WHERE WE LEAVE "THOSE BOYS."
"Men are only boys grown tall."
LEWIE AMESBURY was packing up. His college days were over. Herbert had
already gone, expecting to return to enter the theological school. But
as Lewie's leave-taking was supposed to be final, his preparations for
departure took more time. Two or three fellow students were in the
room helping, saying "good-bye," talking over their late triumphs, or
lounging listlessly about.
From the dark corner of the closet, Lewie had just brought out a medley
of garments, dusty, worn, and old-fashioned. Fairly aching for a
frolic, Fred Torrey seized upon the veritable hat that once hung upon
the rack in Mr. Bradford's hall, speckless and glossy.
"Hurrah!" he exclaimed, as he fished out the shabby old thing. "Here's
an old acquaintance! Say, Amesbury, how did you feel when you first put
that hat on?"
"Try it on and see for yourself," was the curt reply.
"Oh, it would fit Baker here better," and Torrey attempted to put the
battered old hat upon Baker's head; but that young gentleman suggested
"spiders," and tossed it from him, whereupon a very undignified scuffle
ensued, and the "old acquaintance," banged and bruised, was kicked back
and forth until Fred Torrey conceived the brilliant idea of turning it
inside out. Suddenly, he exclaimed—
"Well, now, this is rich! Say, Amesbury, when did you turn tract
distributor? Must have lent your hat to Bradford sometimes. Pretty
piece of literature for you to carry about!"
"What is it?" asked two or three voices.
"Just be quiet, will you? I can't deliver my sermon in such a din."
Then he proceeded to read out the solemn appeal. The little messenger
which Julia Bradford had so long ago sent to speak words of warning,
which she found in her heart but could not bring to her lips, had at
last come forth from its hiding place.
Lewie had not been engaged in the frolic, and he now turned from the
box of books which he was packing, saying—
"Come, Torrey, we've had enough of that. What have you got, and where
did you get it?"
"Oh, yes! What and where! It is some of your own treasures. I supposed
you'd be willing to share your good things. Never mind, I can get a
supply from the Tract Society, I suppose."
To which piece of nonsense Lewie made no reply, but reached out his
hand for the yellow and worn paper, which Torrey relinquished, saying—
"Come on, Baker, if we make those calls, and get off by the five
o'clock train, we've got to hurry."
Lewie was left alone with the dingy tract in his hand. As soon as
his visitors were out of hearing, he walked over to the door, turned
the key, and leaving his books half packed, sat down to read the
message that he could not turn away from. The language was simple
and commonplace, but the truths were awfully solemn. He had heard
them all before—heard them from the pulpit, read them in the Bible,
partly assenting and partly denying, but never led by them into a real
experience of the power of Christ's love. But now and here was God's
time and way to answer the prayers of teacher and friends; and when
Lewie Amesbury, the self-satisfied moralist, read,—
"Remember that there is no salvation in any other, no other name
given under heaven whereby we must be saved; only by casting yourself
upon him, renouncing self-righteousness and self-dependency, can you
hope for salvation—"
How mean and miserable his past life looked to him! And he had presumed
to set aside Christ's atonement as quite unnecessary in his case,
building his hopes for eternity upon his own good works! "No salvation
in any other." He had not entirely denied Christ, but he had not made
him a Saviour. In his own thoughts, he had endeavoured to follow
Christ's precepts. Now there seemed a great lack in his life. What
should fill it? This was the question that absorbed his thoughts for
many days; but the answer came as it comes to those who really seek.
Three months afterward, Fred Torrey was hurrying down Broadway when a
voice arrested him.
"See here, Tor, if it isn't a life, or a million that is at stake,
suppose you stop and speak to an old crony?"
"Ah, Baker, glad to see you. I have no special need of haste, though I
have several things to do this afternoon. I'm off to-morrow."
"For Europe? Does Amesbury go with you?" asked Baker.
"Amesbury? Haven't you heard? He has gone back with Bradford to study
for the ministry."
"Amesbury study for the ministry!" repeated Baker. "You are quizzing."
"Not at all. It is the solemn truth, queer as it seems."
"Well, a sudden turn around I should say."
