But Courtland flung up his hat in a boyish way and laughed. "I should
worry about my name after I am gone," he said. "And as for the work,
it's for me to do, isn't it? Not for me to arrange for after I'm dead.
If my heavenly Father wants it to keep up after I'm gone He'll manage to
find a way, won't He? My job is to look after it while I'm here. Perhaps
it won't be needed any longer after I'm gone. God sent me here to buy
His church when it was for sale, didn't He? Well, then, if it is for
sale again he'll find somebody else to buy it, unless He is done with
it. The New Jerusalem may be here by that time and we won't have to have
any churches. God Himself shall be the tabernacle! So you see I'm just
going on running my own little old church the best I can with what God
gives me, and I won't trouble any boards at present, not so long as I
have money enough to keep the wheels moving."
They went away then with doubtful looks, and Courtland heard one say to
another, shaking his head in a dubious way:
"I don't like it. It's all very irregular!"
And the other replied: "Yes! It's a pity about him! He might have done
something big if he hadn't been so impractical!"
"The poor stews!" said Pat, dryly, looking after them. "They haven't got
religion enough to carry them over till next week, the most of them, and
what they'll do when they really see what kind the Lord is I can't
guess! I wonder what they think that rich young man that Jesus loved
would have been like, anyway, if he hadn't gone away sorrowful and kept
his vast possessions. Cut it out, Pat! You're letting the devil in again
and getting censorious! Just shut your mouth and saw wood! They'll find
out some little old day in the morning, I guess."
Courtland wrote it all to Bonnie, all the happenings at seminary and
church, what the theologues had said about his being impractical and
irregular, and Bonnie, with a tender smile, leaned down and kissed the
words in the letter, and murmured, "Dear impractical beloved!" all
softly to herself.
For Bonnie was very happy. The possession of great wealth that would
have to be spent in the usual way, surrounded by social distinction,
attended by functions and society duties, would have been an
inexpressible burden to her. But money to be used without limit in
helping other people was a miracle of joy. To think that it should have
come to her!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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