Added Upon Part 13

"Yes; what do you think of it?"

"I have been thinking considerably about it. It sets forth gospel doctrine altogether different from what I have ever heard; still it agrees perfectly with what Christ and His disciples taught. You know, I have always been taught that man is a kind of pa.s.sive being, as regards the salvation of his soul; that everything has been done for him; that, in fact, it would be the basest presumption on his part to attempt to do anything for himself; that man is without free agency in the matter; that he is simply as a lump of clay, and with little more intelligence or active powers."

"I know all about such teachings," said Signe, as she went for her Bible. "They were drilled into me in the old country."

"Now," continued he, "I see that such doctrines lower man, who is, in fact, a child of G.o.d. I cannot perceive that an Allwise Parent would thus take away the agency of His children. We have a motto in school which says: 'Self effort educates,' and I believe that to be the only principle upon which we can safely grow, if we are to become like unto our Eternal Father."

"Yes," answered Signe, "but you must remember one thing, that 'as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.' The resurrection from the dead comes through Christ without any effort on our part. We were not responsible for Adam's transgression, therefore we are redeemed from its effects through the atonement of Christ, all mankind are, both good and bad--all will arise and stand before G.o.d to be judged by the deeds done in the body."

"Yes; I admit all that; but it is hardly plain to me what we must do to be freed from our individual sins. We are in the midst of sin. We are in a mortal state and partake of our surroundings. Now, there must be a plan by which we may be rid of these imperfections, for if we are ever to live in the presence of G.o.d, it seems to me that we must be pure and holy, without sin."

Signe had her book open. "I will read here an answer to your question,"

she said. "You remember that on the day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit was given, Peter preached to a large crowd of people. Many of them believed, and being p.r.i.c.ked in their hearts, they said: 'Men and brethren, what shall we do?' You know they are not the only ones who have asked that question."

"No, you are right."

"'And Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.' That's plain enough, isn't it? Words can make it no clearer. When Peter saw that they had faith, he told them to repent, then be baptized for the remission of their sins, then they would get the Holy Ghost."

"And the promise was to them and to their children and to them that were afar off. Signe, is it not to us also?" Rupert asked, eagerly, "why shouldn't it be?"

"The promise is not limited--it is to you and to me. I, Rupert, have obeyed Peter's word, and have received the promise. You may do the same, and the same blessings will follow. The gospel is a law, a natural law, and oh, such a beautiful one!"

"Why haven't I heard this before?" exclaimed he. "Why isn't it written in our books, and taught us in our childhood? Signe, I am a bit bewildered yet."

"Rupert," said she, with a smile that had something of sadness in it, "the world is 'Ever learning but never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.' 'Darkness has covered the earth and gross darkness the people.' 'And as with the people, so with the priest.' 'The earth also is defiled under the inhabitants thereof; because they have transgressed the laws, changed the ordinance, broken the everlasting covenant.' Is there any wonder that you have not heard these doctrines before? Though you may read about them in the Bible, the world has been without their living presence for many hundreds of years. But a new time has come to the world. The gospel in its fulness and purity has been restored. We read here that John, on the Isle of Patmos, saw that in the latter days an angel would 'fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach to them that dwell on the earth.' That angel has come, Rupert, that gospel has been restored; and what I have been telling you are the teachings of that gospel. Man is again endowed with power from on high to preach the gospel and administer its ordinances to those who believe."

Rupert listened with deepest interest. He became as a disciple at her feet. They talked far into the night, and when Mr. and Mrs. Janson came home they found them bending low over the fire reading from the "good old book." Their heads were close together, the dark-brown one and the one of soft, silken tresses.

X.

"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith."--_II Tim. 4:7._

Rupert was now continually thinking of the great questions of life.

Never before had he been so stirred in his feelings; never before had he contemplated life in the light which now came to him. His heart was full of love, grat.i.tude, and praise which swelled within him, and seemed to take possession of his whole being.

The winter pa.s.sed, and Rupert closed his school. He came to the conclusion that school teaching was not his forte, though the people were satisfied with his work. He longed to be out digging ditches. He liked it far better, and conjectured that in this world his mission was to make the physical deserts to blossom as the rose.