"I have a note from him," said Torrey: "Let me see—no, I haven't it
about me. He says that the purposes of his life have changed, that he
just begins to see the real meaning of Christ's life and death, and
more in that strain. He is evidently in earnest. If I had time, I'd
look into the matter. There must be something in a religion that wins
over a fellow like Amesbury."
"I know reckless sort of sinners like you and me are apt to go from one
extreme to another, but steady, cautious fellows of his stamp are hard
to turn. I wonder what did it?"
"I'm sure I don't know—though I can't help thinking that that dirty,
dingy tract that I resurrected had something to do with it."
"I shouldn't wonder," said Baker thoughtfully; then the conversation
drifted to other topics.
The years passed away, four more of them. Mrs. Judge McNair, just
seated in her mother's room, was saying,—
"No, I won't take off my hat. I mustn't stop long. Father said you were
not well last evening, so I thought I must run up a few moments, if I
did not get everything done."
"Oh, you expect your boys!"
"Why, mother," laughed the younger lady, "do you forget that they are
grown-up, really men doing their work among men?"
"Well, I suppose so. But how large a party do you intend to have?"
"Only about twenty—Mr. and Mrs. Earle, Dr. Myers and Lou, Mr. Golden
and Louise, and a few more."
"When are Herbert and Jenny to go?"
"In about a week," replied Mabel. "Mr. Turner is very urgent. It is
wonderful what a work that man has done. They have a little church
quite finished, and a part of the salary pledged; and six or seven
years ago there was no such thing known as the Sabbath. One or two who
had been church members at the East, but who had been living away from
Christ, awakened by his example, and took hold of the work with him. It
is remarkable how God raises up his workers."
"But don't you feel that it is a great pity that Jenny and Herbert
should bury themselves way off there?"
"I don't think it is a pity at all," returned Mrs. McNair, with
earnestness. "It seems a grand field for labour. I am glad they are
called to it. It seems that Nicholas has had his thoughts turned toward
Herbert as their future minister almost ever since he went out there;
but Herbert was quite decided about remaining at the East, until lately
the indications of Providence have seemed so pointed that he could not
refuse to go. The Lord seems to guide him by baffling his own plans,
and shutting him up to one path."
"Ah! Mabel, you are just as queer as ever!"
"Queer, is she? Well, I wish we were all as queer!" The last speaker
was Mr. Wynn, who had just entered. "I'd be glad to find the
satisfaction in religion that you do, Mabel."
"Ah! Father, I am sure that if you looked there for satisfaction as
earnestly as you do to the world, you would find it."
"Perhaps so. Well, I am going to retire from business next year; then I
shall have time to pay more attention to religious matters."
Mabel did not reply, only smiled sadly, as she thought how persistently
her father separated the things that ought to go together.
Presently Mrs. Wynn exclaimed,—
"Why, Mabel, what a company of ministers you'll have! Tom Nichols and
Herbert and young Amesbury, besides Mr. Earle."
"Well, child," said Mr. Wynn, "you did pretty well to train up two
preachers from that class."
"Two! Why, father, they are nearly all preachers. All but one, and I
expect that he will be. There's Arthur Knapp away in Colorado, and if
his life is at all what his letters indicate (and he is no hypocrite),
he is preaching Christ most effectively. I insist that every Christian
man and woman ought by their daily living to hold up Christ as the one
perfect pattern and the only Saviour. Then there's Henry Trafton, his
pictures are lessons of truth and purity. The one the judge bought last
winter is as good as a sermon to me whenever I look at it, which is
pretty often. And Duncan is growing more like his father every year."
"It is a fact, those boys have turned out well. I thought one while
that Perry Morse would go to ruin sure, but his father tells me he is
doing well. As for that matter, I believe they were rather a hard set.
How did you manage them, Mabel?"
"In the first place, they were not a 'hard set' at all. They were just
like any other half dozen boys, and I never managed at all. I had faith
in them and faith in God's promises. I tried to teach them what it was
to follow Christ, and to show them how much easier and better to follow
closely than afar off."
"But," continued Mrs. McNair, rising, "I really must not stop. Mother,
do you think you will be able to come over this evening?"
"Oh, yes," Mr. Wynn answered for her. "We will look in at your
'ministers' meeting.'"
