soul-saving work for the Master. Rosa's quest has brought me face to
face with the insignificance of this world, and the realities of the
next. Her attitude is only what that of every true follower of God
should be. Our citizenship is in heaven; from whence also we look for
the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ. If we could only remember our
position in Him, the surrendered life would be the natural outcome, and,
like Rosa, our faces continually would be turned toward the beautiful
land.
"This is only another verification of the fact that a little child shall
lead them.
"Yes, it means a rich and new blessing to me!"
"And to me, too," softly sobbed Mrs. Gray, "fer it's all come through
her, the sweet lamb, and I've been a-threat'nin' to lick her. She was
that patient when my ankle was twisted, that I'll never fergit it, no
never! I can see now how she'd shake of fear when she'd come up to me,
then run to poor old father fer a bit of comfort. I didn't know it then,
but do now, that she was 'most a-starvin' fer the kind of love she
didn't git. How she must have missed her ma! Oh, I've been so awful
mean! I don't see how God can fergive me, but I know He has. I never
knew'd before that the Saviour is fer sech as me. Tom used to try to
tell me, and I wouldn't let him. He wuz good, and I wuzn't. And dear old
father! How happy he and Tom must be tonight, but it'll be dreadfully
lonesome with them all gone. I wish I could have Rosa back ag'in, though
I'm awful glad she's to have sech a good home. And I made sech a fuss
about a-keepin' her till spring. If it hadn't been fer her, I don't know
how I'd ever got along when I couldn't walk. But God has fergive me now,
and I feel like another woman."
"I'll go back with you, Mis' Gray," faltered Rosa, "if you want me to."
"No, my child, you promised to stay with me," interrupted the doctor,
"but you may visit Mrs. Gray every week, and I shall see that she never
wants for anything again."
[Illustration: Dr. Dale and Rosa.]
"Ain't He a wonderful Saviour?" said Mrs. Gray, brightening up. "I
can't see how 'tis, but I love them all over there on Burton street now,
and I used to be that ugly they're all afraid of me, I know. Seems like
I can hardly wait till mornin', I'm that anxious to git back to tell
them all about it. They're all so poor, and have sech heavy loads. They
need Him bad to help them, but they don't know He's promised to. And
Billy Bruce, the poor laddie, I want to tell him how sorry I am fer
a-tryin' to throw that piece of coal at him. His ma's drunk most of the
time, and so's his pa. He used to come to me fer somethin' to eat, and I
wouldn't give him a thing, but jest scold him and tell him to git out of
the way, fer I didn't feed beggars. He ain't never had no chance yet,
and I'm jest a-goin' to see what I can do fer him. He's got a good
heart, and once he told me I'd never lick Rosa if he wuz only a little
bigger. He'll run when he see me a-comin', but I'll put some peppermints
in my pocket, and mebbe they'd help catch him."