CHRISTMAS DAY had come once more, bringing not only its message of "Peace on earth" from God, but of goodwill from men to men; for into many a poor home had gone gifts to gladden, and Christmas cheer to chase away, for the time at least, some of the clouds of poverty and care that hung so heavily there.
To the Mellors it had been an unusually good time; a substantial dinner of beef and plum pudding from the Mission Hall, a present of groceries from Phil's employer, two hundredweight of coals from Mr. Armstrong, and new jackets for Phil and Rob, made by Mrs. Forbes' clever, kindly fingers, out of one of her husband's big police overcoats, all combined to make the day a very happy one; and though there was genuine regret that the father was upon a suffering bed, yet both to wife and children Stephen Mellor's absence was undoubtedly a source of peace.
The week that had elapsed since his accident had been a week of unusual quietness and comfort in the home. To Rob, the chief joy of Christmas Day lay in a surprise that he had for Mr. Jasper; for not only had the Mission Hall folk sent an ample supply of dinner to the Mellors, but, in response to Rob's earnest pleadings, a good basinful of beef, potatoes and pudding had been given him for his old friend; and no sooner had Rob swallowed the last mouthful of his own dinner, than Jasper's portion, which had been carefully put close to the fire to keep warm must be taken round.
As fast as his little legs could carry him Rob speeded down Preece's Place with his precious burden. The shed was soon reached, and in response to Rob's knock Jasper appeared at the door.
"Halloa, Rob, I thought Christmas Day was a sort of stay-at-home day to family folk like you. What's brought you here?"
But Rob was too excited to say much, until, having put the basin on the table, and taken off the newspaper wherewith he had covered and hidden the dinner, he turned round and gasped out, "There!"
Jasper was fairly surprised. "Why, where has this sprung from?" he said. "Have you and Phil been stinting yourselves to give your old friend a taste of Christmas fare?"
"No, Mr. Jasper; our Mr. Armstrong sent it to you, every bit; only I didn't want you to know about it until 'twas all here." And the child stood beaming with delight at his friend's pleasant surprise.
"Ah, but I guess if Mr. Armstrong sent it, it was Rob Mellor asked for it, eh?" And tears came into the old man's eyes at this fresh proof of the child's genuine love.
"Why, yes, of course, he knows all about you, Mr. Jasper, and what a great friend you are of mine; and you know he'll be very glad to see you when you come to the Hall."
Jasper laughed. "One of these fine days, Rob, perhaps! Wait till the spring comes, and we shall see. But anyhow you must give him my very best thanks for this beautiful dinner;" and sitting down, he began to taste the goodly fare that Rob had brought, while the child crouched down at his feet, close to the stove.
"I like Christmas, Mr. Jasper, don't you?"
"Well, Rob, I like Christmas dinner, but I don't see much in the day, except that sometimes it sets a man wishing he had somebody belonging to him."
"But it's Jesus Christ's birthday."
"So I've heard say, Rob; but what of that?"
"Why, Mr. Jasper, don't you see, if He hadn't had a birthday down here, He wouldn't have ever lived down here, and then died for us that we might go to heaven. Teacher says that for a long, long time God had promised that He would send a Saviour to die for us, to save us from being punished for our sins; and then one night, in the very middle of the night, the angels brought the message that the Saviour had come; and I should think everybody was glad. Then the shepherds that the angels spoke to went off directly to see the little baby that was to grow to be a man, and then to die; and when they looked at Him, they knew that God had kept His promise, and they were so glad, because He was going to be punished instead of them; and that's why He's called a Saviour. I can find it in the Bible, if you like, because I have read it my own self; it's in the second chapter of Luke;" and Rob jumped up and reached down the old book.
"It's rather hard words," he said. "I don't know that I can read it all."
"Never mind, Rob; you leave it open there. Maybe I'll have a look at it myself by-and-by."
And when the child had gone, and he was left alone, he did "have a look at it," not only by the light of the lamp that burned at his side, but by the light of God's Holy Spirit shining in his heart.
That light had indeed of late been making manifest the evil, and showing him that he was a sinner; but God never does His work by halves, and now the same light should reveal to him God's provision for sin—a Saviour.
Carefully did he read the Gospel narrative of the birth of Christ; the joyous message that had come from heaven to earth on that first Christmas morn. "Unto you is born this day a Saviour."
"Unto you;" but did that mean a favoured few? Nay; what said the next verse? "I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." "All!" then that must include him—Jonas Jasper! "A Saviour which is Christ the Lord." "The Lord," why, that was God Himself; the Lord who said all the terrible things about sin was the Lord who came to be the Saviour! For the first time in his life Jonas began to see the two sides of God's heart, His hatred of sin, and His love for the sinner. He hated sin so much that He must punish it; but He loved the sinner so much that He bore the punishment for him.
For a long time the old man sat with his eyes fixed on the words, as if trying to take in their full meaning. "It's just what I want, and no mistake," he said to himself. "'A Saviour.' I shouldn't be afraid to die then, if my sins had all been punished. 'My sins'—and I used to think I wasn't a sinner, but a respectable fellow who could hold his own before God and man. Anyhow, it's a good thing I've found it out. I mind Phil said one day 'twould be a dreadful thing to find it out afterwards."
"'Tis bad enough now, but I begin to see a little hope, if God has sent a Saviour! I never used to think these things concerned me, but it seems to me now the Bible must have been written on purpose for me; anyhow it just fits me. How I wish I had started reading it before! Halloa, what's that?" and Jasper listened, as a sound of singing broke upon his ear, sweet, clear, childish voices outside somewhere.
"That's Phil and Rob, I'll be bound, come carol-singing to their old friend. What voices they've got, to be sure! No wonder they pick up something when they start that! What is it they're singing?" And before opening his door Jasper stopped to listen. They were close outside, so the words came clearly.
The voices ceased, and for a moment Jasper stood, before opening the door, as the refrain echoed in his ear, "Seeking for Me, dying for me, calling for me." He would like to have been alone just then, to think it all over; but the lads were knocking for admittance, and he couldn't keep them outside, so the bolt was drawn, and in came the singers, cold indeed (for it was real Christmas weather), but full of spirits and cheeriness.