Upon her way home, Mabel took a letter from the office. Here it is:
"MY DEAR FRIEND:—I have very pleasant things to write. In those dark
days just before I left Westville, I never expected to see such good
times as these. God has dealt very mercifully with me. In my time of
disgrace and despair, he raised up kind friends for me, and in those
years since, he has followed me with loving-kindness, and yet I have
not been mindful of him. If I have led a different life since I came
here, it was not from love to Christ. If I have outwardly kept pretty
near the white line, it was because it seemed the better way in a
worldly point of view. But for several months I have been dissatisfied
with my life and its motives. I seemed to need something higher.
"At last the long, weary struggle over, I yield to Christ a loving
service, and accept the joy and peace which fills my need. Yesterday I
joined with his own people in the holy communion. I mean to be earnest
and true. I trust that I shall still be one for whom you pray.
"You will doubtless be interested in hearing of some of the new
business arrangements. Your good brother-in-law has taken me into
partnership. He reckons my youth and business capacity as an offset to
his money capital. He proposes to retire from active life (so far as
the store is concerned) and leave the business in my care. You will see
how he trusts me. Once I should have been very vain of such a trust,
now I look to Christ for grace to sustain it. I should like to be in
Westville while Herbert and Lewie are there, but I think I cannot leave
at present. May God go with them and bless them in their work.
"As ever, your old pupil,
"PERRY MORSE."
"At last! Oh, I knew God would not fail me. He never has!"
With this thought, Mrs. McNair slipped her letter back into its
envelope, smoothed her hair and went down to dinner.
And so they were all following at last. As they were far from
perfection as boys, so they are far from being perfect men. It takes
years of Christian living and learning before we reach that higher
plane where grace so abounds that sin has no foothold. But for fine
specimens of noble Christian manhood, you need not go outside the
little circle of "Those Boys," who have found that their chosen motto,
while it is narrow as regards being of the world, is yet broad in all
Christian aims.
THE END.
PRINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE AND CO., LIMITED, CITY ROAD, LONDON.
THE PANSY BOOKS.
THERE are substantial reasons for the great popularity of the "PANSY
BOOKS," and foremost among these is their truth to nature and to life.
The genuineness of the types of character which they portray is indeed
remarkable; their heroes bring us face to face with every phase of
home life, and present graphic and inspiring pictures of the actual
struggles through which victorious souls must go.
Messrs. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, to meet a demand that has arisen
for first-rate Sunday School Books, have issued the above Series, now
having an enormous sale in America. They are published in crown 8vo,
384 pages in each, bound in cloth.
_PRICES OF ROUTLEDGE'S EDITIONS OF_
THE PANSY BOOKS.
1. In crown 8vo, cloth, price 1s. each.
2. In crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges, price 1s. 6d. each.
3. In crown 8vo, cloth gilt, with Frontispieces, price 2s. each.
4. In crown 8vo, cloth gilt, gilt edges, with Frontispieces,
price 2s. 6d. each.
_For List of the Series, see next page._
THE PANSY BOOKS.
_ROUTLEDGE'S EDITIONS._
1. FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA.
2. LITTLE FISHERS AND THEIR NETS.
3. THREE PEOPLE.
4. ECHOING AND RE-ECHOING.
5. CHRISTIE'S CHRISTMAS.
6. DIVERS WOMEN.
7. SPUN FROM FACT.
8. THE CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME.
9. THE POCKET MEASURE.
10. JULIA RIED.
11. WISE AND OTHERWISE.
12. THE KING'S DAUGHTER.
13. LINKS IN REBECCA'S LIFE.
14. INTERRUPTED.
15. THE MASTER HAND.
16. AN ENDLESS CHAIN.
17. ESTER RIED.
18. ESTER RIED YET SPEAKING.
19. THE MAN OF THE HOUSE.
20. RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES.
21. HOUSEHOLD PUZZLES.
22. MABEL WYNN.
23. MODERN PROPHETS.
24. THE RANDOLPHS.
25. MRS. SOLOMON SMITH LOOKING ON.
26. FROM DIFFERENT STANDPOINTS.
27. A NEW GRAFT ON THE FAMILY TREE.
28. PROFILES.
29. SIDNEY MARTIN'S CHRISTMAS.
30. TIP LEWIS AND HIS LAMP.
31. EIGHTY-SEVEN.