(For Young People.)
NEARLY thirty years ago, there might have been seen running down the street of a small village in the county of H―, a middle-aged woman, as though some strange thing had happened. Several of the neighbors called after her to know what was the matter; but she continued her course till she reached and entered a house which stands at the outskirts of the village, and which, from its having a windmill attached, is commonly called “the mill house.” We will leave her there while we inform our readers that the aforesaid property belonged to her husband, and that not long before this time they and their family had occupied it. The children were badly trained, and A―, the one of whom we are about to write, early associated with dissipated youths, and became wild and reckless. He was a constant source of grief to his parents, nor could they persuade him to abandon the scenes of gaiety into which he had been introduced, and of which he had become so excessively fond. True, there were times when he was completely wretched, and on those occasions he would listen to their entreaties, and promise for the future to remain at home. But no sooner was he invited to a party than he accepted the invitation; and though he was told that he would break his promise if he went, go he would, and go he did.
While thus pursuing his wicked career, he fell in with a party of soldiers, and as he was last seen in their company, it was thought that he had entered the army; and the supposition proved correct. Not that he took the trouble to inform his parents; nay, in order that they might not be able to trace him, he enlisted under an assumed name.
See, dear readers, what bitter fruits sin produces, even in this life. “Born like a wild ass’s colt,” A― not only grew up entirely independent of God, but “without natural affection,” and treated with contempt the words of admonition and the pleadings of love.
When A― joined his regiment, it was under orders to embark for India; and after sixteen years of service and suffering in that hot climate, during the whole of which period he never wrote to his sorrowing parents, he was obliged to be discharged and sent to England. Having no resources of his own, he was glad to bend his steps homeward, and at length he arrived at the house in which many of his youthful days had been spent. Those who occupied it soon dispatched a messenger to his parents, and at once, without shawl or bonnet, and almost wild with joy, the mother ran to meet her long-lost son, and conduct him to his father and brothers and sisters, all of whom gave him a hearty welcome. His wanderings were now over, and his parents not only frankly forgave him for all the anguish he had caused them, but ministered to his necessities till the day of his death.
Whether “the goodness of God” ever led A―“to repentance” we do not know; but the way in which he was welcomed home sweetly, though feebly, illustrates the joy at the return of a prodigal (Luke 15). If any of our readers, through the convicting power of the Holy Spirit, have come to themselves, and turned their backs upon the far country in which they did nothing ‘but fulfill “the desires of the flesh and of the mind,” and drink “iniquity like water,” let them come and prove how good and how gracious the Lord is. Fall into his open arms, and without an upbraiding word, you will be, as it were, pressed to his bosom, receive the kiss of full and free forgiveness, have the best robe, the ring, and the, shoes put upon you, feast upon the fatted calf, and in spirit hear the Father say, “Let us eat and be merry;” you will learn the baseness of your iniquities in the light of that grace which laid them all upon Jesus, who put them away by the sacrifice of himself; the pardon of your sins will be followed by deliverance from their power; and what your promises and resolutions never effected, what even the tears and persuasions of your parents and friends never accomplished, will be brought about by the realization of that love which passeth knowledge, and by the possession of that joy with which a stranger cannot intermeddle; and however long you may remain in the wilderness, he who, when you were “alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works,” reconciled you to himself by the death of his Son, will, if you “count upon him,” “supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”
N.