Onward; or, The mountain clamberers. A tale of progress

Preface

This little volume is intended for the encouragement of those who are endeavouring to fulfil life's great end, — to glorify their God on earth, and to be rendered meet for His eternal kingdom. It is for those who are wishing, and for those who are striving ; for the dwellers in the valley, who look wistfully on the hills above, — for the clamberers on the mountain side, who are going from strength to strength, trusting to appear before their God in Zion.

It is especially intended for the young, and the ardent, and the aspiring. We do not wish to chill kiry one's ardour, nor to check any one's aspirations. "We wish them to go " higher and higher," even until there is no moixntain beyond, — until they reach the land that is above the clouds of earth, until they stand before the throne of God, and drink at the fountain-

4 PKEFACE.

head of the pure i$ver of life, whose waters, clear as crystal, flow in Heaven's Paradise.

The mount of duty up which the Christian must ascend is of tertiary formation. The primary rock is the Love of Christ ; and that which lies directly on it, is Faith in His precious sacrifice. Then rise all the duties and graces which Scripture enjoins ; " add to faith, virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ; and to patience, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness, charity." Love is the base, and love is the crowning peak ; even as the primary granite, the foundation of God's mountain pyramids, is likewise the rock that forms the highest peaks, that overtops all the other layers, and points its naked summits towards the sky. Let the mountain clamberer's first step, therefore, be, to believe in the love of the Son of God ; and as he clambers from ridge to ridge, as he surmounts duty after duty, still let his eye be on the highest point, — the preserving love of Jesus. And when the last step is taken, when the highest summit is reached, the Everlasting Arms, which have continually preserved him, shall bear him from the Pisgah of earth to the Canaan of heaven. Transforming grace shall then become transforming glory, and for progress from strength to strength, shall be substituted change from glory to glory.

PREFACE. 5

We have reason to believe that they who highest climb earth's mount of duty, shall throughout eternity ascend higher heaven's mount of glory.

Arise, then, Christian ! time is short, and the ascent is long. Gird thyself, and thou shalt attain. Onward ! the path hath been trodden by thy Saviour. Upward ! Jesus standeth at the right hand of God. With one hand He helpeth thee throughout the struggle, in the other He holdeth the purchased crown, with which He will reward thy toil.

In this simple tale of mountain-clamberers several true incidents are mingled. May God condescend to bless it all, for the furtherance of His honour, by permitting it to promote the good of His people, rousing some that rest in the valley, and quickening others, who linger in the ascent. Especially, may it lead the young to plant their footsteps on the mount of God — to strive in the days of youth — to clamber high — to " covet earnestly the best of gifts," — and to "press toward the mark for the prize of their high calling of God in Christ Jesus."

CONTENTS,

CHAPTEE FA.G1!

I. LOOKING UPWARDS, ..... 9

II. COLIN- AND JEANIE, . . . . . 15

III. THE FAMILY AT ALLETNE,

XVII. SALOME,

XIX. STAFFA AND IONA, it. off! off! and away! . . • .31

37 47

V. ENDEAVOURING, .....

VI. EDWARD ARNOLD, .....

VII. POOR, YET NOBLE, ....

VIII. LITTLE HARRY, .....

IX. POOR JAMIE CLARK, ....

X. FIELDS WHITE UNTO THE HARVEST, . . . 87

XI. THE SAND-HUTS, . . . . • .100

XII. THE DRUNKARD'S COTTAGE, . . i . 112

XIII. THE INFANT'S MINISTRY, . . . . .121

XIV. STAND STILL, . . . . . .127

XV. OLD MOSES AND LITTLE ADAH, . . • .139

XVI. THE ROCKY GLEN, ..... 14S

XVIII. WIDOW m'leod, . . . • • 173

XX. CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE, . . • .198

8 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGF

xxi. faith's conflict, . . . . .211

xxii. faith's victory, ..... 224

xxiii. reunion, ....... 241

xxiy. summer days, ..... 246

xxv. the fading flower, ..... 263

xxvi. the unexpected arrival, . . . .271

xxvii. a wedding-day, ...... 283

xxviii. the mountain-tops appearing, . . . 291

xxix. hastening on, . . . . . 301

xxx. the sire's birthday, .... 314

xxxi. the summit .gained, ..... 323

O N W A B D .

