‘“Yet a little patience,” cried Experience, and struck it again. Then the Will was restored to Fides,—straight, pure, beautiful,—oh, how unlike that staff which had been so deadly in the grasp of Pride!
‘As Fides stood gazing on the fair gift before him, once more, and for the last time, the shining robe and star-wreath of Conscience flashed on his sight. Never before had her smile been so glad, so beaming with the radiance of Heaven.
‘“The work is done,—the fight is over!” she exclaimed. “Thou art summoned to the Presence of thy King! A messenger is even now waiting to conduct thee to the Home which thou so long hast desired! Go, bearing with thee the offering of a conquered Will, the acknowledgment that not even that should be thine own, and the remembrance of foes bravely met and overcome, through the might of Him Who armed thee for the fight.... Go where all is gladness and rejoicing and peace,—where war and danger shall be known no more!”‘[135]
The work was nearly done; the fight was nearly over. But Charlotte Tucker could not yet see the starry form, could not yet hear the gentle accents, which soon would bid her to ‘rise and come away.’ Before many days of 1892 had passed, she was back again in Batala; deep in her usual round of work and interests.
‘Batala, Jan. 10.—Here am I at home again. I did so enjoy and benefit by my visit to Narowal. It was not leaving work but leaving cares. I worked every day, but the work was more encouraging, and the feeling of repose so refreshing. If I live to see another Christmas, I think that I shall run away to some quiet spot, like Narowal, where the railway whistle is never heard....
‘When I was at peaceful Narowal, I happened to read in a printed paper a kind of fable, which has been such a comfort to myself, that I have put the idea into verse, and my Laura shall have a copy.... As we Missionaries have a great many more little annoyances than great afflictions, I am inclined—for myself—to change the last line but one into
‘“Change petty worries to plumage on wings.”
‘You know there are on a bird’s pinion, not only the long feathers, but the little tiny ones; but how that fluffy downy sort add to beauty and comfort!...
“WEIGHTS AND WINGS.
‘“Sweet is a parable which I have read;