"How did you like our hymn, Mr. Jasper?" And Phil seated himself as close as possible to the stove.
"Very much, Phil; but there's one fault to find with it."
"What's that?"
"Why, 'twas too short by half; you should get hold of something longer. Why, I'd no sooner begun to listen than you stopped."
"We'll sing it again if you like."
"So do, then; but wait a bit till I'm settled in my chair all comfortable. Rob, there's just room for you to curl in there. Now we're all straight."
In a minute the boys sang their Christmas hymn once more, and again the words fell on Jasper's ear:—
After they had finished there was perfect silence for some minutes. Phil saw that Jasper was lost in thought, and motioned to Rob to keep quiet; but presently the old man in very low tones broke the stillness.
"Yes, it was wonderful, wonderful!"
"Did you speak, Mr. Jasper?" and Rob's hand found its way into his friend's.
"I think I was talking to myself, Rob, and that isn't fair, is it, when you come to talk to me? I like your hymn very much; where did you get it?"
"Oh, it's in our Sunday School book, and we learnt it up at John Street; we sang it at lots of places last night about the streets, after I left work."
"And picked up lots of pennies, I daresay?"
Phil laughed.
"Well, we did pretty fairly, I think; we've paid our lodgings right on for next week, so that's nice, and we have a little to go on with."
"And what do you expect me to give you for your singing?"
Phil looked up in astonishment.
"Why, nothing, Mr. Jasper. You don't suppose we sang for that, do you?"
"No, I don't, Phil. I believe God sent you to sing to me to-night;" and there was a strange earnestness in Jonas's voice as he said the words. "Anyhow, I'd like to hear you once more."
"Not the same one again, Mr. Jasper; we've got such lots we know."
"I don't think you'll beat the one you sang just now, Rob; but you shall please yourselves."
So after a moment's discussion they sang the same words once more.
"And now we'll finish up with a fresh one." But Jasper hardly heeded them as they commenced to sing again. The words already sung seemed to have taken such a hold of him, as he sat there pondering over them.
Presently the boys suddenly ceased their singing, and Rob said,—
"I've forgotten the next line, Phil; what is it?"
And Phil replied,—
Jasper started; for like a voice from heaven the words fell on his ear. The boys finished the hymn, and then, seeing that their old friend was not inclined to talk, they quietly wished him "good-night," and crept away into the cold dark night, leaving Jasper alone.
They were a little bit puzzled over him; he was so quiet, and not like himself, as Rob said. But could they have seen him after he had closed the door upon them (and bolted it, to prevent intruders), they would have been still more astonished; for there he was upon his knees, his eyes filled with tears, and his hands clasped in prayer.
"O God," he whispered, "I think I can understand it now. Thou didst send Thy Son to be a Saviour, and I'm the sinner that Jesus came to save. Oh, I am a sinner, and a big sinner too; but I can't be too bad for Jesus. Save me now, Lord; wash me in the blood of Jesus now, to-day!"
He paused, and then added softly,—
"Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, dying for me. Seeking for me. I do thank Thee, Lord Jesus! I do thank Thee, Lord; it's all right now!" And rising from his knees, the old man sat once more in his chair, lost in happy thought.
Christmas. Yes, the best he had ever known; for to him, as to the shepherds of old, had come a message from heaven—sung, not by angels, perhaps, but by children, sent of God, as truly as was that angelic band in Bethlehem's fields. And the result had been the same; for Jasper, like the shepherds, went and found the Christ, and knew that God's Christmas gift to him had been "a Saviour."
A VERY unexpected message had come to the Mellors on the day following Christmas Day. Unfavourable symptoms had shown themselves in Stephen Mellor, and indicated internal injuries hitherto unsuspected, and the doctor could not say how things might turn. Anyhow, he was very ill, and they had better go up.
He was indeed very ill, and Phil and his mother (Rob was too frightened to go) were simply amazed to see the change that had come over him since their previous visit, three days before.
"He talks so queerly," Phil whispered, as they stood at his bedside.
"Yes," said the nurse, "he's been light-headed all the day, and that's a bad sign, you know, to come on now, a week after the accident. It's certain he's more injured than we thought for. Of course he's been very drowsy ever since he was brought here, and that looks like mischief to the brain. But there, we're doing all we can, and maybe he'll take a turn for the better. Only the doctor thought you ought to know."
But the "turn for the better" did not come, and after two or three days of only semi-consciousness, alarming symptoms set in, and before wife or children could obey the hasty call to go to him, Stephen Mellor had passed into eternity.
Oh, the waking on the other side! oh, the afterward of death! God only knows the anguish of a soul that has died without hope, without Christ! Earthly justice he had eluded; earthly punishment he had escaped; but when God's summons came, and the message went forth, "Thy soul shall be required of thee," there was no possible delay, and without the consciousness or power to cry for mercy, the spirit of Stephen Mellor passed into the presence of the God who made it. Only a fortnight before he had heard a message of mercy—that God's thoughts toward him were thoughts of peace, that for such a life as his there was forgiveness, through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ; and truly, as he left the Mission Hall that Sunday night, he knew that God Himself was pleading. But he refused the offered mercy, he turned away from the outstretched hand, and now the day of grace was past, time was over, eternity had begun.
Thus ended a life that had commenced with bright possibilities, when Stephen Mellor was clerk in a Manchester warehouse, with a good salary and a comfortable home. But, not content with his honest earnings, he was induced by bad companions to try his luck at gambling, and this seemed such an easy way of making money, until the losses began to exceed the gains. Then came dishonesty, and Mellor's employer was robbed to pay the "debts of honour," as he called them, by way of satisfying his conscience. Forgery followed; the discovery of which necessitated a hasty and secret flight. And so, pursued by justice, haunted by bitter memories, covered with disgrace, disowned by relatives, and surrounded by poverty and shame, for seven years the man had wandered, barely avoiding detection, and living he hardly knew how; thus bringing, not only on himself, but on his wife and innocent boys, dreadful wretchedness and destitution.
