Chapter XI: The Boys' Meeting

"His grace descends; and, as of old,
He walks with men apart,
Keeping the promise, as foretold,
With all the pure in heart."

THE experiment of a church parlour had proved a success. Both old and young found it a pleasant place for all sorts of church gatherings. The occasional teachers' meeting having been fully attended, and the discussions more free when held in the cosy, home-like little room, Mr. Clarke was encouraged to make regular appointments, and the teachers now met weekly for study and conference; and it could no longer be said that the talking was all done by two or three.

Here, too, teachers could meet their classes; and it was for this that Mabel Wynn came down to the church one evening about the time of Herbert Bradford's trouble at the store. She sat at the cabinet organ which had been added to the furnishings of the room, and around her were clustered the seven boys. It was not often that one was absent from this meeting—their own meeting. Mabel had long been the church organist, and of late, it was her custom to come down half an hour before the time of the Saturday evening rehearsal to meet any or all of her class.

It was an informal gathering. The boys dropped in, sometimes singly, sometimes by twos and threes, sometimes one came and went before the others appeared. It was not exactly a prayer-meeting, though there were prayers; nor exactly a conference-meeting, though many conferences were held. It was just the "boys' meeting." They talked of their trials (for boys do have trials), their perplexities, their wants, their failures and their triumphs, and they received—always sympathy, often help and counsel.

Doubtless good Mrs. Culver would have sighed over the worldliness of some of their talk, for Mabel was trying to teach these young friends of hers to put Christ into everything, to let his teachings, his words and his example get such a hold upon their young hearts, that in all their work and in all their play, the spirit of the gospel should be the controlling power.

Tonight they were all there, and as their leader played the accompaniment, they sang the hymn—

"Stand up! Stand up for Jesus!"

Then, while every head was bowed, Mabel uttered low and reverent words—

"Jesus, dear friend, we have come here to talk with Thee and with each other. Some of us have reached the hard places, and we need help and counsel. Some of us have been sorely tried, and we need help to go forward. Let our hearts be strengthened, our faltering steps steadied and upheld, and our weak faith increased. Let us realize that Thou art with us, leading our thoughts and inspiring our words. We do need Thy help, dear Christ. Answer us by Thy spirit and through Thy word. Give unto each of us as we are in need. Amen."

"Since we were here last week—" she said, taking Deacon Griffin's arm chair, while the boys took their favourite or characteristic positions—Perry Morse walked over to the further side of the room and established himself in the handsome easy chair which was a part of Mr. Riggs's gift; Willy Loring nestled upon a cushion at Mabel's feet; Herbert Bradford stood leaning against the organ, as he had done while they sang, but now he shaded his face with his hand and turned a little away from facing the boy across the room in the easy chair; the other boys formed a group around a small table—

"Since we met last week," Mabel was saying, "one of us has met a sharp trial, a temptation has been bravely met and conquered, a pleasant hope, perhaps a darling ambition, has been quietly set aside for the sake of right. You all know of the matter to which I refer; but, as I understand that there are several versions of the affair afloat, to set the matter right with you all, I will just say that Herbert lost his place simply because he refused to comply with one of the requirements which conflicted with the teachings of the gospel. There was no quarrel, no misunderstanding, just a disagreement as to the right and wrong of an established method of doing business. We must honour our friend for standing up firmly for the truth, and thank God that he gave him strength to live up to his convictions."

Turning to Herbert, "I have wanted to tell you that you have had my sympathy and my prayers. I know something of the cost of your course, of your disappointment and mortification. It has been a sore trial; but, Herbert, remember that Christ knows all about it, and he will not forget."

"Thank you," said Herbert. "It was your making things so plain that led me to take the stand I did. As you have just said, I refused to do what was required of me because I thought it was not right, not according to what Christ taught. Was that standing up for Jesus? We have sung that hymn a great many times, and I never thought much about it until tonight; now it seems as if I knew a little about what it means.

"But," he continued, after a moment's hesitation, "I don't want any of you to be deceived. I don't think I did meet the temptation very bravely. I am almost afraid I should not have had courage to do as I did, if I had thought it would turn out so. I prayed about it, and told God all my trouble; and while I promised to obey him, I asked to be shielded from the consequences, and I expected that Mr. Wynn would yield the point. I was quite astonished when I found that I was discharged. I thought God had forsaken me. I don't think so now. I believe he has only taken his own way to answer me, and that some time, I shall find out what it all means."

"It is a lesson we all have to learn," said Mabel, "this—that God does not always give us just what we ask for, because he sees a better way. Sometimes we wait long enough for the light that shows us what it all means. We are dull at learning these lessons of discipline, unless the Spirit enlightens us. But it may be that some of the whys are not meant for us to know until our trial is over. What is it, Willy?"

"I don't understand," replied the boy, whose questioning face Mabel had observed. "What did Herbert mean about standing up for Jesus? I thought that meant to speak in prayer-meeting, join the church, or maybe take his side when anybody spoke against him; but I don't see as there was anything said about Jesus or religion."

"Suppose, Willy, that your teacher, Miss Payne, gives out certain rules and counsels to guide her pupils during study and play hours, and suppose that Lewie here says to himself, 'No matter about the rules; they don't apply over on this side the fence, anyway. I shan't mind anything about them.' But you think, 'I am sure she meant us to do so and so, and I am going to carry it out;' and you both act according to your ideas and resolutions; neither of you say a word about Miss Payne, but are you not standing up for her honour and authority when you make her rule your guide?"

