“I think I am sure I will receive a reward,” said Edward, as he stood with his school friends.
It was examination day, and many a young heart was beating quick with the hope of receiving a reward, or with the fear of failure.
Some had looked forward to this day, studying hard, knowing how carefully they would be examined. They knew they would be either rewarded or punished according to how well they had learned their lessons.
Others did not seem to care. They wasted the time they should have used for study. How they wished now they would have made more of an effort to study.
In the centre of the schoolroom was placed a long table that had books of various sizes and values on it. There were Bibles and Testaments, both large and small, the histories of Rome, of Greece, and of England. There were volumes elegantly bound and old pamphlets just stitched together.
The school was large, and it was their plan that every boy who had exerted himself to the best of his ability, however little that might be, would be rewarded and carry home a gift to remind him of his diligence and perseverance of work well done.
Like the servants to whom the Lord intrusted the talents, some had five, and some had but one. Yet those with one could not be excused for neglecting their duty because their talent was small. Even the youngest and the simplest child at school may make good use of the talents and opportunities the Lord has given him to improve.
With anxious hearts and earnest faces, the boys arranged themselves around the table. They were examined with great care and patience by their teachers, as to the progress they had made in their studies.
Now, Edward had set his heart on one particular book, the Roman History, neatly bound, and making two very pretty volumes, which he thought would handsomely fill up a vacant spot on his bookshelves.
All he could do was think of this set of books until no other prize was of any value in his sight. This is a great fault often committed by children as well as adults. Instead of thankfully receiving whatever gift the Lord provides them. They would choose for themselves; they become discontented and unhappy in the midst of blessings, because the wisdom of God sees fit to withhold one thing that their folly deems necessary to their happiness.
Edward passed his examination with much credit, and one of the first gifts was adwarded to him; but instead of the Roman History, a very neat Bible, in excellent large type, was placed in his hands.
Many of his schoolmates had longed for that Bible, but Edward did not care for it.
The eyes of the foolish boy filled with tears, as he saw the elegant History of Rome presented to another boy, who, perhaps would gladly have exchanged with him.
The next day Edward shared his disappointment to his parents, who thought his desire for the Roman History was a good choice; but since he had done so well in his examination, they did not care what reward he had been given.
Edward’s family lived in the country, not far from the seaside, in a most delightful and healthful location.
At this time his mother’s brother, whose health was very poor, came to enjoy the benefit of the sea breezes, and rest a little from the toil and bustle of active life in the big city of London.
Mr. Lewis was a young man of the most pleasing manners and appearance. He was gentle and serious, but not at all gloomy or sad.
His health was poor and this only served to increase his patience in enduring it without a murmuring word or discontented look. Edward, who was really a kind-hearted and affectionate boy, soon became very much attached to his uncle, who had not seen him for any years and who was much pleased with the time he could spend with his nephew now.
It was only three days after Edward’s school was over, that he went bounding over the grounds in search of his uncle, whose society he already preferred to his usual amusements.
Mr. Lewis was seated under a fine old oak, A rich and extensive tract of country lay spread before his eyes; and, at a distance the mighty ocean, whose deep green waters were seen in beautiful contrast with the pale yellow cliff, bounded the view of the landscape.
Mr. Lewis had a book in his hand, into which he frequently looked, and then raised his eyes again to gaze upon the beauties of nature that surrounded him.
He seemed so deep in thought that Edward did not want to disturb him, until his uncle, seeing him at some little distance, kindly beckoned him to come near.
“Is not this a beautiful place, uncle” asked Edward, as he seated himself beside him; “and do you not find the breeze from the water very refreshing?”
“It is beautiful indeed, my dear boy; and I am refreshed as I look around me.”
“Is that a Bible you are reading, Uncle?”
“Yes. I always find it the best commentary upon His works;—they explain each other.”
“I love the Bible too, Uncle,” said Edward, “and got a good grade in Scripture class this last half-year.”
“And which did you enjoy most, Edward, the Scriptures, or the grade you got for studying them?”
Edward looked a little embarrassed and did not immediately reply.
“It is quite right to take pleasure in the well-earned praise from your teachers,” continued Mr. Lewis, “and I was glad to hear that you were given a reward at the last examination also.”
“Yes, Uncle, but not the prize I wanted most. There was a Roman History that I would have liked better, and it was exactly of equal value with the Bible that I got.”
“Of equal value, Edward?”
“I mean that it was not considered a higher prize, and it would have been a nicer book for me.”
“Then you had a Bible already?”
“Why, no, Uncle, not of my own, but it is easy to borrow one on the Sabbath; and I had gone through all my memory verses, and do not want it on other days.”
