"For them shalt find it after many days."
"Come in;" and the Rev. Edward Lewis laid down his book, pushed back
his study chair, and was ready to receive whoever was knocking at his
study door.
"Mr. Lewis," said the little girl who came in in answer to his
invitation, "father has just come from the post office, and he brought
you some letters, and here they are."
Mr. Lewis thanked his little next-door neighbour, took his letters, and,
when the room was quiet again, settled back in his chair to enjoy them.
The first one was from a brother minister, begging an exchange. The next
brought a look of surprise and delight to his face, for he recognised
Ellis Holbrook's handwriting. And the delight spread and deepened as he
read; especially when he came to one sentence: "I asked father what
message he had for you, and he replied, Send him this verse, and tell him
that again it is peculiarly his, 'I love the Lord, because He has heard
my voice and my supplication.'" That, you see, would have told me the
whole story, without this long letter. "I thank God that He put it into
your heart to pray for me, as also that He has heard your prayers. God
bless you. By the way, father wants you to assist him on the first
Sabbath in July. I earnestly hope you can do so; he thinks you will be
coming east about that time."
Was there ever a more thankful heart than was that minister's as he laid
down his old schoolfellow's letter? How constantly, how sometimes almost
hopelessly, had he prayed for Ellis Holbrook! How many times had he been
obliged to reassure himself with the promise, "In due season we shall
reap, if we faint not." And now again had God's word been verified to
him. He took the letter up once more, to look lovingly at that closing,
never before written by Ellis,--"Your brother in Christ."
There was still another letter to read. That writing, too, was familiar;
he had received many reminders of it during the past years. He laughed as
he read, it sounded so like the writer:--
ALBANY, _June_--, 18--.
"DEAR TIP,--Do you have Fourth of July out your way this year? We do here
in Albany; rather, I'm going to have one in my yard. Perhaps you remember
a Fourth of July which you took me to once, when we were ragged little
wretches at home? I do, anyhow, and this is to be twin-brother to that
time. All the ugly, dingy little urchins that I know have been invited.
We're to have fine fireworks and fine singing and fine _eating_. My wife
added that last item,--thought it a great improvement. I'm not sure but
it is; most things are that she has a hand in. Now, to come to the point
of this letter,--you're to make the speech on that occasion. No getting
out of it now! I planned this thing one day in the old schoolhouse. Oh,
did you know Mr. Burrows had given up teaching? Grown too old. Queer,
isn't it? Don't seem as if anybody was growing old except me. At first I
wasn't going to have my feast on the Fourth, because, you remember, it
was on _that_ day that our blessed Ray left us; but, talking with Mr.
Minturn about it, he said Ray would have been delighted with it all,--and
so he would, you know. Don't think we are going to gather in all Albany;
it's only the younger scholars of the mission school, in which my wife
and I are interested.
"Tell Howard and Kitty to be sure and come; they can put their visit a
few weeks earlier as well as not.
"Oh, by the way, if you have heard from Ellis Holbrook lately, you are
singing 'Glory Hallelujah' by this time!
"I am writing this in the counting-room, and am in a great hurry, though
you wouldn't think it. Shall expect you by the third, _certainly_.--
"Yours, etc.,
"BOB TURNER."
These letters came on Saturday evening. The next morning, in Sabbath
school, when the superintendent's bell rang, the minister left his class
of mission scholars, and went up the aisle towards the altar, pausing
first to speak with a bright-eyed little lady, who sat before her class
of bright-eyed little girls.
"Kitty, where is Howard?"
"At home, coaxing a fit of sick headache."
"Well, here are letters that will interest you both,--came last evening;
one contains an invitation. Tell Howard I think we must try to go. Mother
bade me tell you she wanted to see you at the parsonage in the morning;
she is not out to-day."
Then he went on. The scholars began to sit up straight, and fold their
arms; they knew they must listen if they wanted Mr. Lewis to talk to
them. When every eye was fixed on him, he began,--
"Children, I have a very short story to tell you to-day about myself.
Years ago, when I was a little boy, my Sabbath school teacher told us a
story, one morning, which was the means of bringing me to Jesus. I have
to thank that lady, next to God, that I am standing here to-day a
minister of Christ. She was not our regular teacher, but was a stranger;
I never saw her after that Sabbath. Perhaps you can imagine how I have
longed, since I became a man and a minister, to find that lady, and tell
her what one hour of faithful teaching did for me. I thought it would
help her, encourage her. I thought she would be likely to tell it to
other teachers, and it would help them. But though I had it always in
mind, and made very earnest efforts to find her, I never succeeded until
last week. You know, children, it is ten years since I came here to be
your pastor, and last week I learned that during all this time I have
been living within twenty miles of the lady whom I have so long been
seeking. And what else do you think I heard of her? Why, that two weeks
ago she died. Scholars, my first thought was a sad one, that I never
could thank her now. But you know I can; I expect to one of these days.
Why, when I get to heaven, one of the first things I shall do will be to
seek her out and tell her about it. So, you see, she will know it, even
if some of the watching angels up there have not told her already.
"Just here, I want to say one word to the teachers. This incident should
come with wonderful encouragement to your hearts, reminding you that you
may often speak words which spring up and bear fruit that reaches up to
God, though you do not know it, and _will_ not, until in heaven you take
your crowns, and question why there are so many stars.
"Children, next Sabbath I will tell you the story which led me to Christ;
and all this week I am going to pray that it may have the same effect on
some of my scholars.
"It is time now for your verse. If any of you can find out why what I
have been telling you to-day made me think of this verse, you may tell me
next Sabbath. Now repeat,--'Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou
shalt find it after many days.'"