Chapter XXIV: Where We Leave "those Boys."

"Men are only boys grown tall."

LEWIE AMESBURY was packing up. His college days were over. Herbert had already gone, expecting to return to enter the theological school. But as Lewie's leave-taking was supposed to be final, his preparations for departure took more time. Two or three fellow students were in the room helping, saying "good-bye," talking over their late triumphs, or lounging listlessly about.

From the dark corner of the closet, Lewie had just brought out a medley of garments, dusty, worn, and old-fashioned. Fairly aching for a frolic, Fred Torrey seized upon the veritable hat that once hung upon the rack in Mr. Bradford's hall, speckless and glossy.

"Hurrah!" he exclaimed, as he fished out the shabby old thing. "Here's an old acquaintance! Say, Amesbury, how did you feel when you first put that hat on?"

"Try it on and see for yourself," was the curt reply.

"Oh, it would fit Baker here better," and Torrey attempted to put the battered old hat upon Baker's head; but that young gentleman suggested "spiders," and tossed it from him, whereupon a very undignified scuffle ensued, and the "old acquaintance," banged and bruised, was kicked back and forth until Fred Torrey conceived the brilliant idea of turning it inside out. Suddenly, he exclaimed—

"Well, now, this is rich! Say, Amesbury, when did you turn tract distributor? Must have lent your hat to Bradford sometimes. Pretty piece of literature for you to carry about!"

"What is it?" asked two or three voices.

"Just be quiet, will you? I can't deliver my sermon in such a din."

Then he proceeded to read out the solemn appeal. The little messenger which Julia Bradford had so long ago sent to speak words of warning, which she found in her heart but could not bring to her lips, had at last come forth from its hiding place.

Lewie had not been engaged in the frolic, and he now turned from the box of books which he was packing, saying—

"Come, Torrey, we've had enough of that. What have you got, and where did you get it?"

"Oh, yes! What and where! It is some of your own treasures. I supposed you'd be willing to share your good things. Never mind, I can get a supply from the Tract Society, I suppose."

To which piece of nonsense Lewie made no reply, but reached out his hand for the yellow and worn paper, which Torrey relinquished, saying—

"Come on, Baker, if we make those calls, and get off by the five o'clock train, we've got to hurry."

Lewie was left alone with the dingy tract in his hand. As soon as his visitors were out of hearing, he walked over to the door, turned the key, and leaving his books half packed, sat down to read the message that he could not turn away from. The language was simple and commonplace, but the truths were awfully solemn. He had heard them all before—heard them from the pulpit, read them in the Bible, partly assenting and partly denying, but never led by them into a real experience of the power of Christ's love. But now and here was God's time and way to answer the prayers of teacher and friends; and when Lewie Amesbury, the self-satisfied moralist, read,—

"Remember that there is no salvation in any other, no other name given under heaven whereby we must be saved; only by casting yourself upon him, renouncing self-righteousness and self-dependency, can you hope for salvation—"

How mean and miserable his past life looked to him! And he had presumed to set aside Christ's atonement as quite unnecessary in his case, building his hopes for eternity upon his own good works! "No salvation in any other." He had not entirely denied Christ, but he had not made him a Saviour. In his own thoughts, he had endeavoured to follow Christ's precepts. Now there seemed a great lack in his life. What should fill it? This was the question that absorbed his thoughts for many days; but the answer came as it comes to those who really seek.

Three months afterward, Fred Torrey was hurrying down Broadway when a voice arrested him.

"See here, Tor, if it isn't a life, or a million that is at stake, suppose you stop and speak to an old crony?"

"Ah, Baker, glad to see you. I have no special need of haste, though I have several things to do this afternoon. I'm off to-morrow."

"For Europe? Does Amesbury go with you?" asked Baker.

"Amesbury? Haven't you heard? He has gone back with Bradford to study for the ministry."

"Amesbury study for the ministry!" repeated Baker. "You are quizzing."

"Not at all. It is the solemn truth, queer as it seems."

"Well, a sudden turn around I should say."

"I have a note from him," said Torrey: "Let me see—no, I haven't it about me. He says that the purposes of his life have changed, that he just begins to see the real meaning of Christ's life and death, and more in that strain. He is evidently in earnest. If I had time, I'd look into the matter. There must be something in a religion that wins over a fellow like Amesbury."

"I know reckless sort of sinners like you and me are apt to go from one extreme to another, but steady, cautious fellows of his stamp are hard to turn. I wonder what did it?"

"I'm sure I don't know—though I can't help thinking that that dirty, dingy tract that I resurrected had something to do with it."

"I shouldn't wonder," said Baker thoughtfully; then the conversation drifted to other topics.

The years passed away, four more of them. Mrs. Judge McNair, just seated in her mother's room, was saying,—

"No, I won't take off my hat. I mustn't stop long. Father said you were not well last evening, so I thought I must run up a few moments, if I did not get everything done."

"Oh, you expect your boys!"

"Why, mother," laughed the younger lady, "do you forget that they are grown-up, really men doing their work among men?"