Chapter I. Looking Upwards

" Higher, higher, let us climb, Looking up and pressing on, Hast'ning through the days of time, Unto glory near the throne.

For all thy need

The Saviour cares, So onward speedy Thy pains he hears."

" Now, Ethie, won't you sing us something ? " said Hubert, as seated at the little table, where his own lamp burned, he closed a volume on Nautical Science, which he had been diligently studying. " The clock is striking, so the young ones may shut their books also, and we must have something bright after the past hour of intense silence."

" Do, Ethie, do," said Gertrude ; but poor Bowland looked up rather despairingly, as he exclaimed) " Oh ! I had 1* just got hold of this problem, and now it is vanished quite. It is so troublesome ! "

" Never mind," said his brother ; " it will all come back to-morrow morning. You have been long enough at books now."

" That would do if I could master a thing, as easily as you can, but you know I can't ; " so Rowland took his books under one arm, and Hubert's lamp in his hand, and ascended the stairs to his own little room, which he used to describe as "placed alone upon the housetop."

It was a slightly frosty night at the end of October, The youth wrapped his railway-rug round him, and in about twenty minutes the problem was solved.

" Now I have done," he said ; and he put out the lamp, and opened his skylight window to observe what stars were rising, setting, and culminating.

Rowland w/ts of a quiet, plodding disposition. Though not quick in apprehension, he was deep in reflection. His temper was rarely excited by any disturbance ; but his feelings seldom expanded to enter into the pursuits of those with whom he associated. His maxim was, "■ Let people alone ; " and his entreaty was, " Let me alone." There was one, however, whom he loved with the strongest affection, in whose soul his own seemed to be enfolded, and that was the gentle, lovely Ethelda; but for others, whether brother, sister, father,, or school-fellows, he cared little. Ethie was his idol, and himself filled up the rest of his heart. He had a sense of religion, was upright and honourable, but

LOOKING TJPWAKDS. 11

there was no room for the love of God to possess his soul. He was far from being thoroughly happy ; and often wondered why he was so different to his beloved sister.

As he gazed at and noticed the stars that night, he almost mechanically began to repeat the stanzas of a baby rhyme, and without thinking of a word he uttered, proceeded to the commencement of the last verse : —

" As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark ; Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star."

Thought, then, suddenly arrested him. He mused as he repeated each of these lines ; and looking once more at their tiny spark, exclaimed, —

" Happy, useful stars. Oh ! that I were so also."

Then shutting the window, he descended slowly to the drawing-room, where Ethelda and Hubert were singing duets.

Only Ethelda observed Rowland enter; and she soon noticed the rather sad expression of his countenance. The duet finished, she smiling brightly, turned to her younger brother, —

u Now, Rowly, what would you like ? "

" Any thing, Ethie ; you know 1" don't care as long as you sing."

" This is a favourite, is it not ? " and her clear voice commenced Longfellow's beautiful poem : —

" The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed, A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! Excelsior ! "

" Everybody likes that song," said the bright-eyed Gertrude ; " but I own it puzzles me. I do not like ' Excelsior,' because I don't understand it."

" I like you, Gerty, for always allowing what is true," replied Hubert. " We must ask Rowland for the explanation, since he evidently enjoys it."

" The story is simple enough," remarked Rowland, " both beautiful and true ; for many are ever striving, and ever disappointed. They wave their ' Excelsior ' banner, but in a little while the snow-wreath gathers round it." And then in an under-tone he added, " I have never unfurled mine yet."

" I $>m not sure of that, Rowly," said Ethelda, who had overheard him. " I have sometimes seen you bear it, but I own you have soon thrown it down."

" Without braving the awful avalanche," added Rowland, " * Excelsior ' can never be my motto."

" A very dangerous one when climbing the mount of human glory, but it is the device which God hath bid us bear as we ascend towards the Heavenly City."

" I do not see why we may not hold it, and climb both mountains," remarked Hubert. " I hope to be a great man as well as a good man. Whatever I do, it must be ' higher ! higher ! ' "

LOOKING UPWAKDS. 13

" Goodness is the higher mountain," said Ethelda ; " so you should lose sight of Greatness ; or, rather, they are one. Greatness is a volcanic hill when it stands alone ; and if we reach its summit, it will open its mouth and swallow us up : but climb Goodness, and true Greatness lies at your feet."