During the summer, Chamogo valley did undergo a change. One side of the valley was brought under irrigation, and a number of farms were sold at a good profit. Mr. Janson did right by Rupert, and together they worked and prospered.

And that which now filled Rupert's cup of happiness was the fact that he had rendered obedience to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and had received the promised gifts and blessings following. The light that leadeth into all truth was his. With Signe and her co-religionists, he could now see eye to eye, all having the same glorious hope for the future.

One more winter pa.s.sed; and when nature had spread her robe of green over Chamogo valley, preparations were made for the ceremony that would make Rupert and Signe husband and wife. Rupert longed to see Willowby and Dry Bench once more, so it was decided that after they had visited the Temple of G.o.d and had been sealed to each other for time and all eternity, they would take a trip to Rupert's old home. They were married in the Temple. Within its sacred walls they experienced more fully than ever before what still sweetness there is in the ministrations of the Spirit of G.o.d.

They reached Willowby late in September. He had written Nina when he would be there, and she and her husband were at the station to meet them.

There were tears in their eyes at the meeting.

"Nina, this is my wife," said Rupert. "Signe, my sister, Mrs. Furns."

A number of Rupert's old friends were there who now came forward and welcomed him home.

Then they rode through the valley behind two spirited grays. Nina had not changed much, but she declared that had she met her brother on the street, she would not have known him.

"What has changed you so, brother?" asked she.

"Experience, Nina, experience with the world I have lived a long time in the two and a half years that I have been away--but never mind that now.

Everything looks the same hereabouts. I seem to have been absent but a few days. How strange it is! Signe, there you see Willowby, on that rise; quite a town yet. How's Dry Bench, James?"

"Much the same, Rupe. No improvements since you left."

"And the reservoir?"

"As you left it, though it needs repairing badly."

In the few moments of silence that followed, Rupert contrasted his condition now with what it was when he left the place. What a change! He was wiser if not much older. And then he had a wife--and he looked lovingly at her as he thought of all she had done for him. As they drove into town, friends greeted him and seemed pleased at his return.

Married? Yes; that is his wife. Not so dashing as Miss Wilton, but far more charming, was the general expression.

That evening there was quite a social gathering at Nina's.

Early next morning, before others of the household were astir, Rupert and Signe went up to Dry Bench. A beautiful morning greeted them. They walked up towards the hill that they might get a good view of the farm, and when they turned, Dry Bench was before them. The trees had grown, but otherwise it was the same scene that he had looked upon many and many a time. The memory of a particular morning came to him--the morning when Miss Wilton's horse had run away. Miss Wilton had never been heard of since she left Willowby.

"How beautiful!" exclaimed Signe. "Do you know, Rupert, it reminds me of a scene in Norway. I must make a sketch here before we leave."

"Sit down on this rock," said he, "while I tell you something. Here's my overcoat." He made a seat for her and he stood by her side.

"Signe, nearly six years ago, I stood here on this spot. I was the owner of the farm that you see. In fact, I dug this ditch. I set out that orchard, I planned and built the reservoir that has made all this possible; and then I stood here, and in the pride of my heart I said: 'All this is mine. I have done it all.' Now I understand that G.o.d put me on trial, lent me some of His riches to try me, and then, seeing that I was not in a condition to stand such favors, took them all from me. Yes, it was a blessing in disguise. Darling, for this knowledge I am indebted to you," and he leaned over and kissed her.

"There you are wrong again," she said; "what about G.o.d above?"

"You are right. 'Tis He only who should have our grat.i.tude. You have been but an instrument in His hand. I see it all. O Father, forgive my foolish thoughts." He uncovered his head, as if in prayer.

He sat down with her on the stone. The smoke began to rise from the chimneys of the town below, and soon the Dry Bench farm-houses showed signs of life. He pressed her cheek against his own.

"Sweetheart," said he, "'When love has blended and molded two beings in an angelic and sacred union, they have found the secret of life; henceforth they are only the two terms of the same destiny, the two wings of one mind. Love and soar.' That is from Victor Hugo; how true it is."

After a time they went down to the old home. A Mr. Temming was living there, as a renter. He was not acquainted with Mr. Ames, and was not disposed to show much courtesy, so they left.

"What do you think of the place?" he asked.

"I like it."

"Could you live there?"

"All my life, I could. Rupert, I see you in every tree, fence, and ditch."