"Well, I suppose so. But how large a party do you intend to have?"

"Only about twenty—Mr. and Mrs. Earle, Dr. Myers and Lou, Mr. Golden and Louise, and a few more."

"When are Herbert and Jenny to go?"

"In about a week," replied Mabel. "Mr. Turner is very urgent. It is wonderful what a work that man has done. They have a little church quite finished, and a part of the salary pledged; and six or seven years ago there was no such thing known as the Sabbath. One or two who had been church members at the East, but who had been living away from Christ, awakened by his example, and took hold of the work with him. It is remarkable how God raises up his workers."

"But don't you feel that it is a great pity that Jenny and Herbert should bury themselves way off there?"

"I don't think it is a pity at all," returned Mrs. McNair, with earnestness. "It seems a grand field for labour. I am glad they are called to it. It seems that Nicholas has had his thoughts turned toward Herbert as their future minister almost ever since he went out there; but Herbert was quite decided about remaining at the East, until lately the indications of Providence have seemed so pointed that he could not refuse to go. The Lord seems to guide him by baffling his own plans, and shutting him up to one path."

"Ah! Mabel, you are just as queer as ever!"

"Queer, is she? Well, I wish we were all as queer!" The last speaker was Mr. Wynn, who had just entered. "I'd be glad to find the satisfaction in religion that you do, Mabel."

"Ah! Father, I am sure that if you looked there for satisfaction as earnestly as you do to the world, you would find it."

"Perhaps so. Well, I am going to retire from business next year; then I shall have time to pay more attention to religious matters."

Mabel did not reply, only smiled sadly, as she thought how persistently her father separated the things that ought to go together.

Presently Mrs. Wynn exclaimed,—

"Why, Mabel, what a company of ministers you'll have! Tom Nichols and Herbert and young Amesbury, besides Mr. Earle."

"Well, child," said Mr. Wynn, "you did pretty well to train up two preachers from that class."

"Two! Why, father, they are nearly all preachers. All but one, and I expect that he will be. There's Arthur Knapp away in Colorado, and if his life is at all what his letters indicate (and he is no hypocrite), he is preaching Christ most effectively. I insist that every Christian man and woman ought by their daily living to hold up Christ as the one perfect pattern and the only Saviour. Then there's Henry Trafton, his pictures are lessons of truth and purity. The one the judge bought last winter is as good as a sermon to me whenever I look at it, which is pretty often. And Duncan is growing more like his father every year."

"It is a fact, those boys have turned out well. I thought one while that Perry Morse would go to ruin sure, but his father tells me he is doing well. As for that matter, I believe they were rather a hard set. How did you manage them, Mabel?"

"In the first place, they were not a 'hard set' at all. They were just like any other half dozen boys, and I never managed at all. I had faith in them and faith in God's promises. I tried to teach them what it was to follow Christ, and to show them how much easier and better to follow closely than afar off."

"But," continued Mrs. McNair, rising, "I really must not stop. Mother, do you think you will be able to come over this evening?"

"Oh, yes," Mr. Wynn answered for her. "We will look in at your 'ministers' meeting.'"

Upon her way home, Mabel took a letter from the office. Here it is:

"MY DEAR FRIEND:—I have very pleasant things to write. In those dark days just before I left Westville, I never expected to see such good times as these. God has dealt very mercifully with me. In my time of disgrace and despair, he raised up kind friends for me, and in those years since, he has followed me with loving-kindness, and yet I have not been mindful of him. If I have led a different life since I came here, it was not from love to Christ. If I have outwardly kept pretty near the white line, it was because it seemed the better way in a worldly point of view. But for several months I have been dissatisfied with my life and its motives. I seemed to need something higher.

"At last the long, weary struggle over, I yield to Christ a loving service, and accept the joy and peace which fills my need. Yesterday I joined with his own people in the holy communion. I mean to be earnest and true. I trust that I shall still be one for whom you pray.

"You will doubtless be interested in hearing of some of the new business arrangements. Your good brother-in-law has taken me into partnership. He reckons my youth and business capacity as an offset to his money capital. He proposes to retire from active life (so far as the store is concerned) and leave the business in my care. You will see how he trusts me. Once I should have been very vain of such a trust, now I look to Christ for grace to sustain it. I should like to be in Westville while Herbert and Lewie are there, but I think I cannot leave at present. May God go with them and bless them in their work.

"As ever, your old pupil,

"PERRY MORSE."

"At last! Oh, I knew God would not fail me. He never has!"

With this thought, Mrs. McNair slipped her letter back into its envelope, smoothed her hair and went down to dinner.

And so they were all following at last. As they were far from perfection as boys, so they are far from being perfect men. It takes years of Christian living and learning before we reach that higher plane where grace so abounds that sin has no foothold. But for fine specimens of noble Christian manhood, you need not go outside the little circle of "Those Boys," who have found that their chosen motto, while it is narrow as regards being of the world, is yet broad in all Christian aims.

THE END.

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1. FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA.
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16. AN ENDLESS CHAIN.
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