“He had been living a very gay and thoughtless life. I am not sure that he had been indulging in any openly sinful practices; but, at any rate, he had been giving himself up wholly to the pursuit of this world. He was in a good social position, and possessed of abundant means. Moreover, he had received a good education, so far as mere learning went, and was of pleasing and popular manners. The last thing he would have thought of would have been turning a Christian. But God, whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, had better things in store for him. The revival wave swept over the neighbourhood where he was, and carried him along with it. His heart, his views, his aims were all really changed; he was, indeed and in truth, a new creature. And now he felt that he must not hide his colours, he must nail them to the mast, or, rather, he must wrap them round him that, go where he might, every one might see them. His was that thorough-going, energetic, outspeaking disposition which has accomplished such marvellous earthly things through so many of his fellow-countrymen. He was not the person to do anything by halves.
“Before his conversion, himself and several other young men, of like tastes and habits, used to meet weekly at one another’s houses, in turn, for card-playing and carousing; and at these meetings he used to be the very life of the party, the gayest of the gay. But what should he do now? It would be no easy matter to confess to his young associates the change that had taken place in his heart. What would they think and say? Perhaps he might let it get known by degrees, and then he could just absent himself from the old gatherings, and merely drop out of a society no longer congenial to him. This would save him a great deal of shame and reproach. Would not this be as much as could be reasonably expected of him, and sufficient to show his sincerity and consistency? It might have satisfied ordinary characters, but it did not satisfy him. He wanted to be doing something at once for the Master, and to begin with those very young men who had been his companions in sin. So he sent round his printed invitations to every one of them to a gathering in his own house. Such had been the custom with all the members of their fraternity. But this time the invitation was no longer to ‘Tea and Cards,’ but to ‘Tea and Prayer.’ It was, indeed, a bold stroke, but it was not the act of the moment from mere impulse or excitement.
“The day of meeting came. A few of his old acquaintances arrived, some, it may be, out of curiosity, or supposing that the ‘Prayer’ was only a joke. But none were left in doubt. Plainly, lovingly, faithfully, he set before them how the change had been wrought in himself, and how happy it had made him; and then he affectionately urged them all to take the same course as he had done. And I believe that his noble and courageous dealing was not in vain. Am I wrong, Walter, in classing that young American gentleman among my moral heroes?”
“No, dear aunt, certainly not,” replied her nephew thoughtfully. “I think he deserves a foremost place;—don’t you, Amos?”
“Yes,” replied his brother; “he reminds me of the greatest, perhaps, of all moral heroes—I mean, of course, among beings like ourselves. I am thinking of the apostle Paul, who changed at once from the persecutor to the preacher; gave up every earthly honour and advantage; braved the bitter scorn of his old friends; and, without hesitation, began immediately publicly to proclaim the gospel which he had before been mad to destroy.”
Walter held out his hand to his brother, and the clasp was a close and mutual one; and then, hand in hand, they left their aunt, who laid her head on her pillow that night with deep thankfulness in her heart, for she saw that, spite of all drawbacks, there was a good work making progress in Walter, and that the high and holy character of the true and tried disciple of the Saviour was gaining strength and beauty in the once despised and misunderstood Amos.