"HOME, SWEET HOME, AT LAST."
It was Sunday evening, and Christie was once more in the little
mission-room; but not now as a poor ragged boy, sitting on the front
bench, and in danger of being turned out by the woman who lighted the
gas-lamps. She would not dream of turning Christie out now, for the
young Scripture-reader was a well-known man in the district. He was
always there early, before any of the people arrived, and he used to
stand at the door and welcome each one as they came in, helping the old
men and women to their seats, and looking out anxiously for those whom
he had invited for the first time during the week. And if any little
ragged boys stole in, and seemed inclined to listen, Christie took
special care of them, for he had not forgotten the day when he had first
come to that very room, longing to hear a word of comfort to tell to his
old master.
Mr. Wilton was to take the service to-night, and Christie had been busy
all the afternoon giving special invitations to the people to be
present, for he wanted them very much to hear his dear friend.
The mission-room was quite full when Mr. Wilton entered it. How it
rejoiced him to see Christie going about amongst the people, with a kind
word for each, and handing them the small hymn-books from which they
were to sing!
"Come, for all things are now ready." That was Mr. Wilton's text. How
still the mission-room was, and how earnestly all the people listened to
the sermon! The clergyman first spoke of the marriage feast in the
parable, so carefully spread, so kindly prepared, all ready there,--and
yet no one would come! There were excuses on all sides, every one was
too busy or too idle to attend to the invitation; no one was ready to
obey that gracious "Come."
And then Mr. Wilton spoke of Jesus, and how he had made all things ready
for us; and how pardon is ready and peace is ready; the Father's arms
ready to receive us; the Father's love ready to welcome us; a home in
heaven ready prepared for us. That, he said, was God's part of the
matter.
"And what, my dear friends," he went on, "is _our_ part? _Come_; 'come,
for all things are now ready.' Come, you have only to come and take; you
have only to receive this love. Come, sin-stained soul; come, weary one;
'come, for all things are now ready.' _Now_ ready. There is a great deal
in that word '_now_.' It means to-night,--this very Sunday; not next
year, or next week; not to-morrow, but now,--all things are _now_ ready.
God has done all He can, He can do no more, and He says to you, 'Come!'
Will you not come? Are God's good things not worth having? Would you not
like to lie down to sleep, feeling that you were forgiven? Would you not
like one day to sit down to the marriage supper of the Lamb?
"Oh, what a day that will be!" said Mr. Wilton, as he ended his sermon.
"St. John caught a glimpse of its glory amidst the wonderful sights he
was permitted to see. And so important was it, so good, so specially
beautiful, that the angel seems to have stopped him, that St. John might
write it down at once: Wait a minute, don't go any farther, take out
your book and make a note of that,--'Write, Blessed are they which are
called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.'
"Are _you_ one of those blessed ones?" asked the clergyman. "Are you
washed in the blood of the Lamb? Will you sit down to that supper? Have
you a right to enter into 'Home, sweet Home?' I know not what is your
answer to these questions. But if you cannot answer me now, how will you
in that day answer the Great Searcher of hearts?"
And with this question the sermon ended, and the congregation left;
those of them who had known Mr. Wilton still lingering behind, to shake
hands with him, and to get a parting word of counsel or comfort.
Christie walked home by the clergyman's side.
"And now, Christie," said Mr. Wilton, "do you think you can be ready to
start with me to-morrow morning at eight o'clock?"
"To start with you, sir?" repeated Christie.
"Yes, Christie; you have had hard work lately, and I have asked leave
from Mr. Villiers to take you home with me, that you may have a little
country air and quiet rest. I am sure it will not be lost time,
Christie; you will have time for quiet reading and prayer, and you will
be able to gain strength and freshness for future work. Well, do you
think you can be ready in time?"
Christie thought there was no fear of his being late. He thanked Mr.
Wilton with a voice full of feeling, for he had sometimes longed very
much for a little pause in his busy life.
And the next day found Christie and Mr. Wilton rapidly traveling towards
the quiet country village in which Mr. Wilton's church was to be found.
What was the result of that visit may be gathered from the following
extract, taken from a letter written by Christie to Mr. Wilton some
months later:--
"I promised you that I would let you know about our little home. It is,
I think, one of the happiest to be found in this world. I shall always
bless God that I came to your village, and met my dear little wife.
"At last I have a 'Home, sweet Home,' of my own. We are so happy
together! When I come home from my work, I always see her watching for
me, and she has every thing ready for me, and the evenings we spend
together are very quiet and peaceful. Nellie likes to hear about all my
visits during the day, and the poor people are already so fond of her
they come to her in all their troubles. And we find it such a comfort to
be able to pray together for those in whom we are interested, and
together to take them to the Saviour.
"Our little home is so bright and cheerful! I wish you could have seen
it on the evening on which we arrived. Mrs. Villiers had made all ready
for us, and with her own hand had put on the tea-table a lovely bunch of
snowdrops and dark myrtle leaves. And I need not tell you that they
reminded me of those which she had given me when she was little Miss
Mabel, and when she taught me that prayer which I have never forgotten,
'Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.'
"And now, dear Mr. Wilton, you may think of Nellie and me as living
together in love and happiness in the dear little earthly home, yet
still looking forward to the eternal home above, our true, our best, our
brightest 'HOME, SWEET HOME.'"
[Illustration: HOME, SWEET HOME]