Tip Lewis and His Lamp - Part 18
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Part 18

"Can't you get it?" Mr. Burrows asked,

"No, sir."

"Howard, are you working with all your thoughts to-day?"

"No, sir." And a bright flush mounted to his forehead.

"What is it, Howard?"

"I don't know, sir; not much of anything, I guess."

"Are you not quite satisfied with yourself to-day?"

"Satisfied! I--why--I don't know what you mean, sir; I have tried to do the best I could, I believe."

"Do you really think so, Howard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you think so last evening, in the prayer-meeting? Can a boy, who is as well taught as you have been, feel that he is doing as well as he can, when he knows that he is every day cheating G.o.d?"

Howard's face fairly burned.

"I don't understand you, sir."

"Don't you?" and Mr. Burrows' voice was very kind. "I wish that G.o.d's own Spirit might help you to understand it. Didn't your father and mother promise G.o.d, when you were born, to try to train you up for Him, because you belonged to Him, and they knew it? Now, haven't they done their duty?

is it their fault that you are not a Christian?"

"No, sir."

"Then it comes back to you. You belong to G.o.d, body and soul: He made you; He has kept you; He would save you, only you will not let Him. You can't help the fact that you belong to Him; all you can do is to refuse to give Him your love, and let Him lead you to heaven, and this you are doing. Is it right?"

Howard was growing haughty.

"I don't feel the need of any such things, Mr. Burrows," he answered coldly.

"Suppose you don't, does that help the matter any? Does it change the fact that you belong to G.o.d; that you are cheating Him out of His own property? The question I ask is, Are you doing right?"

Howard stood, with eyes fixed on his slate, saying nothing.

"Won't you answer me, Howard?" Mr. Burrows asked gently; "is it right?"

And, after a long, long silence, the boy's honest, earnest eyes were raised to his teacher's face, and he spoke steadily:

"No, sir."

"Are you willing to go on doing wrong?"

"No, sir."

"Will you turn _now_, Howard, and start right?"

Now came another long silence. Howard Minturn, the honest, faithful boy, always getting a little nearer right than any of the others, had been condemned by his own words, and knew not what to say. At last he spoke:

"I can't promise, Mr. Burrows."

"Howard! such an answer from _you_, to whom I have only needed to point out what was right, in order to have it done!"

"But I can't trust myself, sir; I shall not feel to-morrow as I do now."

"That is, you feel like doing your duty today, but you expect, if you wait until to-morrow, that you will feel less like it; so you mean to wait. Is that right?"

The silence was much longer this time,--so long, that the boys began to look curiously at the two figures over by the desk, and wonder why the bell was not rung. But at last he raised those clear, truthful eyes once more:

"Mr. Burrows, I'll try."

And the next Thursday evening, when in the house of prayer it was very still, because Mr. Holbrook had just said, "Is there not _one_ here to-night who wants us to pray for him, and if there is, will he not let us know it _now_?" suddenly there was a row of astonished faces in the seat where the schoolboys were sitting, because from among them arose Howard Minturn, and his face was pale and grave, and his voice was steady; they all heard his words:

"I want to be a Christian: will you pray for me?"

Oh, wouldn't they! Was there ever such another prayer as that which Mr.

Minturn offered for his son? Did any one who heard it wonder that such prayer was answered, and that in the next meeting, Howard, speaking with a little ring of joy in his voice, said, "I love Jesus to-night. I want every one to love Him. I am very happy"?

From this the work went on. The little lecture-room grew full and overflowed, and the crowd now filled the church; and every night Some new voice was heard, asking for prayer.

Will Bailey seemed filled with the spirit of torment; teased the boys unmercifully; went to the meeting every evening, and made fun of it all day: but the boys were praying for him, and G.o.d's pitying eye was on him.

One evening there were two who arose to ask the prayers of Christians: one was Will Bailey, the most hopeless, so the boys thought, of all the boys in town; the other was Will Bailey's grey-haired father, the most hopeless, so the good men feared, of all the strong, self-satisfied men in town.

Yet there were two for whom daily earnest prayer was offered, who, in this blessed time, held themselves aloof,--two boys so far separated, that it seems strange and sad that their names should be coupled just here. Bob Turner and Ellis Holbrook, the lowest and the highest; the worst boy in school and the best! Yet they were united in this one thing, that they would have nothing to do with Christ. Tip had prayed for both, worked for both; but this was his success one afternoon.

"Say, Bob, won't you go to meeting to-night, just to please me?"

"Couldn't, Tip, no way in the world. I'd do most anything to please you, too, for the sake of old times when we used to steal apples together; but I've promised to go with Nick Hunt tonight, and tie old Barlow's cat fast to his frontdoor k.n.o.b, and that's got to be done while the old man is at meeting, you know. 'Tain't no matter, either, about my going; you just do the praying for you and me too; then it will be all right."

Tip turned away with a sigh and a shudder. Could it be possible that _that_ boy had ever been his only companion? Ellis was round by the ball-ground, and he went thither.

"Ellis, won't you go down to-night with the boys? it's almost the last meeting, you know."

Ellis wheeled around, and spoke in his coldest tone:

"Tip Lewis, you seem to take a wonderful interest in me, and I'm sure I'm much obliged to you; but I'll be a great deal more so if you'll attend to your own affairs after this, and let mine alone."

Poor Tip! how discouraged he felt! Yet that very evening, going home from school, he met Mr. Holbrook; the minister turned and walked up town with him.

"Edward," he said, "are you praying for my boy?"

"Yes, sir."