Part 20 (1/2)
”It is not a necessity,” he said. ”I may do as I will. And I will to do that which will serve Him best.”
He read the text, ”Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through His poverty might be rich.” Tears, to which his eyes were unused, made them glisten for a moment. ”Ah, if through my poverty some might be made forever rich!” he thought.
How to put in practice what he desired to do became a problem. He went to his office with the sense of a new relations.h.i.+p to its business. A new Proprietor sat at the desk with him, and, afraid to act rashly, on Him he wisely waited for the clear instructions which should show how best His interests might be served.
The new Proprietor looked on him and saw a man triumphing where the mult.i.tude of essaying disciples fail: not in lofty ideals, not in emotional experiences, not in grand works undertaken; but in the prosiest, hardest spot--albeit the touchstone of many a man's consecration--the _money question_.
CHAPTER XVI
THE MISSIONARY MEETING
It was early summer when the Women's Foreign Missionary Society of Doctor Schoolman's church was to have a public meeting. On Sunday the faithful calendar announced it, and Doctor Schoolman made special mention of it, urging attendance. A missionary home on furlough was to exercise a part of his ”well-earned rest” in addressing the meeting. It was to be held in the afternoon, but it was suggested that as many men of the congregation as possible unite with the ladies in giving welcome to one who had distinguished himself by faithful and valuable service on the foreign field.
The announcement was discussed in the Gray household and Hubert determined to join Winifred in attendance.
”Not that I believe much in it,” he said, ”when here all about us, and especially in our large cities, there are plenty of objects for our commiseration quite as wretched, undoubtedly, as those in foreign countries.”
”No doubt,” said Winifred. ”It always seemed to me to be looking rather far afield for something to do.”
However, the two determined to hear the voice from China.
Wednesday, the day for the meeting, came, and Hubert left work in time to join Winifred on her way. They found the lecture-room of the church rather better filled than was usual at a missionary meeting, but only a few gentlemen were present. Winifred had time to observe some of the faces about her before the meeting began. She knew the Secretary, a woman with a keen, earnest face, always active in good works, and indefatigable in her efforts to excite a generally indifferent church into some glow of interest in the missionary cause. There were a few other faces as interested as her own. Hubert saw the plain little body he had singled out at the church social as one who perhaps would find it a pleasure to talk about the Lord. Her eyes looked expectantly toward the quiet looking man who came in with Doctor Schoolman.
The President, rather new to her office, fingered her jeweled watch-chain nervously as she opened the meeting. The company sang ”From Greenland's Icy Mountains,” and Doctor Schoolman offered prayer. The Secretary read the minutes of the previous meeting--a ”Thank-offering meeting”--and it was discovered that the sum of $90 had been realized. The ladies exchanged glances of satisfaction at the amount.
”Hm-m! Their combined thanks foot up to that,” thought Hubert. He was a business man and must be forgiven such a practical view of the case.
”The Lord must be gratified!”
”I feel, ladies,” said the President, pus.h.i.+ng a diamond ring up and down upon her finger anxiously, ”very much pleased that our poor gifts have amounted to so much. We cannot all do what we would, but we may give our mites, and together they will count for something in the work. We cannot tell what these ninety dollars may mean to the heathen.”
”Their mites!” thought Hubert, with something of his old-time irony. He was freshly instructed on the subject of money, and knew well the story of the widows' mites. ”If Mrs. Greenman herself had given the ninety dollars, I should think she was beginning to feel a tinge of grat.i.tude for something.”
Winifred had fastened her brown eyes musingly upon the President. She was wondering if money might express thanks, and, if so, how much would appropriately suggest her own grat.i.tude to G.o.d for His ”unspeakable gift.”
”No gift would be large enough,” she thought, and then the familiar lines came to her mind:
”Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.”
”How true that is,” she thought. ”But I suppose it is nice to give some token, even though one cannot adequately express one's thanks.”
There were some other reports and then the leading alto from the choir sang:
”There is a green hill far away.”
”I am sure we are all glad,” said the President, ”to have with us Mr.
Hugh Carew from China, who has labored for years among the heathen there.
We shall be pleased to hear him tell us something of his work.”
And Mr. Hugh Carew began. He was a man uninteresting to look upon, save that his face wore a certain indefinable expression of a man who has been a stranger in many places; a man habituated to loneliness and to silence.
But he was evidently a man also accustomed to speak, for he addressed his audience with easy grace.
”The pleasure is mine,” he said, ”in being able to present to your interest and sympathy the dearest object of the heart of G.o.d.”