to fall upon my knees, pouring out my heart in gratitude to that God
who had been so mindful, leading me by the hand up through the narrow
defile of poverty and want, into a broader way, where I could catch
glimpses of the promised land, renewing my vows, and consecrating
myself anew to his service.
XV.
“Now you are ready for a profession,” said Miss Grimshaw, as once more
we were seated in her little parlor.
“Marston is troubled about being a lawyer,” Jennie said, as she leaned
over my shoulder, running her taper fingers through my hair. “He used
to think he could be happy in nothing else.”
“Yes,” said grandma, “what fine speeches he used to make before the
looking-glass, and how often he said he would never undertake a case
that was not just, and then he would be sure to win.”
True, grandma’s words carried me far back into my boyhood. I could
see now that I had been ambitious. Poor and friendless, I had read of
others who had attained worldly preferment and riches, and I resolved
to do the same. To be a successful lawyer seemed to me to be the height
of intellectual attainment. This I would be, and for this did I first
study. I was ambitious for myself, and I was equally ambitious for
Jennie.
Once my great desire was to rise in the world; but now my aim was
higher. As a lawyer, I did not intend that my knowledge and influence
should become a screen for guilt. I would never be an oppressor of
the poor and miserable. I had not the remotest wish to make vice
appear virtue, nor to clothe transgressors in the garb of honorable
men; neither did I expect to bury my conscience. I looked for a noble
manhood.
Now it seemed to me my life could not be spent aright if I did not make
the service of God my chief and direct aim, and that no other service
would suit me so well as, in utter self-renunciation, to give myself
entirely to the work of saving poor ruined sinners, spending my time,
talents, health, all, in telling in the nooks and corners of the land,
wherever I could find a listener, of the depth and fulness of His love
for man. Compared with this, the fields of worldly ambition seemed a
vast waste, without flowers or fruit.
“I am glad that you feel like this, Marston;” and grandma tottered
across the room and laid her withered hand upon my head. “I have prayed
earnestly for this. Young, earnest, persevering, you have the power of
doing much good. I am thankful, Oh how thankful, that you see it in
this light.”
The tears streamed over the cheeks of this aged saint. Jennie was
weeping too, and I could not speak. I felt my own unworthiness and
insufficiency, and only prayed that God would give me that ready tact
and skill to say and do those things that would be pleasing in his
sight, and enable me to win souls for his kingdom.
Still, I had only passed through my collegiate course; there were years
of preparation before I could become fitted for the high and noble
office of a preacher of his word. In the darkest lot there is some
sunshine. With health, strength, some culture of mind, and the presence
of my Saviour, the passing clouds only made the sunshine brighter.
Before the vacation closed I met Mr. Wyman. With his old frankness, he
invited us all to spend the day with him, and more than this, sent his
carriage to take us there. Considering that I had done nothing wrong, I
was delighted with again meeting him, as well as Mrs. Wyman and Alice,
in their old home.
My greeting was cordial, while his had all the tenderness of a father.
“I am glad to see, Marston, that you can forgive me for sending you
away as I did. I knew that I was wrong, that I ought not to do it, that
I was breaking a positive command; but I had always seen it done. My
father I believed to be a good man; and though he did not work on the
Sabbath, still, if his harvest or his hay-field was in danger of being
ruined by a shower, he gathered it in, let the day be what it might.
Then I was angry that you should reprimand me before all the hands.”
“I only repeated the commandment. I did not intend it as a reproof of
mine. It was God’s command, and must be obeyed.”
“I knew it; but I was vexed. You have forgiven me, Marston, and I hope
God has forgiven me. I have not had any Sabbath work done on the place
since then, that could possibly be avoided; and I trust that I live
nearer my Saviour and am a more consistent Christian than I was before.”
Neither of us said any more on that subject; and before we left,
we bowed with clasped hands to seek our Father’s blessing upon the
reconciliation and on our future life.
“Henceforth you shall truly stand to me in the light of Willie,” said
Mr. Wyman; “and still, had Willie lived, he would have been a minister
in the room of a lawyer.”
“By the grace of God, I am to be a minister, Mr. Wyman.”
“Are you, Marston? God be thanked for this. How many times during
the last four years have I washed it. But we thought you were fully
determined to become a lawyer.”
“So I was; but God has made me feel that it is the highest honor for
mortals to serve him, and the highest service to spend and be spent in
telling poor sinful men of the Saviour. If I can get through with my
theological studies, I trust this will be my work.”
“You can and you shall, Marston. Willie was to have been a minister.
You shall be to me as my Willie would have been.”
When we reëntered the farm-house there was great rejoicing, Mrs. Wyman
taking me by the hand and telling me how thankful she felt that I had
changed my purpose.
“A broad field of usefulness lies before you, Marston; you must, you
will fill it nobly.”
I entered upon my theological course at once. Mr. Wyman was faithful
to his promise, making of me a second Willie. And now, as the pastor
of a prosperous church, I love to look back over the track of my early
years, and read His goodness in ordering all my steps. Surely his
goodness is unsearchable, and his love past finding out.
Led by His grace, I love to recount all his goodness in the way he
has led me. I never pass a lad in the street, dirty, ragged, and
homeless, but I think of my own early lot; never look upon the pale
face and blue eyes of a little girl, that I do not think of Jennie,
kept by his goodness and shielded by his love. And I would say to all
the climbers--to all those boys and girls who are striving to help
themselves, to work, and study--first make the Saviour your friend,
give him your hearts, then go on courageously in the path he will be
sure to open before you. Never stop to parley with wrong, or to shun a
duty, however small and insignificant. A lofty purpose, pursued with
undeviating integrity, never fails of a rich and gracious reward.
Would you know of my class-mates? Robert Lovell is a foreign
missionary, known and loved of God and man. Frank Clavers and Harry
Gilmore are lawyers of acknowledged ability and rare moral worth.
Wright, my former rival, is not only a brother clergyman and friend,
but as the husband of my darling Jennie, he claims still more of my
regard.
Surely the prayers of our sainted mother, and the supplications of
our early friend, were heard by Him who ruleth all. Our path has been
hedged about by his kindness, and his banner over us has been love.
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FOOTNOTE:
[A] The “sweet do-nothing” life.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or alternate spelling has been retained from the original,
including contractions without apostrophes.
The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber and is
entered into the public domain.