CHAPTER X.
HOME.
_"Many sorrows shall be to the wicked: but he that trusteth in the Lord, mercy shall compass him about. Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, ye righteous: and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart."_—Psalm xxxii. 10, 11.
I will now pass over some months, and change the scene of my story from the wild glowing wastes of Africa, to a quiet little English farm,—and ask my reader to unfasten in thought the latch of its little gate, which is whitened with silvery frost, cross the small garden where the snow lies so thick that every footstep leaves its print, and through the low porch, icicle-hung, enter the old picturesque dwelling, which feels so warm and comfortable after the sharp evening air without.
Warm it is,—for large logs are blazing in the old-fashioned fireplace, which is so wide that it holds a seat on either side. And on one of these seats is Farmer Aspinall, warming his hands by the kindly blaze, after a good day's work. His wife is stirring something in a large iron pot which is simmering on the fire, and giving out a very savoury smell. Five girls of different heights, from Minnie, a gentle-looking young maiden now almost as tall as her mother,—to Nelly who is hardly higher than the table, are busy with a quantity of bright holly and mistletoe, which Eliza had just brought in. For this is Christmas eve, and the farmer's family keep up the old English custom of decking their home with evergreens, and making it gay with berries.
"Why do you look so sad, Jenny?" asked Nelly, glancing up inquiringly into the face of her sister. "Is not this Christmas time, and should we not all be glad?"
"Christmas has never seemed the same to me," said Jenny with a deep sigh, "since Davy went away."
"Ah! Yes," cried chubby-cheeked Eliza, "how merry he used to make us all!"
"His going has been a trial,—a very great trial to us," said Minnie, to whom the events related in the second chapter had been like a blight in the spring-time of life. "But our 'trials' must not make us forget our 'blessings,'—and we have had so many of these lately."
"Yes, there's the cow that uncle White gave us," interrupted Nelly.
"I shall never care for it as I cared for poor Crummie," said Bessy, the second youngest of the girls.
"And there's the famous harvest!" cried Eliza. "Our barn was never so full before!"
"And father is better—dear father! He don't want his crutch," said Nelly.
"Oh!" exclaimed Minnie, her eyes filling with tears. "When I look at that crutch hung up there, and think of all father once suffered, I feel that we can never be thankful enough to see him so well again!"
"He has a sore heart though, I know he has, and so has mother," said Jenny, lowering her voice that her parents might not overhear her; "I daresay they are both thinking of poor Davy now. I'm sure since we got that last dull letter from Heinbok Kloof (what a horrid place it must be!) I've scarce thought of anything else. I wish Christmas time were over—just think what a Christmas our Davy will have!" And a tear dropped on the spray of holly which Jenny held in her hand.
"Dear Jenny, is it not a comfort that, though parted, we can pray for him still?" said Minnie.
"I always pray for Davy," cried little Nelly; "I say,—
"'Please, God, take care of brother, and bring him safe back.'
"And so," added the child with simple faith, "I think he'll come home at last."
"Hark!" cried Jenny suddenly. "Isn't there a footstep outside?"
"Some one is tapping at the pane!" exclaimed Nelly.
"There's a face at the window!" cried Minnie.
But it was the mother's eye which first caught sight of that face, and knew it in the reflected glow from the fire-light within. There was a wild rash of all the sisters to the door, but it was the mother's hand that drew back the bolt, and let in the Wanderer—the beloved. And the first kiss of welcome to David was the kiss of the mother who, sobbing, pressed him to her heart!
Yes, it was David himself, though a good deal changed, as his family saw when they were calm enough to think of anything but the one delight of meeting. He was taller, thinner, and much more sun-burnt than when they had parted. But the change "within" was far greater than the change "without." The proud, wilful, wayward lad had come back the brave, unselfish, earnest Christian, who was resolved, by God's help, to lead a new life, ever setting duty before pleasure, or rather finding his pleasure in duty:
"Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord."
The farmer had started to his feet at the first joyful cry from his girls, and went forward to meet his son with such deep, quiet thankfulness as no words, no outward sign could express. The sisters were full of eager questionings, the father hardly uttered a word: the mother wept for joy, but the father shed no tear. Yet no one could have looked at his honest manly face on that evening, as John Aspinall sat listening to the account of the wonderful deliverances of his son, without seeing that in none of the breathless listeners was feeling more true and deep. The Christian man had gone through a life of toil, hardship, and trial; he had known sickness and suffering, poverty and disappointment. But he had put his trust in God, and God had now brought him safely through all. To Him who had been his Rock and Fortress in the time of sorrow, John Aspinall now looked up in his hour of exceeding joy.
"Many sorrows shall be to the wicked." Yes, the reader may observe, but is it not also written, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous"? True, but it is added, "The Lord delivereth him out of them all." The troubles of those who love God do not last for ever, and they leave a blessing behind—like:
"Summer showers that make the world the greener, The air still fresher, and the sky serener;"
or like the overflowings of the river Nile, which cover the fields for a while, only that they may, at a future time of the year, be covered with a more abundant harvest.
Reader, my tale is ended. Ere you lay it down, suffer me to ask you a few brief questions. Do you know anything of the blessedness of him whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered; or are you putting off repentance to a more convenient season, which may never arrive?
Are you one of those whom the Lord, through the voice of conscience, guides with His eye; or are you the stubborn self-seeking sinner, for whom is needed the bit, the bridle, and the blow?
Do you pray to the Lord in your troubles, or only seek help from man?
If you be willing "now" to seek the Lord "while He may be found," to come to your Saviour for pardon and peace, and the grace of His Holy Spirit, to make you love and obey Him, you will find that He is the best of masters, the truest of friends, the most tender of fathers. Walking in His ways, and doing His will, you will experience in the end the truth of the closing verses of this beautiful Psalm,—
"'He that trusteth in the Lord, mercy shall compass him about. Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, ye righteous; and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart.'"
PSALM XXXII.
"Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile. When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. For day and night Thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer. Selah. I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and Thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin. Selah. For this shall every one that is godly pray unto Thee in a time when Thou mayest be found: surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come nigh unto him. Thou art my hiding-place; Thou shalt preserve me from trouble; Thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. Selah. I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye. Be ye not as the horse, or as the mule, which have no understanding: whose mouth must be held in with bit and bridle, lest they come near unto thee. Many sorrows shall be to the wicked: but he that trusteth in the Lord, mercy shall compass him about. Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, ye righteous: and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart."
THE END.