But all was over now, and it was with almost a sense of relief that his wife turned away from the Infirmary and went back to Preece's Place. No more fear of detection, no more need to support her husband's falsehoods by her own—and her cheek burned with shame as she thought of the life of deceit that for his sake she had lived. No more angry threats or blows, no more cruelty to the boys. All was ended now, and for the future, she, with Phil and Rob, might know far more of peace and happiness than for long years before.
But to Phil the thought of his father's death was very terrible; for though there was no grief at his loss (how could there be?) there was an awful fear that death had found him wholly unprepared for the great change. Nay, something more than a fear; a sad certainty, as it seemed, for the last days were days of unconsciousness, and how could he pray then? There was only one ray of comfort; he and Rob had been praying for him, and perhaps God had heard and answered their prayers. But they could not even do that now, and it seemed so strange the first night after the father's death, when he and Rob knelt (as always) to say their evening prayers, not to pray for him.
Rob, through force of habit, was just beginning to do so, when Phil stopped him.
"It's no use now, Rob, to pray for father! You see he's dead;" and the lad hesitated, as if hardly knowing what more to say. A kind of shudder passed through him as he recalled the cold, lifeless form which lay in the silence of death up at the Infirmary.
"Where do you think father is now, Phil?"
The words came very softly and tremblingly from Rob, who could hardly realize as yet that the father whom he had always feared was gone for ever.
"I don't know, Rob; it's very dreadful, but—but—I don't see how he can be in heaven, because there's nobody there who hasn't been washed in the blood of Jesus, and who doesn't love Him; and I'm afraid father didn't do that!"
Rob trembled. "Oh, Phil, I'd rather he was back here, even if he did thrash us, wouldn't you? It's so dreadful to think that if he isn't in heaven he must be—" and the child stopped, as if afraid to utter the dreadful alternative, and clung closer to his brother.
"There, Rob, we won't talk any more about it. But I tell you what, we'll pray a great deal more for mother. I expect she'll be different now; for I'm sure father used to make her do lots of things she didn't want to, and we'll try to be very good and kind to her. Perhaps she will come up to the Mission Hall with us again, and hear all about Jesus. And, oh, Rob, if she learns to love Him too, shan't we all be happy here!"
A brighter prospect rose before the poor lad's eyes, a possibility of peace and love, ay, perhaps of comfort too; for wasn't he in work now? and their mother would be more free to do what she could. So, with bright anticipations and a firm confidence in a Heavenly Father's love and care, the boys lay down to forget in sleep their sorrows and their joys.
NEW YEAR'S DAY, and the fog which for nearly a week had hovered, more or less, over Helmstone had lifted, and bright sunshine came in its stead, as if to give promise of brighter days in store, during the new untrodden year. So at least it seemed to Phil as he started out fresh and early to go to his work. He was quite settled at Mr. Cross's now, and was giving every satisfaction.
"An uncommonly sharp boy; dependable too," was his master's opinion; "and if he sticks to me, I'll stick to him, and make a man of him before I've done."
The day before, when Phil had asked for some time "off," to go to his father's funeral, Mr. Cross had a talk with the lad, and learned more of his history then; for, now that Mellor was dead, Phil felt less afraid to talk about him. Before, there was always a dread lest anything he might say should lead to suspicion or possible detection; for he knew well enough that his father's life would not bear inspection. But now there was no fear.
On the last day of the old year he, with his mother and Rob, had stood by the open grave, and seen the body of Stephen Mellor laid in its last resting-place. A dreary time it had been, up there on that exposed bleak portion of the cemetery known as the paupers' ground, amid a drizzling rain and fog, to stand the only mourners, shivering and silent. Yet hardly sorrowful, as the husband and father was committed to the earth, there to await the resurrection morning.
Therefore Phil had talked more freely to Mr. Cross, and told him some of the difficulties and hardships of his young life, and at the same time, filled with hope, had spoken on the future he longed for, until his master almost smiled at the strange mixture of childish expectations and manly common-sense.
"And so you're going to keep the family now on your six shillings a week, are you?" he said, when Phil had finished.
"No, sir, not on that; but you see mother will do a little now, and after I leave here of an evening, I often pick up something carrying parcels; and then, before I come here of a morning, I earn twopence a day and my breakfast for cleaning boots and knives at a house near, where Mr. Armstrong spoke for me; and then you see, sir, God is bound to provide for us, because mother is a widow, and Rob and I are fatherless. I don't quite know how we are going to get all we want; but I'm sure that we shall. It's the clothes are the trouble; rent and food I can manage, and mother says I can get a deal more for my money than she can; only, you see, clothes cost such a lot. But I'm not afraid, and perhaps some day, sir, I shall be your shopman instead of your errand boy (for I mean to stay with you, Mr. Cross); and then when I'm dressed so respectably, you'll forget how shabby poor little Phil Mellor was."
Mr. Cross laughed; like every one else, he had been irresistibly attracted by the lad; his perfect genuineness and openness, together with his quaint sharpness, had won his employer's heart, and made him feel he would do all in his power to help on the boy who was so ready to help himself.
"See here, Phil; now that I've made up my mind to keep you, you shall have one of my caps;" and Mr. Cross produced a new shiny cap, with white letters around the crown, "Mr. Cross, News-agent." "Now, you see, you are marked as one of my boys, so you must take care how you behave yourself;" and putting the cap on his head with a good-natured pat, he told him to be off for the two or three hours he wanted to bury his father, but to return in time to fetch the evening papers by the five o'clock train.
After the funeral Phil returned to his work, and his mother went to the Infirmary to fetch her husband's clothes; and Rob, being left alone, stole round to his old friend, and found him as usual smoking his pipe over the stove.
"Ah, Rob, I was looking for you. Come in, child."
Slowly Rob advanced, and then stood silent, a most unusual thing with him.
"What's the matter, Rob, eh?"
"He's buried, Mr. Jasper."
"What? your poor father?"
"Yes; mother and Phil and I have just been to the cemetery; and it was so cold and dismal, I didn't like it. And Phil is gone back to work, and mother is out, and I've nobody to talk to, and I feel so queer. I don't like funerals, Mr. Jasper."
"I don't suppose any of us like them, Rob; but it's got to be, you see. We must all come to it."
