I cried almost aloud for great joy. My father and mother were moved, and when they saw my tears united their own. To our great surprise, after the service we learned that the professor was the guest of our cousin, Belinda Sprag, and at her house after dinner I had an opportunity to say to him:
"Mr. Ballou, call me your child, for you have to-day baptized me. I am a Universalist, I know, for I love your doctrine."
"Bless you, my daughter," was his reply. "God finds His own through time. May your young heart be made strong, and your life blossom with roses that have no thorns."
That was great honor to me; the touch of that hand on my head; those words addressed to me. We all went home, having had a feast of good things, and our blessed Clara, who had been the means of leading us to the light, sat all the way as in a dream, only saying:
"I have long known it was true."
Ben added his testimony to the rest.
"When I die," said he, "I want that man to preach my funeral sermon, if he will, and if he can't, I don't want any at all."
Dear boy, he had a loving heart; he was born later than either Hal or me, and had an earlier spiritual development. Is it not always so?
I could not enjoy my new thoughts in silence as Clara did, and gave vent to my theme in the strongest terms. Hal did not ridicule me at all: he was too sensible for this, but he smiled at my strong expressions, and said:
"You will preach yourself if you keep on, and I believe you would make converts. Your eyes are as large again as they were this morning."