It was in spring-time his great life-sorrow had touched him; yet he always seemed to love that season best. Keenly alive to the beauties of Nature, he would study her ways minutely in trees and flowers, birds and insects. The fruit trees in spring were as a poem to the aged man in their lovely blossoming.
One day Robin found him looking lovingly at some pale almond flowers flushed with faint pink. He was reading a lesson from their delicate petals.
"Isn't it beautiful?" said Jonathan as he bent the blossom-laden branch towards Robin. "Aaron's rod must have looked like that, my boy, when it brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms. What a wonderful lesson for the Christian heart!"
"I don't remember about that, Mr. Jonathan. Is it in the Bible?"
"Ay, that it is; and you may read it for yourself, my lad, when you get home. Find out the 17th chapter of Numbers, and there you will get the whole account. There were twelve rods laid before the Lord, but only one was chosen—the one that belonged to the priest. Christ is our Priest, and He is the Ark of Safety, where we, as lost and guilty sinners, may hide ourselves and be safe in Him; then He decks us in His robe of righteousness, which is far more beautiful than these lovely perishing flowers, and we not only blossom, but bear fruit."
"But what is meant by 'bearing fruit,' Mr. Jonathan?"
"Well, my boy, I think kind words and looks, and struggles against sin, are fruits that God likes to see in us. When we give up doing what we like, and try to please God and everybody around us, I think He smiles and says, 'There is fruit, pleasant fruit on that tree.' But we must keep the branch inside the Ark; there the east wind of sin can never blight its fair promise. Out of that shelter, the blossoms must fall and perish, and there will be no fruit. 'Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine, no more can ye, except ye abide in Me.'
"'They who in appointed duty
Live most secretly with God,
Shall come forth in fullest beauty,
Blossoming like Aaron's rod.
Plants can flourish in the dark,
If within the Golden Ark.'"
Robin never forgot that lesson, learned among the fragrant trees. The old man was delighted to have so interested a listener beside him, as day after day he sought to open Nature's book before the boy in the light of God's revelation. The fig tree and the vine each had their instructive story as the work of cutting and pruning or dressing went on.
"Even the thorny bramble in the wood puts us to shame," said Robin's kind teacher, one September day; "for, look! How glad it makes the children as it offers its ripe blackberries to them as they pass. Can we do as much as that poor prickly thing? Or is it only thorns we have to offer?"