"I wonder if you'll be buried near father, Mr. Jasper."
The old man started. "Bless the child! what's put that in your head?"
"Well, because there's a bit of ground quite close with no graves on it; and you're getting so old, I thought 'twould be your turn soon."
But Jasper made no answer; he was for the moment startled at the child's direct question, but also blessedly conscious of a new experience—that, for the first time, the thought of death brought with it no fear. The fact of dying, the physical pain, maybe, had never troubled him; it was the afterward of death that had been the dread. But now, ever since that Christmas evening, just a week before, he knew that his sin had been dealt with in the person of Jesus, and that through the precious blood there was perfect forgiveness for him, so he had nothing to fear; for was not he "the sinner whom Jesus came to save?"
"Well, Rob, I don't much care where they put my old body, because I think I'll be with Jesus."
Rob stared; he had never heard his old friend talk like that before, and he did not quite know what to make of it, or what to say.
Jasper continued, "Look here! what would you say if I was to go with you and Phil on Sunday night up to your Mission Hall?"
The child fairly jumped with delight. "Oh, Mr. Jasper, will you really? Do you mean it?"
"That I do, Rob. I'm ashamed of myself that I haven't been long ago; but you see I've only just found out that 'tis all for me. Wonderful! wonderful!"
As he said the words, his eyes fell on the text that had been almost the first ray of light in that dark shed.
"And look here, Rob, if your Mr. Armstrong is up there Sunday, I'd like to tell him that I know 'tis true God cares for me. I didn't believe it when you brought home the card; but—but I know it now. Bless His Name!" And as he spoke his eyes filled with tears of grateful joy.
"Oh, Mr. Jasper, how glad Phil will be that you're going on Sunday! That will be, not to-morrow, but the day after. And we've been praying ever so long that Jesus would make you come; and I'm oh so glad!" And off ran the happy child to tell the good news to Phil.
And so the first Sunday in the New Year saw Jonas Jasper for the first time in the Mission Hall, which had been nicely decorated for the Christmas feasts, with evergreens and texts suitable to the season all round the walls.
Immediately behind the speaker's desk there stood out (in large white letters on a crimson ground) the very-text that had been so blessed to Jasper: "Unto you is born this day a Saviour"; and as the old man's eyes, aided by his spectacles, fell upon the words, he started with pleasure, and turning to Phil he said, "I'm right glad they've put up that verse. Is it always there?"
"Oh no, Mr. Jasper; it's only put up for Christmas time. You see, 'tisn't painted on the wall; it's only paper letters stuck on paper. I expect 'twill be gone by next Sunday."
"I wonder now what they'll do with it when they take it down?"
"I don't know; but we'll ask Mr. Forbes after the meeting. Do you want to have it?"
Jasper made no answer, for just then the service began; but his thoughts for some time were with the text, how he would like to have it, to put up across the bottom wall of his old shed, so that it would be always before him. But he must hearken to what was going on now. The singing was beautiful, and no mistake; and then, after prayer and reading of the Scriptures came a short, earnest address, to which Jasper listened with the greatest attention.
"Now, friends, it's New Year's Sunday, a sort of special night, it seems to me; and so, instead of taking a regular text, I want to talk to you about two words, both of which you will find in the Bible many times. The words are 'Hitherto' and 'Henceforth.' Hitherto, that means all our past life up to this very minute, the years that are gone. Henceforth, that means all our future life from this minute, the days that, maybe, are yet to come, if God spares us. To-night we stand, as it were, just between the two—looking back and looking forward."
"Let us look back first. I am sure that every one here can say what Samuel said, 'Hitherto hath the Lord helped us;' or what Joseph's children said, 'The Lord hath blessed me hitherto.' Yes; every day and hour of your life God has helped and blessed you, or you wouldn't be here to-night. But what have you done hitherto? Your past life, do you like to think about it? Are you quite satisfied with it? Do you like God to think about it? Your life up to the moment you entered this hall, what has it been? What is it? Honestly, now, do you wish this New Year to be just what past ones have been? Aren't you ashamed when you look back on a life stained with sin and spent in forgetfulness of God? 'Ah,' you say, 'but I mean to be different now. I've turned over a new leaf. I've signed the pledge and joined a Bible-reading Union, and I mean to attend here regularly.' But, my friends, 'God requireth that which is past;' and before we can talk about a better 'henceforth' we must settle a bad 'hitherto.' In 2 Cor. v Paul writes about changed lives, about those who henceforth were going to live, not unto themselves, but unto God. But before he speaks of this, he tells of One who died for all; of One whose blood was shed to blot out the stains of the guilty 'hitherto.'"
"Has your past, with all its sin, been blotted out of God's sight in the precious blood of Jesus? He offers now to do it, if you will come to Him, not excusing yourself, but confessing your sin; for 'if we confess our sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin.' Then we can begin to talk about a better 'henceforth;' for when God forgives a man, He gives him a new heart, which is a new power to lead a new life; a life henceforth not unto themselves, not just seeking their own pleasure, but the pleasure and the glory of God."
"And so, when this question of the past is all settled, we can begin to look forward, and to say with David, 'The Lord is round about His people henceforth, even for ever.' After salvation comes safety; never alone any more when the devil comes along with temptation, or when sorrow or suffering are permitted to try us. Hitherto we've had to meet them alone; but henceforth God will be close at hand, As Jerusalem was sheltered all around by mountains, so every child of God shall be sheltered and protected by Him; and thus we can look forward to another year with its unknown path, and can say, 'I will trust, and not be afraid.'"
"But Paul looks farther ahead. When he was in prison, expecting almost every day to be led out to die, he wrote to Timothy, 'Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.' Ah, he was expecting a reward! Are you? He had a bright prospect; have you? If Jesus has saved you, are you working for Him? It may be some of you haven't much longer to stay here. Oh, set to work at once, and tell some poor sinner how Jesus has forgiven you, and is waiting to do the same for them. Won't you be ashamed to meet your Saviour if you have never done anything for Him since He saved you? If this has been so 'hitherto,' oh, let 'henceforth' find you working for Jesus."
