Chapter V: The Happy Island

ONE fine Sabbath afternoon about three weeks after the day of the storm, Mabel Tracy, on entering Widow Lawrence's cottage, found Nelly in her old place by the window, and Katie sitting in her mother's large arm-chair. Mrs. Lawrence had gone to church, and taken little Esther and her brothers with her; and Katie and Nelly were anxiously expecting Miss Mabel's visit. Mabel had been several times to see Katie during her illness, and had brought her each time some little dainty to tempt her appetite.

"I am glad to see you downstairs again, Katie," said Mabel, in her pleasant, cheerful voice, as she entered. "I am a little later than usual to-day."

"We were so afraid you were not coming," said Nelly.

"I have been round to see poor old Granny Hale; she has kept her bed since Thursday, and the doctor seems to think her very ill. I never like to disappoint her, for it is not as if she could see to read. The time must pass very lonely with her sometimes, and yet she generally seems cheerful. Besides which, I was the bearer of very good news to her."

"Mother told us this morning that Granny Hale's son was coming home from across the sea," said Katie.

"Yes; that is what I was going to tell you. She has had a letter from him to-day. It is many, many years since she heard of him before. Papa says he was a sad wild lad, and ran away to sea, and nearly broke his poor mother's heart. However, as she says, she still prayed for him, in humble faith on His promise who had said, 'Ask, and it shall be given you;' and firmly believed that in His own good time God would answer her prayer. And He has done so."

"Do you think it is right to pray to God about trifles, Miss Mabel?" asked Katie.

"Papa was talking to me on that very subject this morning," answered Mabel: "he said we ought to learn to ask God's blessing on little things as well as great; and that there is nothing which is right for us to do, but it is also right to ask that God would bless it. For there is nothing so little but the frown of God can change it into the greatest calamity, or His smile raise it into a memorable mercy.

"There was once a very good man named Bishop Heber, and when his famous poem, 'Palestine,' had gained the prize, and had been read before all the learned men at Oxford, the assembly broke up. But the successful scholar could nowhere be found, till at length some one discovered him in his study, on his knees, thanking God who had given him the power to write that poem, and who had spared his beloved parents to witness and share his joy."

"Please, Miss Mabel, will you tell us that story you promised me a long while ago?"

"I am glad you reminded me of it, Nelly, for I had quite forgotten it."

"I am glad you did forgot it," said Katie, "for now I shall be able to hear it too."

Katie Lawrence was indeed greatly changed. Before her illness she had never cared about being in the room when Mabel called to see her sister; indeed, she usually, if at home, found some excuse for being absent. But it was quite different now; and the humble, teachable girl was only too happy to listen to words of holy truth that fell from the lips of gentle Mabel Tracy.

"I will try and tell it you as simply as I can," said Mabel, "in order that you may understand it all. Papa read it to me out of a book."

"Once upon a time there were some people who lived in a happy island; but they behaved very badly there, and the king of the island banished them. The place to which they were exiled was a barren and cheerless coast, and it lay within distant sight of their former happy home, which they had lost by their misdeeds.

"Soon after they had been expelled from the island, a message had come to them from their sovereign, offering a pardon to all that would seek it. Strange to say, few minded it. They had grown quite hardened, and they tried to persuade themselves that the mud huts in which they lived were more comfortable than the mansions in the happy land, and that the wild berries on the bleak shore of their new home were preferable to all the fine fruits of the island garden.

"There was one man, however, who thought differently. He was a very thoughtful person. Often and often you might have seen him pacing up and down the beach, when the golden rays of the setting sun shone full on the happy isle; and as from his own dreary prison, he saw the rich forests and purple mountains of his former dwelling, he sighed, and wished he was there.

"One morning, when he awoke, it struck him that the opposite shore appeared unusually near, and the tide seemed so low that he fancied he might easily swim across. And so he hastened forth; first over the dry shingle, then over the solid sand, then still on, until he reached the wet, soft strand, from whence the waves had but just receded. And then he was astonished at his own delusion; for there was still a mighty gulf before him, and even whilst he gazed, the tide was rising. Sad and disheartened, he returned backwards towards the dreary shore.

