"Now, girls, I have news for you!”
The speaker was a handsome, fashionably dressed young woman. She was just entering a room where several of her cousins, young ladies like herself, were gathered.
"What is it, Ada?" they cried.
"You'll never believe it! Lina Ashcraft has professed religion," was the half serious, half laughing reply.
"Lina Ashcraft?" The girls repeated the name more or less in surprise.
"Lina Ashcraft!" The eldest cousin repeated the name seriously. "Why, she was forever making sport of the subject. And such a fashionable girl! She would hardly look at a person who was poorly dressed.”
"Her father an infidel, too. What will he say?”
"I heard that he turned her out of the house," said Ada.
There was a long silence. It was abruptly broken by the youngest of the girls. "Now we shall see if there is any reality in Christianity. Lina has a hard time ahead. I wouldn't be in her place.”
"Pshaw! There's no such thing as persecution in these days. It would be a rare thing to see a martyr." This was lightly spoken by Ada who had been Lina's dearest friend. Poor Ada felt that her friend's conversion had erected an insurmountable barrier between them, and she bitterly resented it.
But martyrs are not rare, even in these days; aye, there are real martyrs to religious persecution, as we shall see.
Lina Ashcraft was engaged to be married to George Phillips, a thorough man of the world. George loved his gay life—parties, cocktails, the races, the theater, the convivial and free and easy club. Sunday was his day for pleasure, and many times had Lina joined him, radiantly beautiful, on that day.
He had a pleasing manner, a keen mind, much wealth, and was welcomed and admired everywhere.
His brow darkened when he heard the "news." "What! The girl of his choice, the one who would be mistress of his home, now a canting Christian? Nonsense; he wouldn't believe it. It was a ridiculous hoax! What! The daughter of Henry Ashcraft, the freest of free thinkers—a Christian? Ha! It was a joke, nothing more.”
George called upon Lina immediately. Unsmilingly he scanned her lovely face; but how gently, how sweetly she met him! Her voice, always pleasant, was deeper, richer in its tones now. In her face was winning grace, and settled peace. A happy smile dimpled her cheek. But there was something, a subtle something, that filled him with apprehension, because it was unlike her old self. What could it be?
Lightly, scoffingly, he referred to the report he had heard. For one moment her face paled, her lips refused to speak. This passed, and something like a flash of sunshine crossed her beautiful face. It lightened her eyes anew, it touched her cheek with soft crimson as she replied, "George, please don't treat this as a jest, for truly, thank God, I have become a Christian. Oh, George!"— her clasped hands were laid upon his, "I have only just begun to live! If you knew—”
Impatiently he sprang to his feet, throwing her hands from him in his abrupt movement. He did not dare to trust his voice, for an oath was uppermost. He walked swiftly back and forth for a moment, and then he came and stood before her. Angrily he exclaimed, "Do you mean that you will really cast your lot among these people, that for them you will give up all—ALL?”
"I will give up ALL for Christ." The words were very soft and low, and not spoken without reflection. But they angered him still more. There' was fury in his voice as he pronounced his ultimatum: "Lina, if this is your intention, you and I are through. We must go different ways.”
This was cruel a terrible test. That young girl, as it were, had placed her very soul in his keeping. Before a higher, a purer love had been born in her heart, she had almost worshipped George; and the thought of giving him up even now seemed unbearable. Tears came to her eyes.
As he saw this, his manner changed to entreaty. He placed before her all their hopes and plans, the position he would give her. He lured her with every argument that could appeal to her womanly heart. But his ultimatum stood:—George Phillips or Christ.
The gentle spirit of the young Christian felt as if she must yield; but help direct from the Fountain of Life sustained her. The blessed indwelling Spirit of God brought to her mind a verse of scripture she had recently read: "Can two walk together, except they be agreed?" Amos 3:33Can two walk together, except they be agreed? (Amos 3:3). And who had said, "All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me"? It was the enemy of souls and of Christ. There could be no compromise:—it was Christ or—. And standing there with her new-found faith shining in her heart and lighting her pale features, she said with a firmness worthy of the martyrs of old: "CHRIST.”
Though his heart was filled with rage, never had she seemed so dear, so lovable to the young man. Her earnest, upward look, her attitude so self-possessed yet so modest, filled him with a strange, admiring awe. But his hostility towards "religion" was so strong in him that it bore down all tenderness, all love. He parted from her for the first time coldly and like a stranger.
The engagement was broken off. This was the first trial. Then came another while yet her heart was heavy.
Lina Ashcraft's father had never shown her much love. He was proud of her. She was an ornament to his beautiful home and an asset to himself. Her beauty and brilliance gratified his vanity. But for her to break with the wealthy, dashing young George Phillips was unthinkable. He called her into his study and required a minute account of the whole matter. He had heard rumors, he said, and had seen a surprising and far from agreeable change in her: she had grown "mopish,” quiet. What was the cause?
What a testing for the poor girl, so newly converted! Before that stern, unbelieving face she must stand and testify for Christ. But He who has promised, "I will never leave thee," was with her, and she told the story calmly, resolutely, kindly.
"And do you intend to follow this course?”
"Yes, Father!" A gleam of hope entered her heart. She did not expect his approval, but she could not think of his refusal to sanction this important step.
"You know your Aunt Eunice has long wanted you to share her home.”
"Yes, Father," the gentle voice faltered.
"Well, you can go there now. Unless you give up this absurd notion and become reconciled to George Phillips, I do not wish you to remain with me. Be as you were before, and I will give you all I have. Hold to your present course, and I shall be your father only in name.”
Again she was faced with the ultimatum: CHRIST OR—. And still, though her heart was breaking, she answered as before: "CHRIST.”
Lina Ashcraft did forsake all for Christ; but grief for her loved ones broke both heart and health. The gentle, tender girl was unfitted to cope with such overwhelming sorrow. Swiftly she went down into the valley of the shadow, but it was not dark to her. The presence of her Lord sustained and comforted her.
As she neared the end of the way, George Phillips heard that she was dying. His heart was again stirred by memories of her gentle dignity when, as opposed to him, she had chosen Christ. Could there be such power in HIM? George longed to know. Hesitantly he visited the dying girl and implored her forgiveness. Too late? No, not too late for his own salvation, for in that hour his eyes were opened to his own sinfulness and to the uselessness of his life. By her side he knelt and gave his lonely heart to God.
Her father, too, proud infidel though he was, looked on his child with wonder and awe.
Such a scene is the privilege of but few to witness. She had given up all for Christ, and in her last hour the Spirit of God seemed to fill her. Her sweet face glowing with heavenly light, she testified to her father of the power of Him who has triumphed over death, hell, and the grave, and is now seated at God's right hand in the glory. With a contrite heart and a reverent spirit he heard her whisper:.
"Rock of Ages! Cleft for me.
Let me hide myself in Thee.
There the water and the blood
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Are of sin the double cure,
Cleansing from its guilt and power.”
The room was still, the girlish form lay quiet as one word—her last—scarcely more than a breath was— heard. It was—"CHRIST.”