Chapter X: "For ever and ever."

AGAIN nearly ten years have passed, and for the last time we revisit E—, now a thriving, populous town. Where is the little shop with its wooden gate, where Viner so long passed his humble but useful life, and bore the yoke of poverty so meekly? We now look in vain for the spot where it stood—like other earthly things, it has passed away, another building now occupies what was once its site, its place remembers it no more.

But the large shop on the opposite side of the street is standing yet, and looks more flourishing than ever, with its baskets of ripe plums and tempting peaches, decked out with branches of cut flowers in the windows. A young woman is within, engaged in tying up nosegays, herself fresh and blooming as the flowers. Her own little blossom, her first-born child, is perched upon the counter beside her; and often the mother stops in her pleasant employment to imprint a fond kiss on his dimpled cheek, or bid her little one try to call "Father!"

"Ah! Darling, you must not spoil the pretty flowers," she said playfully, as the child seized upon a rose. "Do you not know that this is mother's wedding-day, and when father comes in, he must find everything looking bright and beautiful for him! I must give you over to grandfather's care—if he will look after my troublesome pet! There, is he not a darling—are you not proud of him!" cried Nelly, as she placed her blooming boy in the arms of Viner.

Mrs. Winter at this moment entered the shop. She had grown old, and now wore widow's weeds, but her face was still placid and cheerful as before.

"I have brought you the cake, Nelly," said she, laying an elegant sugared pyramid before her. "Is it not fit for a wedding-day feast? Do you remember just this day twenty years ago, when you were no higher than this counter, your coming to my shop to buy half-a-dozen biscuits as a treat for your expected new brother? Ah! He is more to you now than he was then!"

"How can I remember so far back!" laughed Nelly.

"It seems to me as though it were scarce a day since! There stood Goldie—poor man! Who once owned this shop—a prosperous man he was then! He laughed, I remember, at your childish honesty, laughed at your father's kind adoption of Walter—he thought only of getting on in the world! And what has it all come to at last! There is now another name above his door, there is another face behind his counter—he lies in the churchyard beside his poor wife, and his very name is almost forgotten! And this is the end of his labours and his cares, his rising up early and late taking rest—his flattering, and toiling, and unscrupulous ways! All that is left to him now of his gains is a coffin, and a shroud, and a few feet of earth!"

"Alas! Poor Goldie," said Nelly sadly, "He was unfortunate!"

"Unhappy, if you will, but not unfortunate; fortune had nothing to do with either his lot or your father's. Worldliness, Sabbath-breaking, neglect of religion only brought forth their natural fruits to Goldie—while all Viner's present happiness and prosperity arose from—"

The old man turned towards her with glistening eyes, pressing his little grandchild closer to his heart, while he closed her sentence with Nelly's favourite text—"'The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and He addeth no sorrow thereto.'"

Walter now entered with a springing step and bright eye. His child stretched out his little arms to go to him, and Nelly greeted her husband with a smile.

"You see that I have not forgotten what day it is," he said, laying down on the counter a beautifully carved box, with his wife's name cut on the lid. "That is my wedding present for you, dear Nelly; as it has pleased God to prosper us so well in business, and between my carving and your fruit selling, we now have enough and to spare, I have resolved to keep a poor box from this time, and on the first day of the week, as St. Paul recommends, lay aside of our earnings for the needy."

"Well, Viner," observed Mrs. Winter, as she was leaving the place, and turned to bid farewell to the aged Christian, on whose silvery hair and venerable brow the rich glow of the setting sun was falling, "if I were asked to name a truly happy man, I should not have far to look for one—I should point to you in your arm-chair there, with your loving family around you."

Yes, the bright calm sunset was a beautiful type of the old age of the pious Christian! He looked back on an honest, well-spent life, he looked forwards to a better life to come; the present was full of richest blessings, but the richest of all was the hope of heaven that brightened the thoughts of the future! His adopted son was now his son indeed; his daughter was happy in the love of one whom he himself had trained to industry and piety; and now, honoured and beloved, he was drawing towards his home, at peace with his God, and at peace with mankind—his hoary head a crown of righteousness!

But think not that upon his faith or his good works Viner rested his hope of glory! He would have shrunk from the thought as much as the poor convict who now slumbered beneath the shadow of the church, with a single text inscribed on his tomb—"The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin!"

And now, young reader, before you close these pages, pause and consider what was the difference between Viner and Goldie, between the man of the world and the servant of God. As Mrs. Winter had observed, it was no strange chance, no wonderful turn of fortune, that gave happiness to the one or misery to the other. Review their story, and you will see that exactly as they sowed, they reaped—that the portion which each chose, he received—that blessings naturally sprang from the conduct of the one, disappointment from the acts of the other.

And oh! If even in this world, God's children are the happiest, what will it be in the world which is to come! On this earth our harvest is only begun, whether of holy joy or the sorrows of sin. But when ages upon ages have rolled on, when the heavens and the earth have passed away, then still the unrepenting will be suffering, the faithful enjoying in eternity!

From this hour resolve which path you will choose—life or death are now set before you. If you choose the world and its pleasures of a season, oh! Remember that the wages of sin is death. Youth must pass, strength must pass, life itself must pass away, with all that it could give here below; but the Christian shall dwell in the mansions of light—shall rejoice in unchangeable bliss with his God—

"FOR EVER AND EVER. AMEN!"

Our Father in heaven,
We hallow Thy name,
May Thy kingdom holy
On earth be the same;
Oh! Give to us daily
Our portion of bread;
It is from Thy bounty
That all must be fed.

Forgive our transgression,
And teach us to know
That humble compassion
Which pardons each foe.
Keep us from temptation,
From weakness, and sin;
And Thine be the glory,
For ever, Amen.