"And then, when the last call has come—and it may come very soon—and your place here is empty, and we miss you, and look for you in vain, there will come a message from the other world about you, 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.' Yes, they rest in Jesus. Oh, blessed prospect! Is it yours? Should you to-night, if the call came, 'die in the Lord'? or should you be among those of whom Jesus said, 'Ye shall die in your sins'? Oh, friends, this evening God speaks to you in love. Bring your guilty 'hitherto,' your life that has been spent in sin, to the cross of Jesus now, and you shall know what it is to say,—"
"'Henceforth' my life here shall be for Jesus. 'Henceforth' my life there shall be with Jesus."
Tears were streaming down Jasper's cheeks as the speaker ceased; and while the closing hymn was sung the old man remained seated with his face buried in his hands. Not until the service had closed, and the people were beginning to move, did he raise his head.
Phil and Rob stood by, looking almost frightened, and quite glad to see Mr. Armstrong come up, and with a word of kindly welcome say, "I think this must be Mr. Jasper, that I've so often heard of from our young friends here."
Jonas looked up. "Yes, sir, that's my name," he said.
"I'm very glad to see you here on this New Year's Sunday."
"Ah, I wish I had come before; but you see 'tis only a week ago I found out that Jesus had died for me; and now I'm thinking I haven't long to stay here for certain, and I've never done anything for Him, and I'll be downright ashamed when I see Him."
"There's no reward for me; my past has been so bad. I reckon my 'henceforth' will be very short. Ah, 'tis a bad thing to be without Christ so long, and only to find Him just at the last! These boys here," and he looked lovingly at Phil and Rob, "they won't ever have to feel as I do now; for they have begun young to love Jesus; and if it hadn't been for them, sir, I'd never have thought about these things. 'Twas their talk and their hymns that told me about Jesus. And your card that you gave to Rob for me was the very beginning of it all;" and the old man laid his hand tenderly on Rob, who stood listening with wonder to all that Jasper was saying.
For a moment there was silence; and then Mr. Armstrong, who was touched indeed at the simple confession, said brightly, "Then I'm sure I can wish you a 'Happy New Year;' for it must be that, now that you have found Jesus to be your Saviour."
"Ah, but 'twas He found me, sir; He found me He came right into my old dark shed 'seeking for me,' as the boys sang on Christmas Day. Ah, it was wonderful, wonderful! And I've got nothing to give Him in return, nothing, nothing!"
Fast fell the tears from the old man's eyes.
"Well, but you can begin now to do something for Jesus. Tell your neighbours and your friends how the Lord has saved you, and that He will do the same for them; and perhaps through your words some soul will be led to seek Him too, and then there will be a reward for you. So rejoice in the Lord, my brother, and be glad." With these cheering words Mr. Armstrong bade him good-night, promising to pay him a visit before long. And then, between the boys who loved him so dearly, Jonas Jasper walked slowly home, after this his first visit to the Mission Hall; and that night, from the dreary attic in which Phil and Rob lay down to rest, there went up heartfelt praise to God as the two lads knelt to say their evening prayer; and Phil, in simple, touching words, thanked God for the answer given, because Mr. Jasper loved their Jesus too.
"And, O Lord, please to do the same for mother, because we want her to be different; and help Rob and I to tell her about Jesus, and to sing to her, like we did to him; and may she be washed white in the blood of Jesus; for Christ's sake. Amen."
And lying there, not asleep as her boys had thought, but wide awake, Mrs. Mellor heard Phil's prayer, heard the earnest pleadings that she too might be different, might be saved. The words went home to her heart. "Different? Yes, that was just what she wanted; but was it possible? So many years of sin, of forgetfulness of God! Could she ever be different now?"
And from her heart, so weary, so crushed, so hopeless, there went up an earnest "Amen" to Phil's prayer, inaudible indeed to any mortal ear but heard so quickly, so gladly by that loving Father who is always listening for a sinner's cry, and who said of her that night, as of Saul of old, "Behold, she prayeth."
TRUE to his promise, Phil asked Forbes to save the text that Jasper so desired to have; and when the Christmas decorations were taken down from the Hall, Forbes himself put aside the crimson banner that had hung over the platform, bearing its Christmas message, "Unto you is born this day a Saviour;" and the next evening, when "off duty," made his way up to Jasper's shed, carrying with him the words that had brought such joy to the old man's heart.
From Phil, Forbes had heard something of the story of Jasper's conversion, and so he was glad of an excuse to go up and rejoice with him in his new-found happiness. But on reaching the shed, and gaining admittance only after repeated knockings, he was surprised to find Jasper sitting with his face buried in his hands, and the tears falling from his eyes.
"Why, Jasper, what's the meaning of this? I thought to find you brimful of joy. What ails you, man?" and the constable laid a kindly hand on the old man's shoulder, as he repeated his inquiry.
For a moment there was no answer, and then, raising his head, Jasper said, "'Tis stupid of me to give way like this, but—but 'twill be the death of me."
"Death of you! What do you mean?"
"Why, don't you know? Haven't you heard that they're going to turn me out—out of my old place, where I've been for more than forty years? They might let it 'bide as 'tis a little while longer. I shall soon be gone, and then they can do as they like; but 'tis hard on an old man to pull his place down, and turn him out when he's close upon eighty. 'Alterations and improvements,' the man said who called here; and this old shed and all the block of buildings behind it are to be pulled down, and I've got to clear out at once, and it's almost too much for me! But there, I oughtn't to 'take on' so, because I know my Saviour will look after me. Only it came so sudden upon me, I can't get over it yet." And Jasper cast his eyes round the dingy old place that, in spite of all its discomforts and drawbacks, had become so dear to him, his home for forty years!
"Well, 'tis an upset, for certain! Of course I'd heard some talk of these new improvements; but I didn't know that 'twas really settled upon, and I am sorry for you to have to shift. Though I don't think 'twill be hard to find a better place, and then we'll soon get you moved in."
Jasper shook his head. "That's what you'll never do," he said. "My chattels can't be moved; they're like me, too old. Why, those barrels will fall to pieces if you shift 'em; and all my bits of things are too shaky to stand it. No, if I must go I must, but my things can't; and what's to become of me I don't know."
