Then good Mrs. Culver had opposed the plan, and determined to stand aloof. What was the use in making a stir! They had gone on for years without such an affair, and for her part, she didn't believe in new-fangled notions.
However, in spite of strong opposition, a few brave hearts persevered and carried the matter forward, and Westville had its first "Sunday-School Institute." These few feeling the want of more labourers, sensible of their own want of knowledge as to the best mode of carrying forward the work, invited one whose life is devoted to the cause to give a course of instruction upon topics connected with the work, hoping to be themselves better fitted for their duties, and trusting that others might be led to enter the same field of labour.
Many, like Deacon Griffin, looked upon Sunday-schools as especially for children; some, like Mrs. Culver, clung to the old ways. As a child she had recited her seven verses Sabbath after Sabbath, without question or comment on the part of her teacher; brought her penny for the mission fund, and carried home a library book, or perhaps a copy of the "Dayspring" or "Messenger," and had about as much idea as a kitten what all or any part of it meant; and she taught her class in very much the same way. True, in maturer years, the precepts and promises stored in her mind had an influence upon her heart and life. As if Christ's precious words were not for little children to carry in their hearts as well as in their memories!
In those three days, much work was done for the Master. With instruction, discussion and earnest talk were mingled many prayers and much praise. The interest growing, the audience increasing in numbers, until at the last session, the great church was filled to its utmost capacity, and many hearts were throbbing with emotion. New thoughts had found their way into the minds of gray-headed old men, and to some of them it now seemed a grand thing this idea of a whole congregation coming together for the study of God's word. And old men and women almost through with church-going, the middle-aged, busy fathers and mothers, and the young, enthusiastic and eager, pledged themselves to the work and joined in the consecrating hymn. It was grand and solemn, that chorus of hundreds of voices. Many of feeble faith were encouraged, slothful souls were quickened, while to some, it was the hour of a new and entire consecration to Christ. As the song died away, the voice of the leader, smooth and clear, filled the house.
"Father in heaven," he prayed, "we thank thee for this evidence that thou hast been with us, directing and guiding us by thy Spirit. We know not what vast results may grew out of our efforts to advance thy cause, and we are content to leave the knowledge with thee. Thou hast heard our solemn consecration. Wilt thou enable us to keep the vow? May we all feel its solemnity and importance, and may each of us be faithful to our promise. Wilt thou bless these thy children, who work together here? May they work hand to hand in Christian love and forbearance, illustrating in their lives the truths they teach. May they be patient and persevering, untiring and full of the spirit of devotion. May they have all needed wisdom and every Christian grace, and may thy blessing so crown their efforts that multitudes shall throng the streets of the beautiful city led into the upward way by these thy servants. And though we no more meet together here, at last, dear Christ, we shall be together and always with thee. Amen."
[CHAPTER II.]
WORK.
"O thou whose call our hearts has stirr'd!
To do thy will we come."
"I'm here," began Mabel Wynn, in her bright way, presenting herself promptly the next Sabbath at the superintendent's desk. "You know I am a fresh recruit. I shall make a poor show, but I'm ready for drill. Where shall I go?"
Mr. Clarke looked at her earnestly for a moment. He knew her only as the daughter of the richest man in Westville, a man who was prompt to serve Christ with his money, but whose time, strength and influence were given to the world. He knew that Mabel came to church regularly, dressed handsomely, and was a sort of a leader among the young ladies. He knew, too, that she was a professed friend of Christ, but he did not know the earnest and unselfish purpose of her heart to work for the Master. Mrs. Wynn called her daughter odd. "One of Mabel's freaks," or "just one of her odd whims," she would explain to her friends.