"No, grandfather," he answered, quietly; "you must not claim me as a returning prodigal. Your creed is as far beyond me as ever. But—I think—I think I have found the Christ."
Instantly the old man's arms were about his neck, and, raising his face, he laughed aloud.
"It is enough," he said, exultantly. "It is enough! To God be all the praise."
The ice being broken, conversation flowed in a deeper channel, and when the Rev. Reuben laid his head upon his pillow that night, it was with a kindlier feeling in his heart for those who doubted, and with a larger charity for those who preached a broader creed.
"It is very strange," he mused, "that my preaching should have driven the lad to doubt, while the preaching of my successor should have helped him back to faith."
On the following morning Rufus went with the old people to chapel. The place seemed very cool and restful after the glare of the sunshine outside, and while the familiar hymns were being sung he felt like a boy again.
Marshall Brook took for his text: "Are ye not better than many sparrows?" It was a quiet, thoughtful, searching sermon, without dogmatism and with no trace of declamation. The care of the Great Father for His children, the doctrine of a Divine Providence, was unfolded carefully, lucidly, reasonably. There was no attempt to ignore difficulties or to give scientific objections the go-by. Providence was not in conflict with the operations of nature. Providence worked on parallel lines. The universal Spirit was ever moving upon the hearts of men, suggesting, inspiring, renewing.
"I am hungry and in need," said the preacher, "and someone is moved to bring me help. Why did he think of me at all? Who put the impulse into his heart? Ordinarily, it may be, he is not a generous man; yet he trampled down his selfishness, and came to my succour when I needed it most.
"Was it a miracle? Not in the ordinary sense, and yet in truth it was a miracle. To me it was the interposition of God's Providence. God saw my need and sent His help."
Rufus did not hear the end of the sermon. He was thinking of his own case. Help came to him when he needed it most. He had prayed for death, prayed that he might be saved from an act which was unworthy of any true man. And in the very nick of time salvation came. Was it a mere accident, a stroke of luck, a fortunate turn in the wheel of chance? Or was it Providence, an impulse or an inspiration from the all-pervading Spirit?