A BISHOP'S VISIT
"Everything comes to an issue to him who knows how to wait," said Tom
Chance, folding up the local newspaper with an air of deep
satisfaction.
He was sitting in the verandah at the farm, and Betty busied herself
with a pile of mending that lay on the table before her. Tom often
found his way up to the farm on a Saturday evening when his work was
finished, for devoted as he and his sister were to each other, in
Betty he found a more understanding sympathiser with his work. She
looked up now with a quick smile.
"What have you been waiting for?"
"Waiting to catch the Bishop, and I believe the time has come when I
may hope to hook him. Anyway, I will write to-night."
"Then he's likely to be in the neighbourhood?"
"He's advertised in that paper as due at Rumney in a fortnight's time
to open their new little church."
"Not really!" cried Betty, laying down her work. "How perfectly
delightful! Do you know that church has taken twenty years in the
building? at least the first money for it was collected twenty years
ago, but it was not nearly enough to cover the cost, so it was laid
aside to wait for better days, and it seemed as if the better days
were never coming. Now one energetic farmer has taken it up, and
pushed it through by hook or crook, but I did not know it was so near
completion. I must get over to the opening."
"It is to be a very gala day by the newspaper account, and I think
you might take me with you, and we'll get hold of the Bishop and
bring him back with us. Can you manage it, do you think?"
"What makes you want him so much?"
"I'll tell you if you care to hear."
Betty nodded, and there, in the glory of the setting sun which was
flooding the western sky with every hue of the rainbow, she sat and
listened to Jessie's story, her eyes filling with tears.
"But how lovely," she said, when he finished. "So you've planned
that the Bishop shall come here on purpose to confirm her?"
"If he will and can; I've never had a keener candidate. Since that
first talk with her I've been giving her a regular course of
preparation for confirmation, not holding out any hope that it might
be here and now, in case no opportunity presented itself, but just to
have her ready in case one might be given me."
"Shall you tell her about it?"
"Not till I get the Bishop's answer. The disappointment would be too
bitter if it came a second time."
But the Bishop's answer was kind and favourable. He had just four
hours to spare, and provided he could be fetched and taken back to
the nearest railway station when the service was over, he would be
delighted to come.
The children happened to call immediately after Tom had brought
Jessie the wonderful news, and found her simply radiant with joy.
"The Bishop's coming on purpose to confirm me. Isn't it good of him
and of Mr. Chance to have settled it? I'm so happy, I don't know how
to lie still. I'd like to be up and jumping for joy."
But Jack stood looking at her with wondering eyes.
"I don't understand," he said. "What makes you so happy?"
"That I'm going to be confirmed," said Jessie simply. "I've wished
it ever so much, and thought I might wait for years."
"What's being confirmed?"
Jessie flushed a little. "Being strengthened by God's Holy Spirit.
It's only the Bishop who can confirm you, you know."
Jack asked no more; here was something quite beyond his
understanding. Perhaps Uncle Tom could make it clearer if he could
talk to him about it when they were quite alone.
He approached the subject cautiously on the following morning as he
trotted down to church by Tom's side.
"Is a Bishop a sort of head doctor?" he asked.
Tom gave an inward chuckle, but kept outwardly grave.
"That's not exactly how I should describe him; he is the head of the
clergy in any diocese where he may be placed, a diocese means a
certain division of the church which is given into his keeping, and
the clergy have to look up to him as their head. What made you think
he was a head doctor?"
"I didn't understand, but Jessie said he would lay his hands upon her
and make her strong."
They had reached the church door, and Tom unlocked it and passed in
before he answered. Then, in the simplest language he could command,
he drew Jack to his side and gave him his first lesson on the
sacraments, the outward signs which--God appointed--convey the inward
grace. He talked to him of baptism, pointing to the tiny font, as he
spoke, where the water poured on the baby's face, accompanied with
the clergyman's prayer, was the sign of the Holy Spirit descending
upon the little child; how, after confirmation, that child would be
dedicated to God to be His faithful soldier and servant until his
life's end.
"And when you are a big boy, Jack, you will, I hope, do what Jessie
is so anxious to do now, you will stand before the Bishop----"
"Will Jessie stand. Will she be strong enough?" broke in Jack.
"No, God will know she can't stand, but she will lie with folded
hands and make her promise to go on serving God all her life and to
fight against the devil and all his works, and then the Bishop will
lay his hands upon her head and pray that the Holy Spirit may come
upon her and make her strong enough by His gifts to keep this
promise. It is that strength, we believe the laying on of hands
conveys."
"Then it won't make Jessie walk?" said Jack dejectedly.
"Dear boy, it will make her walk straight on the road towards God,
and that is the first thing, the most important thing in all the
world, to get nearer to God. But if ever she is able to walk again
it will be God that gives her the power. And now it is time you
began to ring the bell."
But Jack had some more questions to ask.
"Shall I see Jessie confirmed, see the Bishop lay his hands on her
head?"
"Why, surely, if you wish it, and join your prayer with his. 'Pray
God give Jessie Thy Holy Spirit.'"
"And when will I be big enough?"