"A short time afterwards, he tried another plan. To the right of his dwelling the tall cliffs stretched far away in a succession of headlands, until the one farthest off seemed to touch the opposite side. To this distant spot he determined to make a visit, in the hope that it would lead him to the long-sought land.

"The road was in many places very steep, and for a long time the distant headland seemed no nearer than before. But at last, after much fatigue and toil, he succeeded in reaching it. With eager steps he ran along the ridge, half hoping that it was an isthmus, or neck of land, which would bear him to the blessed isle.

"But, alas! no. He had reached the most distant edge, and there was still the vast ocean dashing against the base of the cliff. Bitterly disappointed, and faint and weary with his useless toil, he flung himself on the ground and wept. But by-and-by, he noticed off the shore a little boat, with whose appearance he was quite familiar. It used to ride at anchor opposite his own abode, and had done so for a long time; but, like his neighbours, he had got so used to seeing it, that he took no notice of it.

"Now, however, seeing it there, he looked at it, and as he looked, it came nearer to him. At last it came close to the rocks on which he was seated. It was a beautiful little boat, with snow-white sail and golden prow, and a bright red cross was its waving flag. There was one on board—only one. His raiment was white and glistening, and his features showed whence he came.

"'Son of man,' he said, in a kind and gentle voice, 'why weepest thou?'

"'Because I cannot reach the blessed isle.'

"'Canst thou trust thyself with me?'

"The poor wanderer looked at the frail little boat leaping lightly on the waves, and he hesitated, till he looked again at the Pilot's kind countenance, and then he said, 'I can.'

"And no sooner had he stepped on board, than swift as a sunbeam, the boat bore him to the land of light. And with many a warm welcome from the Pilot's friends, he found himself among its happy inhabitants, clothed in the same bright raiment as they, and free to all their privileges as a subject of their king.

"That is the whole of the story," said Mabel, as she concluded; "and now can you tell me what it means?"

"Not quite," replied Katie; "I seem to know that there is some other meaning to it, but I cannot quite explain it."

"Is it not something like a parable?" asked Nelly.

"You are right, Nelly," said Mabel; "it is called an allegory, which means very much the same as a parable."

"And will you explain it to us, Miss Mabel?"

"I will give you dear papa's own words," said Mabel; "I did not understand all of it myself until he explained it to me. The happy isle is peace with God, and shows us the state in which man was while innocent. The dreary, barren shore to which they were exiled is the state of misery into which sinful man has fallen. The little boat shows the 'only' way by which a sinner can pass over from his misery into peace with God. It is not a way of any man's contriving, but is provided for sinners by God Himself. That way is the 'atonement,' and He who so kindly invites sinners to avail themselves of it is—"

"Our Saviour?" said Nelly.

"Just so, Nelly; and the poor man who tried to get to the happy island his own way is like one who tries to make a righteousness for himself. Papa says this is a mistake into which so many people fall. They determine to read so many chapters, and to pray so long every day; they determine henceforth never to be angry, or deceitful, or idle, and make up their minds to go on in this way until they are really good, and deserve to be forgiven.

"But how far must any one walk round the coast of Europe before he arrives in Britain? He might walk on for ever, and would be no nearer, because Britain is an island, and there is a great sea between it and Europe. Just so the sinner cannot, of himself, reach God. Instead of being good in order to be forgiven, we have need to be forgiven before we can begin to become good."

Lady Tracy, who had promised to call for Mabel on her way home, now entered the cottage. She had overheard the latter part of what her daughter had been saying, and continued the subject by repeating the verse of a hymn which both Katie and Nelly had learned:

"Eternal life is not a gift which good deeds or prayers can deserve or
purchase; it is the free gift of God.

"'God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son.'"

Lady Tracy then spoke kindly to Katie, telling her how glad she was to see her so much better.

"God has been most merciful to you, my dear child," said she. "Try to feel grateful to Him for His goodness; and, above all, try and realise that the 'only' way to have true peace with God is to have sincere, humble trust in Jesus Christ."