CHAPTER IX.
A NEW HOME.
James and his daughter were now settled down in a place which theycould call home; they furnished their rooms in a simple style, withnothing more than they needed for everyday wants. It gave Mary greatpleasure in again being able to prepare her father's meals, and to lookafter his comforts in every way; and together they led a life of quiethappiness. The good friends with whom they lived had a large gardenattached to the house, but as the farmer and his wife had their timetoo much taken up in the field to give much care to the garden, it wasof little or no use to them. James saw that it could be made aprofitable source of income by devoting it to the growing of flowersand fruit, and when he proposed to put this plan into execution thefarmer's consent was willingly granted.
During the autumn time, James had made his preparations, and when thewarmth of spring had melted the winter snows, he began his work,assisted by Mary; and together they laboured from morning to night. Thegarden was divided into beds planted with all sorts of vegetables andflowers, and bordered with gravel walks. The old man was anxious to seethe completion of his idea, and allowed neither himself nor hisdaughter rest until he had stocked the garden with their favouriteflowers, rose trees, tulip and lily roots, and various kinds ofshrubbery.
Mary made a special study of cultivating some rare flowers, among whichwere some which had never before been seen in this part of the country.When the summer came, the garden showed such a burst of verdure andblossom, that the valley, which was overshadowed by dark trees, nowassumed quite a smiling appearance. An orchard belonging to the farmer,which had also been taken in hand by James, soon bore evidence to hisgardening skill in the shape of an abundant harvest of fruit. Indeed,it seemed as if the blessing of God was upon everything that Jamesundertook.
Settled in a comfortable home, and occupied in his favourite calling,the old gardener began to forget the troubles of the past, and toregain the cheerful humour which had made his conversation such adelight in the past. Once more he began to reflect upon the lessonswhich the flowers taught, and day by day he taught to Mary some newlesson which he had learned from them.
One day a woman from the neighbouring village came to buy some flaxfrom the farmer, and brought her little boy with her. While she wasoccupied in bargaining for the flax, her little child, finding thegarden-gate open, had gone in and begun to plunder a full-blown rosebush, with the result that he scratched himself terribly with the sharpthorns. His mother and the farmer's wife, as well as James and hisdaughter, hearing his screams of pain, ran to him. The child, with hislittle hands all covered with blood, cried out against the naughty rosebush for having attracted him by its pretty flowers and then cruellytorn his hands.
The occasion was seized by James for drawing a lesson. "It is sometimesthus with us older children also," he said to Mary. "Like this rosetree, every pleasure in life has its thorns. We run towards them, andwould fain seize them with both hands. Some are led away by a taste forthe dance and theatre, others by a taste for strong drink, or stillmore shameful vices. But the thorns make themselves felt by and by, andthen there comes lament for wasted youth, and a distaste for thepleasures once so eagerly sought. Do not let us be foolishly dazzled bythe beauty of the world. The chief end which man has to care for is thesaving of his soul, and it is folly to give ourselves up to theenjoyment of passion. Our unceasing effort should be to use alldiligence to gain eternal life."
One day James was employed in placing young plants in a part of thegarden, while Mary was weeding at a little distance from him. "Thisdouble labour, my child," said her father, "represents what should bethe occupation of our life. Our heart is a garden which the good Godhas given to us to cultivate. It is necessary that we should constantlyapply ourselves to cultivate the good and to extract the evil, which istoo apt to take root. That we may fulfil faithfully these two duties,let us implore God's assistance and blessing, which makes the sun toshine out and the rain to fall, the plants to grow, and the fruit toripen. Then will our hearts be delightful gardens. We shall then haveheaven within ourselves." In this way the old man and his daughterpassed through life, active and industrious in their calling, andmingling innocent pleasures and instructive conversation with theirdaily pursuits.
Three years passed swiftly away, and the happy days they had spent atPine Cottage had almost blotted out the memory of their pastmisfortunes. It was now autumn time, and the chrysanthemums, the lastornaments of the garden, were glorious in red and yellow flowers. Theleaves of the trees had become of varied tints, and everything showedthat the garden was preparing for the winter's repose. James had latelybegun to feel his strength failing, and the thought of his daughter'sfuture gave him considerable uneasiness. He concealed his feelings fromher for fear of distressing her, but Mary observed that her father'sremarks upon the flowers were now mostly of a melancholy kind. One dayshe observed a rose-bud which had never blossomed. In attempting togather it the leaves of the flower fell off in her hand. "It is thesame with men," said her father, who had been watching her. "In youthwe resemble the rose newly opened, but our life fades like the rose.Almost before it is matured, it passes away. Do not pride yourself, mydear child, upon the beauty of the body. It is vain and fragile. Aimrather at beauty of soul and true piety, which will never wither."
One day towards evening time the old man climbed a ladder to pluck someapples, while Mary stood below with a basket to hold them.
"How cold," said James, "this autumn wind is as it whistles over thestubble fields and plays with the yellow leaves and my white hairs. Iam in my autumn, my dear child, as you will also be some day. Try togrow like this excellent apple tree, which produces beautiful fruit andin great abundance. Try to please the Master of the great garden whichis called the world."
On another day Mary was sowing seed for the following spring. "The daywill come," said her father, "when we shall be put in the ground, asyou are putting these seeds. But let us console ourselves, my dearMary. As soon as the corn is enfolded in the earth, it is animated. Itsprings from the earth in the form of a beautiful flower, and risesthus triumphantly from the place where it was buried. So also shall werise one day from our tombs with splendour and magnificence. When youfollow me to the tomb, my dear child, do not mourn for me, but think ofthe future. In the flowers which you will plant on my grave, try to seethe image of the resurrection and immortal life."