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Mr. Hubbell’s Conversion

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jan 24, 1907

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 84, No. 4.

Read the full edition

Mr. Hubbell’s Conversion

By Lephia Bryant Larson

(Continued)
LEPHIA BRYANT LARSON
MR. HUBBELL would have been deeply shocked if any one had told him he was unkind to his motherless boy and girl. He had no love for, nor faith in, the Bible; but from their mother the children had inherited a deep love for God’s Word, and had always been gentle and obedient to the gruff parent whose heart each day grew harder and colder toward Christians.
The meetings in the village had continued a week. Reports reached the farmhouse every day, but Mrs. Clonkey had not returned, nor had any of the Hubbells attended the services.
Jamie had grown very despondent. One day he sat under his favorite apple-tree, reading the little paper he had bought of Mrs. Clonkey. He never murmured because he was lame, but his bright eyes had grown dim of late, and Mr. Hubbell paused often to gaze at his son, and wonder if it would be any use to “take him to any more doctors.” “It’s cost me a heap already, but I’d like to see the lad well, I would,” he thought, as the thud, thud, of Jamie’s crutches smote his ears.
This day Mr. Hubbell was close by, hoeing cabbage, and Mr. Offish coming along at the time, he leaned over the fence, and talked in a low tone.
“Ten converts!” exclaimed Mr. Hubbell. “Ten!”
“Yes, an’ Deacon Swift’s among ’em! I ain’t bin yet, but Jane says ’twould do us, you and me, good just to go an’ listen. That’s mostly what I came over here for this morning. Do you want to go to-night?” Mr. Offish stroked his thin beard reflectively, and looked out of the corner of his eye at Mr. Hubbell, to see how he would take the invitation.
“Dr. True an’ his wife rose for prayers last night. Jane says.”
“Old Doc. True? You don’t say!”
“Yes, who’d a thought it!” solemnly added Mr. Offish. “He stood purty nigh to us believin’ in nothing—eh? Hubbell, you think you want to go fer the fun of it? It’s a little change from the monotony of hoeing. Better say ‘Go,’ an’ I’ll come after you right away after supper.”
Mr. Hubbell debated the matter a moment. “Yes, I’ll go,” he said. “Will you take your wife, or shall we go together and take front seats?”
“Jane’s bin four times, and ain’t goin’ to-night, that’s why I thought I’d go. You see I got kind o’ curious. She’s bin talkin’ so much about it. But I ain’t lettin’ her know I’m goin’; no, sir! I told her I had to drive over to the Ridge to get Clem Johnson to help get in the hay. Well, then I’ll drive along here by seven. I promised to stop for Tom Sykes, too; and it’ll be good for weak eyes to see us three hard old fellows sittin’ up front, won’t it, Hubbell? You’ll be ready?”
“Yes,” answered Mr. Hubbell.
The little hall was well filled when Mr. Offish and his two friends entered. Heads turned to see who was coming in so late. Three young men, whose faces shone with the holy light of God’s truth, had risen to sing as the late comers walked toward the front seats, the only available ones. Loud and clear from lips touched with the fire of living faith, rang the words:— “ The waters are troubled, The angel is here; The fountain of mercy Flows healing and clear; O come in your sorrow, And come in your sin; The waters are troubled: Step in, O step in!” Mr. Offish saw two empty seats, and drew his friends into them. One of the singers paused and handed down a chair from the platform. The hall was filled. “ The waters are troubled, No longer delay; The fountain of mercy Has healing to-day; Then why will you linger, Since life you may win? The waters are troubled: Step in, O step in!”
All was quiet now; the youngest man of the three singers opened his Bible and read from the fifth chapter of St. John: “ ‘For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.’
“Read all the chapter, friends, when you get home. Jesus is just as willing to heal the sick to-day as he was then. Draw near him with a heart of faith, and leave at his feet all your sin and sickness.
“He’s coming soon, dear friends; he’s calling you—you with your blindness—you with your lameness—you with your sadness—every one of you. Jesus is calling you away from the things that hold you to this sin-cursed earth. Strange that of all God’s creation man should deny him!—strange, when he says, ‘Wilt thou be made whole?’ and, ‘The prayer of faith shall save the sick,’ that we don’t want to take his remedy—the cup of faith that Jesus offers us.
“Satan is using all his power to make us sick and to keep us from drinking the living water of faith found in God’s Word. Jesus is waiting to bless you,—to heal you of your infirmities. Let him save you now; and be among those who ‘shall run, and not be weary;’ who ‘shall walk, and not faint.’
“God’s Word is true. The time is short in which to work for Jesus.
“ ‘The waters are troubled, The angel still waits; He pauses in peril Who halts and debates: Give over your falt’ring, Your struggles within; The waters are troubled: Step in, O step in!’
“ ‘The meeting is now in your hands, dear friends, and may the angel bring healing and joy to every burdened one here!’ Mr. Clonkey sat down.
(To be concluded)