“HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE.”
By Aytch
A WAYFARING man once stopped at a wayside tavern for the night. He was kindly received by the host and his wife and daughter, who made haste to make him welcome, and did everything for his comfort that their generous hearts could devise. A bountiful repast was soon spread, and the stranger was invited to partake freely of their good cheer. When he beheld the feast, the old pilgrim’s eye lighted up at the sight of such unwonted fare, and, raising his eyes and hands to heaven, he praised the Lord aloud, from a full heart, for his bounty and blessing, at which the host and hostess were silent. After a cheerful evening’s talk they retired. In the morning, when the ample meal was spread, the guest bowed his head and returned thanks and praise to the God of heaven and earth for the blessings and the favors spread out before them in such variety and abundance. When he was ready to depart, he took the hand of his kind host and thanked him heartily for the kindness that he had received at the hands of himself and family, and wished that the blessing of the Lord might follow him all the days of his life. “Nay, my good friend,” said his host, “you have thanked the Lord for all you have received here, and why do you need to thank me?” “My brother,” replied the old man, “you have received the stranger like a friend and brother, and have set before him of your store your best, and have surrounded him with kindness and comforts, and the Lord do so to you, and more also for what you have done to the stranger, even as tho you had done it unto himself. For your kindness and hospitality, which were worth more to the homeless stranger than all your excellent fare, I thank you with my whole heart, but for the bounty and favor I thank the Lord, who is the Author and Giver of all. I beheld at your table treasures of the woods and the fields; treasures of the garden, the orchard, and the vineyard; treasures of the dairy and poultry yard; treasures from a thousand flowers; treasures from many lands, and, crowning all, the treasures of sweet flowers from your daughter’s garden; and I praise the Lord of the harvest, for myself and for you all, for all that we were enjoying of a fruitful season, by his mercy and blessing. “If God had withheld the rain, as he has in heathen India; if the sky was like brass above your heads, and the earth like iron beneath your feet; if the woods and fields and orchards and gardens and vineyards and flowers were languishing and drying up; if the flocks and herds were famishing and dying, where would have been your hearty good cheer that you have poured out with such a kind and lavish hand? I saw gathered around you the strongest and tenderest ties of nature, a gentle and gracious wife, fair and dutiful daughter, and in the cradle a precious son to bear your name. I saw health on every cheek, hope sparkling in every eye, strength and vigor, joy and pleasure, in every motion, and the fire of love burning in every heart; and I praised God, the Author of life and love, for you, my brother, for this priceless ‘heritage’ you have of the Lord, and for the manifold manifestations I have seen of his presence and blessing with you and yours. I hope, my friend, that you will not withhold your thanksgiving until God shall take away some of your treasures before you shall look up and acknowledge the Author and Giver of ‘every good and perfect gift,’ and render unto him the homage and praise due to his holy name, not only for these natural, temporal blessings, but for ‘the unspeakable gift’ of his dear Son, in whom and through whom we may have every spiritual blessing.” The traveler went his way, but the “word fitly spoken” fell into good and honest soil, and sprang up and blossomed and bore fruit to the praise and honor of the pilgrim’s God, and now those who stop at that wayside tavern are received and made welcome in the name of the Lord Jesus, the Friend of “pilgrims” and “strangers.”