SEALED.
The first Sunday in September was the most beautiful day of the
season--calm, still, and sunshiny. The August heats were abated, but no
touch of chill had yet come into the air. It was still summer, but
summer's fierceness had passed by. When the bell of the little gray
stone church rang out in joyous tones, multitudes of people, in bright
Sunday attire, and with expectant faces, came out of the cottages and
boarding-houses and, singly or in groups, wound their way up the hill.
Factory operatives are not, as a rule, a very church-going population,
and the church was not wont to be overcrowded; but to-day the pews and
seats are all full, and so are the extra benches and chairs taken from
the Sunday-school room and placed in the aisles. Every one in Squantown
who possesses a sufficiently decent wardrobe in which to appear in a
place of worship has turned out to-day. For to-day many of the boys and
girls are to stand forth with many of their older friends, and confess
themselves upon the Lord's side, while their pastor prays that upon them
may fall a fuller measure of that Good Spirit, who alone can enable them
to stand firm amid the many temptations by which they are surrounded,
and while their brethren, who are older in the faith, promise to give
them all the sympathy and help which it is in their power to bestow.
The church has been decorated for the occasion with a wealth of late
summer flowers. Geraniums, scarlet, coral, pink, and white, dahlias of
every variegated hue, asters, zinnias, heliotrope, ferns, golden-rod,
and a multitude more are entwined around the pulpit or wreathed above
windows and doors. Pure white day-lilies load the air with perfume, and
rare exotics from the gardens of the "great house" stand in exquisitely
arranged baskets upon the communion-table.
The music, intended to do special honor to the occasion, is somewhat
elaborate, considering that the choir is composed of the older boys and
girls from the Sunday-school, and is therefore not so good as usual from
an artistic point of view; but it is better than artistic in that it is
intended to do honor to the occasion, and is in many instances the
sincere thank-offering of hearts glad to give to their Saviour the "dew
of their youth."
It was the endeavor, not only of the clergyman, but also of the whole
Mountjoy family, to banish all class distinctions from the church, and
to make rich and poor, as they sat together before God, "the maker of
them all," feel that they were all one family; that all had a common
ownership of, and interest in, the beautiful building and the
well-conducted services.
Thus the factory-girls went to the woods on Saturday afternoon for
golden-rod and ferns; the humblest families robbed their cottage gardens
of the few bright flowers they contained; and the boys gave willing
assistance to Etta and her class in arranging and putting up the
decorations. The whole congregation joined in singing the hymns and such
of the chants as were familiar, and rarely had the singing been
heartier.
The service was over and the sermon, and then, as the last hymn was
sung, the call was given for the candidates to come forward in answer to
the reading of their names. How many of them there were! Even those who
had prayed most earnestly and labored most actively were surprised at
the result. There were six of the elder girls composing Miss Eunice's
Bible-class (the others were already communicants); four of her
brother's boys; Etta and her whole class of seven,--making eighteen from
the Sunday-school. But there were also quite a number of young men who
worked in the factory, who had been largely won by James Mountjoy's
honor and integrity, added to manly Christianity; and some young women,
and even elder ones, with one or two heads of families, who had been led
by the indefatigable efforts of the pastor thus to openly acknowledge
Christ.
The girls were not as a rule dressed in any particular manner. Etta,
indeed, and one or two others, were in white, because it happened to be
more convenient and suitable, but neither Mr. Morven nor Miss Eunice
wished to have the consciousness of dress interfere with the solemn
thoughts of self-dedication and renunciation of the world appropriate to
the occasion. Even with Bertie Sanderson, who had come home a few days
before, "old things had so passed away," that she wore a simple blue
gingham, much plainer, and at the same time much more becoming, than the
costume in which she had originally appeared at the mill. The solemn
questions were asked and answered; the personal vows taken; earnest,
solemn prayers uttered and words of wise counsel said, to be long
remembered and heeded and acted upon in life's coming battles; and then,
with a burst of joyful song, the solemn service was over, and those
engaged in it went out from the sacred precincts to fulfil the vows and
exercise the grace among the common scenes and homely details of daily
life. To many, nay, to most, life would not be one continuous communion
service; the holy awe would of necessity fade away; the hymns and
prayers be exchanged for the harsh wrangle and barter of a work-day
world; temptation was awaiting many of those new church members in
unexpected places, and the evil nature within, not yet wholly subdued by
divine grace, would make the pathway of holiness a very narrow one,
along which untrained feet would often stumble. But the memory of this
hour would always be, to those who cherished it, a shield against
temptation, a counter-charm against the wiles of the evil one; and since
the Saviour whom they had that day openly avouched to be their Lord and
God had promised "never to leave or to forsake them," only victory could
follow those who confided entirely in him.