"But God does, my friend, and as your text up there says, 'He careth for you.'"
At these words Jasper brightened. "I've been forgetting," he said; "but it did seem hard not to fret. And the boys, they're nearly as much cut up as I am about it. You see we love the old place, and it's hard to go, it's hard to go; and all in a fortnight too."
"A fortnight! Ah, well, that will give us time to look about. And now, see, I've brought the text that you wanted from the Hall;" and unrolling his package, Forbes displayed the banner that Jasper had so desired.
"Ah!" he said, fixing his eyes on it, "tis beautiful every way, and I thought 'twould look so nice on my wall there, just where I could see it; but it's no use now to fix it up."
But Forbes thought differently. "We will fix it up all the same," he said. "'Twill cheer you up a bit to look at it, and I take it that the Lord is a Saviour not only from sin, but for times of trouble as well; and so He'll see you through this business too." So saying, he hung the banner up just opposite Jasper's chair, making it fast with two strong nails. Then sitting down, he drew from Jonas the story of that Christmas evening, when God's own message had come to his heart, through the boys to whom he had been such a friend.
"And to think I never found it before," he said, as he finished his recital.
"Ah, that's what we all say when we find out the joy of having the Lord Jesus, Jasper. But maybe He'll spare you a good while yet to tell others of His love."
Jasper shook his head. "No, no," he said; "I'm breaking up, as folk say. This cold weather has cut me very sharp, and I'm not the man I was, even three months ago. I did get up to the Hall last week, but I'd all my work to reach home again; you see, 'tis a tidy step from here to John Street. Rob terribly wanted me to go again Sunday, but my knees are so stiff with rheumatics I couldn't walk, so he stayed here and sang to me; and then Phil came in later and read to me, and told me what the preacher had been saying—about heaven, wasn't it? Ah, 'twill be beautiful to get there."
"Yes, Jasper; no shifting then. The Lord tells us we shall go no more out for ever, bless His name! But I must be off now."
"Wait half a minute, Forbes, will you? I want to speak to you about something;" and Jasper rose from his chair, and going over to the shelf, reached down the old pickle jar, that contained the savings of so many years. "There isn't so very much," he said; "but what little I have put by is here. I'd like to be buried respectably, and then, if there's anything over, why, it's for the boys, bless 'em. Only I wish you to have the handling of it, and perhaps you'd take care of it for me until I know what is to become of me."
So saying, he drew from the jar a dark canvas bag, and handed it to Forbes.
"There must be close on forty pounds, I think," he said; "but 'twill be safer with you than with me; and if I want any of it (and I do owe a trifle or two), you can just let me have it."
Forbes took the bag. "It shall be as you wish," he said; "but we'll count it first;" and untying the string, there rolled out a little stream of gold and silver, amounting altogether to £38 14s. 3d.
"Ah, I wasn't far wrong, you see; that will be something over for Rob, won't it? I think perhaps he'll want it more than Phil; but I leave all that to you. I know I can trust you, and I shall feel easier in my mind now that I've told you. Good-night, and thank you for your call."
When Forbes had gone, and Jasper was left alone he sat there over his fire, far on into the night, gazing ever and anon at the texts on his wall.
"It must be right," he said. "'He careth for you;' and it will be true of every day, and the Lord will help me through, as Forbes said."
So at last, wearied even with trying to think out his future plans, the old man feebly ascended the steps that led to his bedroom, and after an evening prayer, simple and heartfelt as a child's, he lay down, and forgot in sleep all that had been troubling him.
The next day Jonas was surprised by a visit from Rob's mother, who came in search of Rob. "He hasn't been home since he went to school this morning," she said, "and I made sure he'd be here with you, Mr. Jasper; so I looked in to see. But he doesn't seem to be here."
"Not just now, ma'am; but 'tisn't long ago he left. He had a bit of dinner with me, and then he started off, bless his heart! to find a place for me to move into when they turn me out of here. I believe he has walked half over Helmstone at this job. He was at it yesterday, and Phil too, in his spare time; they've taken it on themselves to find out every shed there is, so that I might be fixed up again; but they won't do it, they won't do it;" and Jasper sat down and relapsed into silence.
Mrs. Mellor stood, hardly knowing what to say. Of course she had heard from the boys of Jasper's upset, and was sorry indeed for the old man; so presently she ventured to say as much. "And I'm sure Phil and Rob take it to heart dreadful. I don't know what they'd do without you, Mr. Jasper."
Jonas turned and looked at his visitor. "I don't know what I should do without them," he said. "They're wonderful children, those boys of yours; and if it hadn't been for them, I'd never have known the Saviour came seeking for me. Ah! you don't know what messages the Lord has sent me through them; and when I get to heaven and see the dear Lord for myself, I'll just thank Him that ever He sent them in my way, and I'll ask Him to bless them always. I wonder now if they talk to you as they do to me?"
Mrs. Mellor shook her head, and a tear ran down her cheeks. "They were afraid, poor dears, to say much before their father; he would swear at them so, though Phil often tried to read some of his Bible out loud; but since my husband died they have sung some of their hymns and read to me; only somehow it doesn't seem to have much meaning. It's all real enough to them, and I only wish I was like them, for they are good boys, and no mistake."
"Ah, Mrs. Mellor, you haven't got so many years of sin to look back upon as I have; but the Lord has saved and forgiven me, and He'll do the same for you. Look there!" and Jasper pointed to the Christmas banner; that was the text that made it all plain to me. "'Unto you,' that's me; 'this day,' that's now; 'is born a Saviour,' that's just what I want; and it's for you too, Mrs. Mellor; and you ask the boys to sing to you the hymns they sang to me on Christmas night, and I'm sure He will do as much for you as He did for such a black sinner as me."
Just then Rob arrived, full of excitement because he had seen "the very place that would do for Mr. Jasper." 'Twas much nicer than this, and he must go in the morning and see it, and 'twas quite near the Mission Hall, and would be lovely. And so he rattled on, trying to inspire his old friend with his own eager expectancy.