"I see," exclaimed Willy. "It is the principle, the truth."

"'I am the way, the truth,'" quoted Lewie.

"But, Miss Wynn—" began Willy, and stopping suddenly, his cheeks reddened.

"Well, what is it?"

"Will you please excuse me if I say something?"

"Why, that is just what we want you to do, dear boy," said Mabel kindly.

"I know; but what I want to say don't sound quite respectful—that is, I am afraid it won't."

"I understand," interrupted Mabel, smiling, "and I will excuse it. Go on."

"Well, you know the commandment says, 'Honour thy father.' Now is it just right for you to take sides against your father?"

Mabel's cheek flushed, and her voice trembled slightly, as she answered—

"I am glad you put your question, Willy. The Book says, too, 'Children, obey your parents in the Lord;' and also, 'He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.' We must, if we are Christians, put Christ first, and regulate our lives according to the tenor of the gospel, though we may sometimes be obliged in doing so to oppose the will of those in authority. The word of God is our highest authority. But in this matter, my father knows that I take Herbert's view of the right, and he does not try to bind my conscience."

"It seems to me," said Perry Morse—and his position in his great sleepy-looking chair seemed to indicate that he would be glad if somebody would take the trouble of making conscientious decisions for him—"it seems to me that older and more experienced persons should know better than us boys what is right and what is wrong, and that we ought not to set our judgment up against theirs."

But Mabel remembered that Perry had a will of his own when he chose to exercise it, and a quiet smile accompanied her reply.

"Perry, that argument would have more force if it came from a boy who was always willing to listen to the opinions of older people, and ready to heed their counsels."

The boys laughed, and Perry looked a little embarrassed, but she continued, "Suppose we take up one or two of Christ's sayings, and see how it would do to put your conscience in another's keeping. This, for instance, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, and thy neighbour as thyself.' Who will help you to obey that command? Upon whom can you shift the responsibility, if you fail to fulfil the obligation?

"Or this, 'Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you.' How will another's judgment or experience serve you here? Who knows so well as yourself what you would desire under the same circumstances? Of course there are times when we need the counsel and advice of our friends. But, after all, the decision rests with our own consciences. The Word and the Spirit are given to enlighten and guide; and we should keep our consciences tender and pure, that they may not fail us in the hour of doubt and temptation. Led by the Spirit, we are sure to go right, but human counsel may lead us astray."

"How shall we know for certain?" asked Willy.

"By the gospel test," answered Miss Wynn. "Bring all doubtful questions to the Book, and settle them by its measure. This is only another way of bringing out our motto.

"My dear boys," continued the teacher, after a few moments, "I am always very glad when I see you trying to order your lives according to the spirit of our chosen motto. But I am often disturbed by the fear that some of you may make a merit of your following. I want to make you understand that a mere outward observance of the precepts given us is not sufficient. Christ asks for a complete surrender of self, a laying aside of selfish motives, a belief and trust in Him as a present Saviour. To really and truly follow Christ, we must first accept the pardon he offers us. Scorning that, refusing to be first reconciled to Him, how can we render acceptable service?"

As they separated after singing again, Lewie Amesbury walked away with an incredulous look upon his face, and his thoughts ran on something in this wise: "I'm sure I don't quite know what Miss Wynn is driving at. She tells us to follow Christ, and then says it is of no account after all. As for accepting pardon, I can't see what a fellow wants to be pardoned for, if he keeps on about right. Seems to me that it's kind of an unfair thing to haul him up, when he is doing his very best, and tell him it all goes for nothing. Folks that belong to the church always talk just so. If some people that I know would try living up to the Bible, maybe they would find out whether it amounts to anything or not. I'd like to have the experiment tried in our house. Seems to me that a little following would make a pleasanter home of it."

And the incredulous look changed to one of sadness. Lewie's home was not a happy one. She who had made its brightness had several years ago been called from earth, and the woman who filled her place seemed to care very little for the comfort of the lonely boy. While professing to follow Christ, she followed the world, and unlike the mild and gentle teacher, she was harsh and uncharitable in her opinions, cold and haughty in her manner. Selfish and worldly, the religion of Christ manifested in her life did not recommend itself to her stepson.

"Oh, yes," she would say, "Mr. Earle is a very good man, no doubt, but quite too strict for the place he occupies. There are so many people of wealth and culture in our church who will not be pinned down to such narrow notions. A man who could adapt himself to the wants of the people would be more successful." As for Mabel Wynn, she was "absurd and fanatical. It must be a great trial to Mrs. Wynn to see her go on in the way she does. There's Mr. Amesbury's son Lewie. She is trying to make a saint of him, and has succeeded so well that his long face drives me half wild. Really I don't believe in making such a fuss about one's religion. I never make a parade of what little I possess."

Mrs. Amesbury has spoken for herself: We will not judge her further; but we need not be surprised that with a few exceptions, Lewie did not believe in "church member's religion." Having adopted the watchword of the class, he was in a sense trying to follow. Studying carefully the life and character of Christ, he fancied that he could model his own after that perfect pattern.