"Tessa," said Katie, when the two girls were alone together that
afternoon, "I didn't know you were going to join the church till this
morning. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Well, you see I didn't make up my mind till yesterday afternoon. Then I
went to Miss Etta, and she took me to Mr. Morven, and he took my name
and encouraged me to come."
"What made you think of it?"
"You first. I didn't see how you could be so gentle and patient when
everybody was condemning you and thinking evil of you. Then I watched
you at your work, and saw how faithful you were, whether any one saw you
or not, just as if you felt that God was looking at you, and you wanted
to please him."
"So I did. I took for my text, in the mill, the verse: 'In all thy ways
acknowledge him.'"
"Then," continued Tessa, "when you wanted me to give up reading those
novels I was real mad at first. I thought you had no right to find fault
with what I did, and that it was very mean in you, who had a comfortable
home and a mother and two brothers, to want to take away the only
pleasure from me who had nothing. But when you talked with me so
sweetly, and when you asked me to come and live with you, and your
mother took in the stranger that no one knew anything about and treated
me just like one of her own children, I knew that you did it just out of
kindness, and I tried to see what made you so kind."
"I don't think I'm kind," said Katie, "but I do want to be."
"The only reason I went to Sunday-school and church with you,"
continued her friend, "was to find out what it was that made you so
different from the other girls, and there I heard all about Jesus, so
different from what the priests used to say at home. There were no
crucifixes, no pictures in the church, as there were in Italy, and yet
he seemed to be more real than he ever did there, and I found myself
beginning to love him almost before I knew it."
"I'm so glad!"
"So am I; but I don't think I ever quite saw what he was, how he laid
down his life, for his enemies I mean, till you went to take care of
Bertie, at the risk of your own life, and stayed there when you knew how
badly she had treated you, and never said a word afterward for fear it
would hurt her. It showed me just how he cares for all of us and wants
to help us, even those who don't like him and don't want to take his
help, and I made up my mind to give myself to him and take him for my
Saviour that very night when you asked me to."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Somehow I couldn't. I couldn't talk about such things; they seemed too
sacred. And one reason I didn't give in my name with the others that day
at Miss Etta's was because I was afraid Miss Eunice or somebody, the
minister, perhaps, would ask me questions."
"Didn't you want to talk to the minister?"
"No; it seemed like going to confession, and that I promised my father
I'd never do. Besides, I didn't think I was good enough."
"Why, we're none of us good enough, Miss Eunice says."
"I know; I listened to all the readings and the talk and the lectures,
and by-and-by I got to see things that I hadn't understood before, and
how it is not because we are good and strong, but because we're sinful
and weak, that we need a Saviour and all the influences of the church.
And so, just at the very last moment, I prayed for bravery enough to
tell Miss Etta, and she went with me to Mr. Morven, and he told me I was
just the one to come, if I really loved the Lord Jesus ever so little
and wanted to do his will. He was just as kind and gentle, and it wasn't
a bit like confession, for he didn't ask me any string of questions and
didn't say the absolution--just talked to us both, prayed, and sent us
home. I'm so glad I decided. I never felt so happy in my life before."
"Nor I," said Katie. "It doesn't seem as if anything ever could be hard
or hateful again."
So felt a good many young hearts that quiet Sunday night as they
returned from the evening service, where the pastor preached a special
sermon to those of his flock who had just openly enlisted in the army of
the Cross, welcoming them once more into the "communion of saints,"
pointing out the responsibilities they had assumed and the difficulties
in their way, but at the same time congratulating them on the assured
strength and aid which were promised to make them "more than conquerors
through him who hath loved us."
And as life glided by, bringing its inevitable portion of care and
suffering to each, no one of that band was ever sorry, as he looked back
to the services of that bright September Sunday, that young hands and
young hearts had then been laid trustingly into the hands of their
Saviour, and that they set out upon life's journey clad in the
invincible armor of faith.