But after Rob and his mother had gone, and Jasper was alone once more, with his doors closed and the lamp alight, he shook his head and said half aloud, "No, Rob, no; I'm too old to move. I don't know, I'm sure, but 'twill all come right somehow." And then reaching down his Bible, he opened it at its last page, and for a long time sat reading about heaven. "And it's all for me; all ready for me," he whispered. "Lord Jesus, I thank Thee that I'm ready too, washed and white."
THE next morning dawned bright and beautiful, and even Preece's Place looked cheerful in the January sunshine, that was trying in vain to find its way into Jasper's old shed; for the doors were closely shut, so that only one tiny ray could penetrate through a crack.
Rob, who paid an early visit to his old friend, that he might take him to see the new quarters, was astonished to find the place still closed, and after repeated knockings (all of which were in vain) he turned away, thinking that Jasper must have gone by himself to see the shed in John Street, and would soon be back.
But two hours later Forbes, coming up to bring a receipt for the money entrusted to him, found the doors still shut, and seeing that they were fastened from the inside, he began to feel uneasy; so at last, after knocking and calling in vain, he forced the door, and then going in, he found the old man sitting indeed in his chair, his Bible open on his knees at Rev. xxii, his eyes fixed upon the Christmas text—but the spirit had fled! Whilst he sat reading about heaven, messengers from heaven had come at the bidding of the King, and away from the dreary, dismal shed had they borne him to the land that knows no change, no night, no sorrow; and as the constable stood gazing at the lifeless form, the soul of Jonas Jasper was in the presence of Jesus Himself, and his eyes were seeing "the King in His beauty."
Laying his hand on the pulse that had ceased to beat, Forbes stood for a moment awestruck, and then, though in no doubt as to what happened, he ran quickly for a doctor, and finding one just outside, he brought him in. But one glance at the rigid features was enough, and in few words the surgeon confirmed Forbes' opinion.
"Of course this must be inquired into," he said; "but there is every appearance of a most quiet, peaceful, sudden death—old age its probable cause. I will attend and do all that is necessary when required;" and away he walked, leaving Forbes alone in the presence of the dead.
Lifting his eyes for a moment, they fell on Rob's text, "He careth for you," which only two days before he had repeated to the old man. "And it's true," he said softly. "The Lord knew he couldn't stand the upset of a move, and He cared so much for him that He's taken him right away out of it all, to rest for ever with Himself."
No sooner had Forbes lodged the necessary information at the Police Station, than the news of Jasper's sudden death soon spread through Preece's Place and its neighbourhood. On inquiry it was found that no one had entered the shed after Mrs. Mellor and Rob left on the previous evening; and so Jasper's last words on earth had been of Jesus, as he pointed a weary sinner to the Saviour whom he had found.
It was no easy matter to break the news to Rob; but it fell to Forbes to do it, as he met the child just outside the shed, coming home from school, to go in and see his old friend.
"You can't go in, Rob; Jasper isn't there."
"Hasn't he come back yet, Mr. Forbes?"
"No."
"Then I'm sure he won't be much longer, and I can go in and wait till he comes."
Forbes laid his hand on Rob's head. "You'll have to wait a long, long time, Rob; for he'll never come back any more. The Lord Jesus has sent for him to-night, and he has left the old shed and gone right away up to heaven."
For a moment the child stared, as if hardly comprehending the policeman's words, and then all of a sudden he seemed to take in the meaning. "Is my Mr. Jasper dead? Do you mean that?"
"Yes, my boy; he's with Jesus now."
In an instant Rob crouched down against the door, and bursting into a passionate flood of tears, sobbed as though his heart would break; and indeed, if such a thing were possible to a child, Rob was very near it then. In vain Forbes tried to coax him away, and finding all effort useless, he took him up in his strong arms and carried him, still sobbing and shivering, home to his wife.
"Let him stay here a bit until I can send Phil round to him," he said, telling her what had happened. "Poor little chap, it's a sad blow for him!"
So for some time he lay in Mrs. Forbes' kind, motherly arms, asking between his sobs, in piteous voice, if it was really true that his Mr. Jasper was gone! But as she talked to him about heaven, and its glories and joys, and told him that his old friend was so happy there, and would be looking out for him to come too, the child was calmed, and by-and-by, worn out with weeping, fell into a sweet sleep, and ere he woke Phil had come to fetch him.
After all, he was the best comforter; and so, sadly and wearily the brothers made their way back to Preece's Place, their hearts full of sorrow at the unexpected loss of their old friend. And when, on the way home, they passed the shed, all closed and silent, Rob shuddered afresh, and creeping closer to Phil, burst again into tears.
"Shan't we ever go in there any more, Phil?"
"I expect not, Rob; you see 'twill be pulled down soon, and you know it is very nice for Mr. Jasper not to have to turn out, and I expect Jesus knew how 'twas troubling him, and so He took him right away, and we must be very glad for him, Rob."
But Rob could find no comfort anywhere, and poor Mrs. Mellor was sorely perplexed to know what to do with her tearful boys; but by-and-by she reminded them of what Jasper had said only the night before—that they must read to her, and sing to her, as they had done to him.
So Phil got out his Bible and read, and Rob tried to listen; but ere long, wearied with his sorrow, he fell asleep, and so forgot for a while the grief that had filled his heart. But Phil sat up talking to his mother; the sudden death of the old man had touched her not a little.
"To think that this time last night I was talking to him," she said, "and now he's dead. It's enough to make one shiver, when you see how soon anybody may be gone."
And so Phil, in his simple way, told her all he knew of God's plan of salvation. "And if we come to Jesus, mother, and ask Him to forgive us, He will, and He'll wash away all our sins, and then, if our sins are all gone, we needn't be afraid to die."
"And how do you know that your sins are all gone, Phil?"
"Why, mother, because I asked Jesus to take them away, and He promised to do it for every one who asks; and I'm sure He keeps His promises."
