CHAPTER IX.
TRUE FRIENDSHIP.
Then, potent with the spell of heaven,
Go, and thine erring brother gain;
Entice him home to be forgiven,
Till he, too, see his Saviour plain.—Keble.
Three weeks more passed away; the journey homeward was getting near its end, for the weather had been fine, and except that, on account of a death on board, the vessel stayed a day and a night at St. Helena, there were no interruptions. It was a lovely morning; the wind was hushed, there was scarcely a ripple upon the ocean, the vessel glided on without breaking the stillness, and Hubert sat on deck with his friend, enjoying the genial atmosphere of the temperate zone.
"Captain Goodwin," said the traveller, "I think our journey together is nearly ended."
"Are you not going to England?" immediately inquired Hubert.
"No—at least, not at present. In a few days we shall pass Portugal, and I may say farewell to you off Lisbon. I have a little matter on hand that takes me to that part: when I have finished it I hope to come to England; and I hope to meet you some day again. I trust that what we have seen of each other has not been unprofitable; something I have told you may remain in your memory, for I have told you many things concerning the ways of men in nearly every country that I have been to. Your knowledge has been confined to India, which country I have traversed almost from one end to the other; and yet I have learnt very much from you; and, now that we are about to part, I will tell you how. It may be that, mixing so much amongst Indian idolatry, or, indeed, I hardly know what has been the cause—but of late years I have grown careless of the pure faith of my childhood, and have rather liked than otherwise anything that tended to increase a disbelief in God and a future life. Once let the thought that there is no future fix itself in the mind of a man, and a thousand other thoughts, more wicked than the first, follow, and there is little difficulty in disbelieving altogether; for it is the belief that there is a future that constitutes the key-stone in religion. Well, I had become sceptical; and, Goodwin, you perhaps little thought it, but it was you with your Bible, and all its precepts so exemplified in your conduct, that struck me, and made me look into my own heart to find how it was that you appeared so much more happy and contented than I was. I have often watched you; and your silent and, as you thought, unseen study of your Bible had a powerful effect upon me, and did more for me than any noisy demonstration would have done. When I first met with you I was in a state of mind to have laughed at you, if you had come and talked about conversion and grace, and prated off a host of Scripture texts. I had too long forsaken religion to be frightened back to it; and that is the mistake many good people make in their endeavours to bring back God's wandering children. When I saw you so consistent and so earnest in your religious duties, I know this, that I longed to be like you, and that longing led me to think of what I had once been, and by degrees things have changed with me. I have wanted to tell you this before, but have always been afraid to trust myself; it is because our journey is so nearly ended that I tell you now. And look here, Goodwin, when I have done what I have to do in Portugal I will come to England, where I shall hope to meet you; and by God's blessing, since there is no secret between us now, we will talk this matter over again. It may be a year before I come, perhaps longer; but remember, if I am spared, I will come, for I shall never forget you."
"Neither shall I you," said Hubert, grasping his hand; but his heart was full, and for some minutes he said no more. At length he continued, "Oh, I am sorry to part with you; I have often wished that some of our time could be spent in reading God's word, and talking of His mercy to us both; the want of our doing so has made me at times sadly miss two friends I left in India; still, I have much enjoyed your society, and have learnt very much from you; for though our conversation has for the most part been upon secular things, you have given me very much to think about, and I thank God that I met with you. When I reach home," and Hubert sighed, "I should like to write to you; and if you will tell me where a letter will find you I will do so. I shall take up my quarters in the north of England."
The traveller gave Hubert an address which he said would find him, at least for the next three months, and then he added—