THE March wind, cold and strong, howled around a large country mansion, tearing from the trees the early spring shoots and scattering them on the broad avenues. But it gained no entrance into the house, where all was warmth, and light, and comfort, with the heavy curtains drawn closely, and the great fires burning brightly. There was a happy stir, too, about the long corridors, and in the beautiful reception rooms, smiling faces, merry laughter, and pleasant chat. Most certainly the bleak March wind had no admittance; it was rather summer sunshine and gladness, for the peace of God reigned there, and the blessing of God rested there.
A young couple, high-born, as the world has it (one of them indeed of a royal family), but both still higher born in the records of heaven, being of the royal family of God, were about to be married; and many were the joyful preparations for the important ceremony of the next day, and many the noble guests that had assembled to do honor to the bridal pair and to wish them joy.
But not among the titled guests in the brilliant reception rooms, does the scene of our story lie. You must come with me, my reader, to a humbler part of the house. In the pleasant and spacious pantry are groups of menservants, the valets of the guests, chatting with the footmen of the household, as together they busy themselves in preparations for the large dinner party of that evening. Of course, the coming wedding is a prominent topic of conversation, and remarks on the bride and bridegroom are freely passed. Their appearance, their position in the world, their prospects, and finally their religion, are fully discussed. On most of these subjects the men are pretty well of one mind, but the last point leads to a lively controversy.
While some speak highly of the unworldly, unselfish ways of the young pair, others laugh at their folly in giving up this world’s advantages, and sneer at the Christianity, which professedly prompts them to such self-sacrifice.
“For my part,” exclaims one, “I don’t believe in what they call Christianity. I have known infidels behave far more nobly, uprightly, and generously than so-called Christians; and I have known lots of folk who say they are Christians, and yet are selfish, dishonest and mean.”
“It may be so, Henry,” answers a tall young man, who stands cleaning a handsome piece of plate, “but the Christians, who behave badly, do so because they have too little of Christ about them, and the infidels who behave well do so in spite of their infidelity. Your argument proves nothing.”
“Oh, oh! I suppose you are a Christian, William, as you take up the cause so warmly!” returns Henry sneeringly. “I have not had the pleasure of your acquaintance till now, so you must excuse my asking the question.”
“Yes, through God’s grace, I am a Christian,” answers William, gravely.
“Then I tell you again, young man, I don’t think much of you Christians, and I maintain that a person who is high-principled and moral can behave just as well as one that has got, what you would call the grace of God. I go farther; I say I am fair sick of Christians, with their cant about holiness, and at the same time their low, bad ways, giving the lie to all they profess.”
William answered indignantly, and the controversy of morality as against Christ waxes hot, all present joining in on one side or the other, most of them laughing loudly at the warmth of the two champions.
I said “all” join in, but no, look at that young man with the grave, gentle face who has taken no part in the argument, and yet his stirred expression tells how deeply he is feeling it. Thomas is a Christian, and has from his early boyhood made no secret that he belongs to the Lord Jesus, and that Christ is precious to him. But sadly realizing the truth of the scoffer’s taunts, and feeling deeply how grievously the people of God misrepresent their Lord in ways and words, Thomas has made no effort to answer him. He turns away from the excited speakers, and bending his head low over the pierce of plate he holds in his hand, closes his eyes, and in earnest, silent prayer lifts his heart to God on behalf of the poor young fellow thus stumbled by the inconsistent ways of Christians. He pleads with the Saviour to reveal Himself to him in all His matchless beauty, that he may see Him as He is, “the altogether lovely One,” and not only in the blurred image too often presented by His followers.
Henry marked the attitude of Thomas; he watched his lips as they moved, and though he heard no words, he felt sure that he was praying for him, and this conviction strangely upset him, in a way that William’s arguments had failed to do. He faltered in his harangue, hesitated, then abruptly changed the subject, and sought in the occupation of the moment to shake off the uncomfortable impression made by that silent prayer.
As the evening wore on, many a glance did Henry steal at the peaceful face of the one who had troubled him by his appeal to God on his account, but not a word passed between them, and the incident left little impression on the mind of Thomas.
Not so, however, was it with Henry. When at length he could retire into the stillness of his own room, the scene in the pantry returned vividly to his mind. Again he heard the loud, applauding laughter of those whom he was leading on to scoff at Christianity; again he saw the grave, sad face, the closed eyes and the moving lips of him who had prayed for him. And then before his eyes came up another face, the sweet face of her who had for years prayed for him, that mother―his pious, widowed mother, who, for oh! so long, had pleaded the Saviour’s claims with him, and whose heart he had made to ache sorely by his worldliness, indifference, and folly. In vain Henry tried now to silence that loving voice, and to turn from those tender eyes, that looked entreatingly into his.
He threw himself on his bed, and sought forgetfulness in sleep; but no sleep came to him. The Holy Spirit strove mightily with him, and, for the first time in his life, Henry found himself in the presence of a holy God, a convicted sinner, and trembled as the filthy rags of his self-righteousness, morality, and self-complacency fell from him.
He could bear it no longer. Flinging himself from his bed, on his knees, with bitter tears and humblest confession, Henry sought his mother’s God, through his mother’s Saviour; and He, who has promised in no wise to cast out the sinner who comes to Him, received him as he was, whispering to his troubled soul, “Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.”
Morning dawned bright and clear—brighter and clearer it seemed to Henry in his newfound happiness than any other morning that had ever dawned. As soon as he could, he hurried off to the villa, where he knew that Thomas lived. A ring at the door brought the latter from his work, and he felt no little surprise on opening it, to find himself face to face with the scoffer of the previous evening.
Henry, almost speechless with emotion, held out his hand and grasped that of Thomas with intense energy, then, in a broken voice and eyes brimming over with joyful tears, begged that he might come in and speak with him.
Thomas, seeing how overcome the young man was, quickly led the way to his own quiet, pantry, and closed the door upon them. With deepest interest he listened, while Henry related the marvelous story of all he had suffered in the past night, and of the joy and peace he had now found in the Saviour.
Most sweet it was to Thomas to hear how the Lord had used him, all unwittingly, to waken this poor prodigal to arise and go to the Father.
They knelt, and praised, and prayed together, each in turn blessing the Saviour for the riches of His mercy and grace. Very unwillingly, they brought their joyous interview to an end, and returned to the business of the day.
That evening’s post carried a long letter to the praying mother a letter in which her loved and only son gave a most clear testimony to the saving power of Jesus, who had sought and found him. Her heart sang for joy as she read it, and her soul overflowed in praise for answered prayer in her boy’s conversion.
Many happy hours of sweetest Christian fellowship have Henry and Thomas enjoyed together since then, each encouraging the other in more whole-hearted devotion to the One who has redeemed them to Himself al such a cost. Their one theme together is ever “the Master,” whom both desire to serve with all their power while they wait for His return from heaven. D. & A. C.