"To be confirmed, do you mean? It's not so much a question of years,
or size, as of understanding, Jack; understanding what you are doing.
Jessie quite understands."
"You said when I was big. I want to be big most of all to go to
father. He will fetch me when I'm big enough."
"Well, perhaps it might be before father fetches you, in this very
church. Who knows? But no one can settle that now."
Jack did not speak of his talk with Uncle Tom even to Aunt Betty, but
it sank deep in his heart, taking its place side by side with the
great event that he looked forward to in future years, when "he was
big," when father would come to fetch him; and before that, Uncle Tom
had suggested that he might be confirmed as Jessie was going to be
confirmed. He could not have put the notion into words yet, but the
seed which was planted in his heart that Sunday sprouted lustily.
Meanwhile, the day of the opening of Rumney Church and of Jessie's
confirmation drew near. Happily the day proved fine, one of those
wonderfully brilliant Tasmanian days that almost beggars description.
Tom presented himself in good time at the farm, and failing to find
anyone in the house, passed round to the stables at the back, where
he found Betty putting Tim, the handsome mettlesome pony, into the
shafts of the cart.
"But let me," said Tom, springing to her assistance.
"Thank you, no," said Betty with a laugh. "Tim resents strangers and
gets possessed of an evil spirit if anyone handles him but a known
and trusted friend. I always have to harness him when I go anywhere.
Gently, Tim, gently," as Tim's head went up with a snort as Tom drew
near. "I hope you don't mind trusting yourself to me. There's no
room for father if we bring the Bishop back. It's a lovely drive,
but very rough for the last two miles through a bush road. To go
round makes five miles difference."
"If I minded unmade roads or untrained horses I should hardly be
fitted for my work as a Bush parson," said Tom with a gay laugh.
"Very well, get in then, and we'll be off."
The descent through the paddock was made chiefly on the pony's back
legs, but once on the open road he settled to his paces and
conversation was possible. The going was rapid, for uphill or
down--and in that part of the world it is always one or the
other--seemed to make no difference to Tim.
"'My steed on his journey was gay, As I on my journey to Heaven'"
quoted Tom, "a little break-neck, perhaps, for the bush road you
promise me for the last part of the way."
"Which shows how little you know of Tim; you will see how soberly and
sure-footedly he will pick his way. I believe you are nervous,
notwithstanding your boast when you started!"
"Well, I will promise not to have hysterics or clutch at the reins,"
said Tom, jumping down to open the gate which barred the bush road
from the highway. And here it meant careful going, for bullock drays
had been lately along carting away some freshly hewn timber, and in
many places the cart sank into the ruts almost up to the axles. Tom
got out and walked to lighten the weight on the pony's back. It was
really pretty to see the dainty way the creature put down its feet,
avoiding bigger stones and curvetting past the huge logs that
often-times blocked the road, making a diversion into the
fern-clothed sides necessary.
"But it's hardly a safe way for even as good a driver as Betty," he
thought, and almost before the thought framed itself, Tim was rearing
and backing, and then, with a swift swerve, would have smashed
himself, Betty, and the cart, against the enormous bole of a tree,
but for Tom's hasty dash to his head. For a moment the issue seemed
doubtful, but Tom's strong hand and soothing voice brought him into
subjection, and he stood trembling from head to foot.
"And what was all the fuss about?" said Tom, patting Tim's head with
as much confidence as if they were friends of long standing. "Let's
have a look, old man, and see if we can't get over the difficulty,"
and round the curve which Tim had just come, Tom saw the half length
of a tree which had been lately felled from which a long piece of
bark had been stripped and the dazzling flicker of sunshine across it
had startled Tim and terrified him.
But realizing now what it was, the difficulty was at an end, and Tim
passed by without further resistance.
"It's smoother now; you can get in if you like," said Betty, a little
crossly, and Tom mounted to her side.
"It's a nasty fall to my pride," she said after a moment. "We should
have been smashed up into matchwood but for you, and hitherto I'm the
only one in the family with whom Tim has never misbehaved himself."
"But it puts me on equal terms with you again, and soothes my wounded
vanity. You can't forget that on the first occasion we met you
caught me out at cricket," Tom answered, good-humouredly.
"But I am doubly in the wrong, for I told you Tim would not let you
touch him, and he was as a lamb in your hands," went on Betty, still
put out.
"But that is something I was born with: that is no credit to me. I
love all animals, and I think they know it."
They were through the bush now and trotting gaily along the road to
Rumney, passing groups of people from the various farms, all bent in
the same direction.
"Everyone comes," said Betty, "on an occasion of this kind. Roman
Catholics and every denomination that calls itself Christian."
"That seems to me rather beautiful. Ah! there is the Bishop waiting
by the foot of the hill with quite a cluster of people about him."
"I'll let you down with your bag and drive on to the inn, and put up
Tim," said Betty, and Tom tactfully made no offer to do it for her.
Very soon she was wending her way, with many others, to the new
little church built on the side of a hill just beyond the township in
a clearing in the bush. There was no fence round it, no
properly-made path to lead up to it, but there was a nameless charm
in the primitive simplicity of it all, and Betty went in and thanked
God that at last the church, so long in hand, was completed.
