Chapter IX: Jasper's Promise

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.'"

"Have you been to Jesus for the cleansing power?
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?"

"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,—"

"The cross now covers my sins;
The past is under the blood."

"'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."