And when Phil had fallen asleep his mother lay awake, restlessly tossing to and fro, recalling what her boy had said. There rose before her the memory of a life-time's sin. Could all that be forgiven at once? Nay, surely not. She must make herself a little better before she could expect God to help her. But (and a shudder passed through her) perhaps while she was trying to make herself better the call might come to her, as it had to Jasper, and find her not ready. So, haunted by fear, and yet inspired by hope, she lay thinking, thinking, thinking, quite unconscious that the Saviour Himself was standing by her side, unseen, indeed, but none the less really there, waiting to take the burden of a life's sins away. She was very near the kingdom, for she had seen herself a sinner, and er long would come the message to her troubled heart, "Daughter, be of good cheer. Thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven."
FOR more than six weeks old Jasper had been lying at rest up on a sunny slope in the Helmstone Cemetery; and in the meantime his shed was pulled down, and men busily at work were digging out the foundations for a new and improved block of buildings, to stretch right away from Preece's Place to the adjoining street beyond. Forbes, acting on the instructions given him by Jasper, had arranged everything; and after paying two or three little debts and all funeral expenses, found a nice balance of nearly £30 in hand for the boys. Consulting with Mr. Armstrong, he decided to put it by for the present in the Post Office Savings Bank, after buying a little clothing for the lads—an absolute necessity, for Rob's feet were almost through to the ground, and his trousers persistently refused to hang together any longer.
Of course any pressing needs must be met, for such surely would have been Jasper's wish; but it would be nice to have a little money in hand, to give the lads a start one day. Though indeed Phil seemed to have made his start at Mr. Cross's, and was already raised a shilling per week. Mrs. Mellor, too, had obtained two or three days' regular work every week, so that altogether their prospect was brightening.
Time, the great healer, had already done wonders in soothing the sorrow caused by Jasper's death, and Rob would stand watching with keen interest all that was going on in the new building, forgetting for the time the happy memories of the past associated with the spot. But when he went to the cemetery, the old grief would wake up again; and many a time had he been found lying on Jasper's grave, and sobbing as though his little heart would break. But this was only sometimes; and when at day or Sunday School he was the same bright, happy lad as before.
To him and Phil had come one great joy. Ever since Jasper's death their mother had gone with them every Sunday evening to their much-loved Mission Hall; she was getting quite known there now, and some of the folk had been to see her.
But one day who should come but Mr. Armstrong himself! Neither Phil nor Rob was at home—much to their grief, when they heard he had been; but it was Mrs. Mellor he wanted, and after a few words of kindly inquiry he made known the purport of his visit.
"Mrs. Forbes is finding the work up at the Hall too much," he said. "It's a large place altogether to keep clean, and it is so much used that it needs constant scrubbing; so I came to see if you could give her regular help, I mean in the way of the cleaning. Of course you wouldn't be wanted every day; but I daresay altogether it might come to nearly three days a week. At all events, I can offer you seven shillings a week to do what is required in the time that will suit you best."
Mrs. Mellor was delighted. "It's the very thing I want," she said; "and I'll be only too thankful to do it; and then I think, perhaps, I might move into a better place than this, and get things a little bit more comfortable round me for my boys; for I was never used to being like this."
"I thought as much," said Mr. Armstrong; and then gently and kindly he drew from her the story of her life, and the burden of its sin, that now lay so heavily upon her. "It is a burden," he said, when she had finished; "but one that you needn't bear another moment, for Jesus offers to take it from you now."
"That's what Phil says," she replied; "but I don't seem to see how."
"Look here, my friend," and taking from his pocket a Bible, Mr. Armstrong opened it at Isaiah liii. 6, and read, "'All we like sheep have gone astray.' Is that true of you?"
"Yes, indeed, sir."
"'We have turned every one to his own way;' and is that true too?"
"Ah, that it is, and no mistake."
"Very well, then you admit so far that God's Word is true. You don't doubt it?"
"No, sir; it's perfectly true."
"Now then, listen to the end of the same verse: 'and the Lord hath laid on Him (Jesus) the iniquity of us all.' Now is that true also, or must we cut the verse in two, and take only the first part of it for ourselves?"
The woman paused.
"God laid upon Jesus the burden of your sin—its guilt, its punishment—and Jesus accepted it, and undertook to be responsible for it all; so can't you trust it to Him? For, you see, a burden can't be in two places at once, and if God has put it upon Jesus, He has taken it away from you, and now, at this moment, He tells you that by His blood He has paid the debt of your sin, and lifted from you its burden. Will you believe Him or not? See for yourself what He says;" and putting his finger on the verse, he pointed her to it.
For a moment she sat, as if hardly able to take it in, and then lifting her eyes, which were filled with tears, to Mr. Armstrong, she said tremblingly, "Yes, sir, if any of it is true, it is all true. I see it now. I am still a sinner, but Jesus has had to suffer for it instead of me!"
And so a twofold joy came into the dreary attic that day, and the burden of sin and the burden of poverty were alike lifted from Mrs. Mellor's life.
A few days more, and she with the boys had moved into small but clean rooms, not far from the Mission Hall. Friends had provided some additional furniture, and so amid brighter surroundings the winter passed away, and spring filled the earth with gladness—a gladness that found its way into the Mellors' home, and stayed there too. For it was God Himself who put the gladness into their hearts—a joy that no man could take from them—even His own presence and peace.
And so the years rolled on, and Phil's dream of being Mr. Cross's shopman was realized. Step by step he rose, until by-and-by he stood second only to the "master" himself; and folk did say that as Mr. Cross had no son, there was no knowing but what Phil might have the business one day.
Rob, whilst at school, showed such an ability for learning that his master wanted him to go in for teaching and be his pupil teacher. And it was then old Jasper's money came so handy to pay for books and fees; and when the years of training and study were over, Rob obtained an excellent appointment at a school only a few miles from Helmstone, so that he could come over for his Sundays in the comfortable home which he and Phil together kept for their mother; and could still attend the much-loved Mission Hall, where he and his brother were teachers now, instead of scholars, trying to tell others that old, old story which had been such a power in their own lives.
Jasper's memory was still sweet and sacred to both, and his grave (marked now by a tombstone which they had erected) often attracted their steps thither; for now in happy prosperity they could never forget the days of their childhood, when, amid so much that was hard and dreary, they always found the sunshine of love and sympathy in Jasper's old shed.
THE END.
Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.