There was a pretty little altar with a wooden cross and vases of
fresh flowers on either side of it, a prayer desk, which at present
had to serve as lectern desk, and pulpit, and a very simple font, but
benches had had to be borrowed from the school-house hard by. It was
hoped that the offerings of the day might help to provide some new
ones. But Betty's attention was arrested by the sound of singing,
and glancing through the open door of the porch, she saw a little
procession of clergy winding its way up the hill towards the church,
the Bishop bringing up the rear.
"The Church's one foundation
Is Jesus Christ her Lord----"
so the words rang--at first only sung by the clergy, but as they
neared the door the congregation rose as one man to their feet, and
the well-known hymn was taken up lustily until the little building
was filled with the volume of sound.
To Betty, all unused to church functions, it seemed the most
beautiful service she had ever attended, the touching words of
consecration, the collects that followed when the Bishop, kneeling in
the middle of the step that led up into the tiny sanctuary, prayed
God to let His blessing rest upon this house and upon the people that
should worship therein, and last of all the Bishop's address, quite
short and simple, so that everyone present could fully understand,
and yet so forcible in its simplicity, so impressive on the
importance of this dedication day, which he begged them to observe as
a _holiday_ from that time forward, a day of joyous thanksgiving that
God had allowed them, as to Solomon, to build Him a house. And then
the Bishop raised his hands in supplication.
"Prosper Thou the work of their hands upon them, O Lord; O prosper
Thou their handiwork."
The Blessing and a recessional hymn closed the short and simple
service, and then, whilst the congregation trooped off to the
paddocks where sports were to finish the day's holiday, the Bishop,
after a hasty lunch provided at the farmer's house near by, announced
himself ready to accompany Betty and Tom Chance.
An hour later the cart drew up at the door of the cottage opposite
the church, and the Bishop stood for a moment bareheaded on the
threshold.
"Peace be to this house," he said in his kindly tones, then stooped
to pat the head of the little boy in a white suit who stood with his
cap in his hand earnestly looking up into his face.
"Jessie's little brother?" he suggested.
"No, my little nephew," smiled Betty, "but he was very anxious to see
Jessie confirmed."
"And it's always well to have a congregation," answered the Bishop,
and then he passed into the room where Jessie lay, a pretty picture
in her soft tulle cap and white muslin jacket which Betty had
provided for her confirmation day. A flush was on her cheeks, and
her eyes glowed like stars as the Bishop bent over her and took her
hand, speaking a few kind encouraging words. And then his eye
glanced round the crowded room, for Jessie's parents had driven over
for the day, and a neighbour or two had expressed the wish to be
present.
"It seems rather close and crowded, doesn't it?" said the Bishop,
turning to Tom who stood by the open doorway, "and there is plenty of
room over there," with a nod at the little church opposite. "I think
we could carry her, bed and all, over there, don't you? Will you see
to it, whilst I adjourn to the vestry and put on my robes?"
"But of course I could nearly carry her alone," said Tom, so between
him and her father, Jessie was gently moved over the road through the
porch, and into the church beyond, whilst Jack to make the thing
complete, climbed on to his usual hassock and rang the bell until the
Bishop, preceded by Uncle Tom, issued from the vestry, and then he
slipped quietly into a seat where he could watch the whole service
from beginning to end. It was just as Uncle Tom had pictured it;
Jessie lay there with folded hands and a radiant face making her
promise with a clear confident voice, and then the Bishop drew near
and laid his hands upon her head, and Jack watched with awe-struck
eyes, and wondered if the wind that came rushing down from the hills
at that moment and went whistling by the church was the outward sign
of the Holy Spirit descending upon Jessie and making her strong. She
was not strong at present for she was crying!
And then the Bishop still stood by her looking down on her with a
tender smile, and talked of how once our Lord had called a child to
Him, and how he was sure His call had come to her to-day, a call to
which she was very ready to listen, and he believed she would follow
Him to her life's end.
"Yes, I'll try," said Jessie, smiling through her tears.
There was quite a long pause at the end of the service, when the tiny
congregation remained kneeling, praying for the child who had so
earnestly renewed her baptismal promises.
"Don't carry me back home yet. I want to see the Bishop, and to
thank him for coming," whispered Jessie, and the Bishop, bag in hand,
came down the church and took her hand in his.
"Mr. Bishop, if I live to be quite an old woman, I won't forget your
coming here to-day," she said.
"It's been a happy day for us both, Jessie," was the kind answer.
"God have you in His keeping now and evermore," and with that final
blessing the Bishop hurried off to his train. After putting him into
the cart, Tom and her father returned to carry Jessie back.
"Yes, I'm ready to go now," she said. "I'm very tired, but it has
been the happiest day of my life, the grandest, happiest day!"
"And when I'm big I'll be confirmed like Jessie," thought Jack, as he
sped home, "but I hope I'll stand on my feet, not lie on a bed as she
did."
"It was the loveliest confirmation I have ever been at," said Tom to
his sister that night. "I wish you had come to it, Clarissa."
"I was too shy," his sister answered.