_A Promotion_.
Henry James was coming rapidly into his employer's favour. Thoughtful,
obliging, attentive to details, anxious to please, and, above all,
thoroughly reliable in word and deed, he was a first-class servant and an
exemplary Salvationist. In the Corps to which he belonged he stood high in
the esteem both of the Local Officers and the Soldiers, and there was no
more welcome speaker in the Open-air or more successful "fisher" in the
sinners' meetings than "Young James."
The question of his own future was beginning to occupy a good deal of
attention. Ought he to offer himself for Officership in The Army? He was
very far from decided either one way or the other, when one evening at the
close of business his master sent for him. He expressed his pleasure at
the progress James was making, and offered him a greatly improved
position--the managership of a branch establishment, with certain
privileges as to hours, an immediate and considerable advance in salary,
and the prospect of a still more profitable position in the future. There
was really only one condition required of him--he must live in premises
adjoining the new venture, and he must not come to and fro in the uniform
of The Army. His employers had a high esteem for The Salvation Army. It
was a noble work, and their opinion of it had risen since they had
employed one or two of its Soldiers. But business was business, and the
uniform going in and out would not help business, and so forbh.
The young man hesitated, and, to the senior partner's surprise, asked for
a week to consider.
During the week there were consultations with almost every one he knew.
The majority of his own friends said decidedly "Accept." A few
Salvationists of the weaker sort said, "Yes, take it; you will, in the
end, be able to do more for God, and give The Army more time, more money,
more influence." On the other hand, the Captain and the older Local
Officers answered, "No; it is a compromise of principle; the uniform is
only the symbol of out-and-out testimony for Christ; you put it on in holy
covenant with Him; you cannot take it off, especially for your own
advantage, without breaking that covenant. Don't!"
James promised himself--quite sincerely, no doubt--that it should not be
so with him. And on the appointed day informed the firm that he accepted
their proposal.
The new enterprise was a success. Everything turned out better than was
expected. At the end of six months the new manager received a cordial
letter of thanks from the firm, and a hint of further developments.
But Henry James was an unhappy man. He had gained so much that he was
always asking himself how it came about that he seemed to have lost so
much more! Position, prospects, opportunity, money--these were all
enhanced. And yet he went everywhere with a sense of loss, burdened with a
consciousness of having parted with more than he had received in return.
As a man of business, the impression at last took the form of a business
estimate in his mind. Yes, that was it; he had secured a high--a very
high--price that evening in the counting-house, when the partners waited
for his answer; he had parted with something; he had, in fact, sold
something.
_It was the Christ_.
It proved a ruinous transaction.