He had commenced family worship when they were married, but as his views changed he gradually desisted, and finally left off entirely. This caused Ruth great grief, for she had ever been a conscientious and consistent Christian. Since they came to Bayton she had prevailed upon him to resume the custom that was such a source of joy and comfort to them in the halcyon days of yore. He always held the service in the morning before breakfast and just after supper in the evening, as then all the children could be present.
When Eddie came his father took down the family Bible. They then sang an appropriate hymn, and, after reading a chapter, he carried them all to a throne of grace in prayer.
The Bible from which he read the lesson had been in the family for four generations, and in the family record there were the names of some who had been gathered to their fathers for over a hundred years. It had been left him by his mother, and almost her last words were spoken as she presented it to him. She said: "Take this, my son; it has been your mother's counsellor and guide through life, and when other friends failed her it was true. Go to it for counsel every day, my son; it will be better unto thee than thousands of gold and silver."
The son took it with a determination to guard it as a precious treasure, and to leave it as an heirloom to his children. He penned upon its flyleaf the beautiful words of the poet Morris, as they so explicitly expressed the incidents which were associated with his own experience:
"This Book is all that's left me now;
Tears will unbidden start;
With faltering lip and throbbing brow
I press it to my heart.
For many generations past
Here is our family tree,
My mother's hand this Bible clasped,
She dying gave it me."
After prayer he went to his shop thanking God in his heart for His mercy to him after all his lapses. And there was that glow of happiness reigning in his soul which he only knows who has a happy home.
Never were truer words penned than those of the poor wanderer,
John Howard Payne:
"Be it ever so humble,
There's no place like home."
If a man has hearts that love him there, he is better prepared to successfully meet and overcome life's difficulties and to endure buffetings from the outside world. It seems eminently felicitous that heaven should be called home; for the name is associated with the sweetest, purest, holiest joys that are experienced in this life. It raises our hopes, and fills us with a glorious expectancy, when we think of that place of rest as "home, sweet home."