“Read these four verses for me,” said Mr. Lewis, pointing to the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy “commencing with the sixth verse.”
Edward read: “And these words which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart; and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shall talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes, and thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.”
“To whom did the Lord give this command, Edward?”
“To the Jews, Uncle.”
“Yes; and the word of God, which cannot pass away, is as much binding on us as on them, in everything excepting the sacrifices and ceremonies, which foreshadowed the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ, and which were done away. For by His death He fulfilled all those types and shadows.”
“Then,” said Edward, “we are commanded to write the Bible on our hands and on our doorposts.”
“No, my dear boy, not literally, but in a figure of speech; as the Lord, when declaring He never will forget Zion, says, ‘I have graven thee upon the palms of My hands; thy walls are continually before Me.’
“The meaning of the passage you first read is, that we must have the word of God as continually present in our minds as anything written on our hands, and on every object around us, would be to our bodily sight. And how are we to get our thoughts so occupied by it, Edward?”
“By continually reading it I suppose,” replied Edward, rather sullenly.
By reading it often, and meditating on it much,” said his uncle; “and that we can do without interfering with our other business. Without prayer, you cannot obtain any spiritual blessing, nor maintain any communion with God; and without reading the Scriptures you will have but little desire to pray.
“We are like people wandering in the dark while the Bible is as a bright lamp held out to direct us in the only safe path. You cannot be a child of God if you do not His will; you cannot do it unless you know it, and it is by the Bible that He is pleased to have that knowledge known. Do you begin to see, Edward, that the Bible is more suitable as an every-day book than your profane history?”
“Why, yes, Uncle; but the Bible is a serious book, and if I read it so constantly, I would never be happy.”
“There is no happiness among the lost, Edward; and that will be your final reward if you neglect the great salvation that you can read of in the Bible. Besides, there is no foundation for what you suppose to be the effect of reading the Bible. I have known people naturally sad all the time, become cheerful and happy by studying it; but I never in my life saw an instance of persons becoming unhappy because they had a hope of going to heaven.”
“I remember, Uncle, that it is written concerning wisdom, that ‘her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.’”
“Most true, my dear boy, ‘quietness and assurance forever’ is the portion of God’s people.”
“‘Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice.’
“‘The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.’
“Are such expressions as these likely to make us gloomy, Edward?”
“O no, Uncle; and I often wonder that you, who suffer so much pain, and read the Bible constantly, are not unhappy.”
“How can I be, Edward, when the Bible tells me that all these things are working together for my spiritual good? That He who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will with Him also freely give us all things?
“When I think of what my sins deserve, and see the Lamb of God bearing the chastisement that should fall upon me, how can I be melancholy!
“When I feel that the Spirit of God is bringing these things to my remembrance, and enabling me to love the Lord Jesus, who has done so much for me, I can only rejoice.
“I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing; and since God has promised forgiveness to all who seek that blessing through His Son; and since I feel assured that I have sought that blessing, and feel peace and joy in believing, surely the song of praise, not the moan of lamentation, becomes me.
“Yet I do lament, Edward, daily lament my many sins against God; but I am assured that Christ’s blood cleanseth from all sin, and that in Him I have a powerful and all-prevailing Advocate with the Father. I know in whom I have believed, and that He will never cast off nor forsake me.
“I am sinking into the grave, my dear boy, but I do not shrink from that prospect, because the bitterness of death is taken away by my Saviour, who died for my sins, and rose again for my justification; and though this body returns to dust, I shall live again, and enter into the presence of my Redeemer, and rejoice there evermore.”
Edward looked at the animated countenance of his uncle, and then cast down his eyes; they were full of tears. At last he said:—
“Indeed, Uncle, I am a very sinful boy, neglecting the Bible, because I know it would show me my sin, and the consequences of it.
“But I will trifle no more with God’s displeasure. I will get that precious Bible, worth a thousand times more than the Roman histories, and I will read it daily, with prayer that I may be wise unto salvation.”
Mr. Lewis did not live long after this. He died, rejoicing in the hope of life eternal; and as often as Edward had time from school work, he was seen under the oak tree, with the Bible in his hand, from which he learned more and more the will of his God and Saviour, the utter sinfulness of his own nature, and his inability to help himself. From this holy word he learned to place all his dependence upon the merits of his Saviour, to follow the example of his Saviour, in prayer, in resignation, and in doing good to the poor.
He often thought of his dear uncle, and counted that day happy when he sat to listen to his kind advice, which brought him to a knowledge of himself, and of his heavenly Father.