“You weren’t far wrong there, William,” broke in Thomas Bradly; “for the gospel is our heavenly Father’s will and testament, making us his heirs; and it’s written with his own hand, and sealed with the blood of his dear Son. But go on, William.”
“I don’t doubt but you’re right,” resumed Foster. “Well, as I read the little Bible, I was quite astonished, for I saw how utterly ignorant I had been of its contents and teaching. Ah, yes; it’s one thing to know a few texts, just enough to furnish matter for censure and ridicule, and quite a different thing to read the very same book with a sincere desire to learn and understand what it has to tell us. I found it so, I can assure you. So I learnt from that humble little Bible of Kate’s what all my philosophy and all the philosophy in the world could never teach me.
“It isn’t to the point now, but I’ll tell you another time how this Bible came into Kate’s hands; for of course we had not one of our own in the house. A singular chance I should have called it a short time ago; but I’m coming more and more to your mind, Thomas, that chance is only a wrong and misleading term for the guiding hand of One whom I now hope to trust in, love, and obey, however unworthily.”
“The Lord be praised, his blessed name be praised!” cried Thomas Bradly, while the tears ran fast down his cheeks.
“Yes,” said Foster reverently, “he may well be praised, for I have indeed good reason to praise him.—So you see I had got to the bottom of the mystery at last, and that little book has become to me now worth a thousand times its own weight in gold.
“Day after day I went on reading it by stealth, and every day I wondered more and more at its marvellous suitableness to my own case. And then I began to do that which a few weeks back I should have looked upon as simply an evidence of insanity in a man of my views. I began to pray. I hardly dared make the attempt at first. It seemed to me that were I to venture to address the great Being whose existence I had denied, and whose name I had constantly blasphemed, a flash of lightning or some other sudden exertion of his power would strike me dumb. But I did venture at last to offer up an earnest cry for mercy and pardon in the name of that Saviour who invites us to offer our prayers in his name; and then it seemed as though a mountain were lifted from my heart, and blindness were removed from my eyes.
“Next day, after tea, I quietly asked Kate for the Bible. I shall never forget her look as long as I live. Fear, hope, joy followed one another like sunshine breaking through the clouds. Could I be in earnest? She did not hesitate long, for she saw that in my face which told her that she might trust me with her treasure. Then she brought out the book from its hiding-place, put it on the table by me, and throwing her arms round my neck, wept away the sorrows of years. And it may be that at that time angels looked down upon us, and shed tears of joy to see two poor penitent sinners thus ‘sitting at the feet of their Saviour, clothed, and in their right mind.’”
For a while no one spoke, for all were too deeply moved. At last Foster continued: “I knew I should have to come out on the right side openly sooner or later, but you may be sure it would be no easy matter. However, I had made up my mind: it would have to be done some time or other, so, as the Annual Temperance Meeting was soon to come off—I knew that, for Joe Wright’s party were boasting of what they meant to do—I determined to show my colours by joining your society, and you have seen the result.”
“Yes, William,” said Bradly, cheerily, “I see it, and I bless the Lord for it; and if he has made me in any way an unworthy instrument in helping to bring about this change, I can truly say that he has paid me back interest a thousandfold for any little I’ve ever done or suffered for him.”