" Well, Ethie," replied Hubert, " you seem to stand on the summit. Tell us how we are to attain "

" Hubert ! "—and the tear filled Ethelda's eye— « I am far, far from reaching there."

" Oh, Ethie, I did not mean to distress you ! I suppose it is because we are so deep in the valley that we fancied the point you had attained was the height of the mountain."

" You are all so metaphorical," said Gertrude, " that I can hardly understand you better than Longfellow ; but if this is what you mean, I don't like it at all. Ethelda even thinks she is not good enough, and Hubert is always longing to be greater. We are never to be content and happy, and enjoy what we have, but to be always crying, ' Excelsior ! Excelsior ! '. It may not sound so sentimental, but I do think that Longfellow's boy would have been wiser to have staid in the l peaceful village ' than to have been found halfburied in the snow."

" Very true of Longfellow's boy ; but speaking of ourselves metaphorically, Gerty," replied Ethelda, " if we remain in the ' peaceful village ' we must be overthrown by the avalanche of wrath. ' Excelsior ' is the Christian's safety, for it is the command of our King ; but He who bids his people ' Come up hither,' hath provided the needful

Guide, and promised the needful strength. Higher up, earth's mountain leads to the slippery glacier. Higher up, God's mountain leads to the Father's right hand, to the effulgence of glory. Let us not forget the two last beautiful lines, —

" And from the sky, serene and far, A Toice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior ! "

"Do sing it again," said Rowland thoughtfully ; and as the beloved Ethelda's clear voice sounded " Excelsior ! " her brothers joined, and it seemed no longer to them " the accents of an unknown tongue," but rather the expression of a high resolve.

Rowland looked once more that night at the clear, shining stars ; and they seemed to re-echo the word Ethelda had sung, and the wish again arose, " Oh ! that my tiny spark might light the traveller in the dark ! "

It was a high and holy desire, which should ere long spring from a far deeper and purer source than the present dissatisfied yearnings of his soul. The love of Christ should soon constrain it ; and then it would lead him " Higher ! higher ! " until, having turned many souls unto righteousness, he should, in G-od's spiritual firmament, shine as the stars for ever and ever.

COLIN AND JEANIE. 15

Chapter II. Colin And Jeanie

* Brother ! worilcPst thou Jesus see, And be blest by Him in time ?

Blest, too. in eternity ?

Brother, then, abide in Him.

Oh ! abide in Him, my brother, Give thy heart up to Him whole;

This one thing, without another, Is sufficient for thy soul,"

The old family mansion in which the Alleynes lived did not stand far from the banks of one of those clear winding fivers that intersect our northern counties. These, running rapidly through deep dells, give birth to many beautiful spots in a country that might otherwise be deemed barren and uninviting. Mr. Alleyne's grounds had been laid out with excellent taste, Nature being allowed to continue her dominion, and Art being employed as her servant, rather than allowed to become her supplanter.

Through one of the narrow mossy walks that run nearly parallel ^with the river, Ethelda and Rowland were passing. The former had a small covered basket in' her hand, whilst

Rowland carried a bundle beneath his arm. The day was not inviting ; it was a sunless morning in the month of November. The moss was very damp, and the banks slippery, and innumerable rain-drops, which seemed as if they would never be dried up, were suspended from each branch, and from each brown leaf, that hung clingingly, but helplessly, to the newly-denuded branches.

Rowland walked very silently, and hardly replied at all to the remarks his sister made. These, consequently, became fewer and fewer,, and at length the cawing of the crows seemed the only sound that disturbed that little woodland. And now they came to a green wicket-gate, passing through which they entered a field partly stubble, partly fallow-ground, in which the countryman with his plough and horses was busily engaged. - On the other side stood a thatched cottage. Ethelda took the road that led to it, and as she knocked at the door, turning to Rowland, she inquired, " Now, Rowly, won't you go in?"

" I'd rather stay outside," he replied, in a dissatisfied tone.

" Very well," she said, somewhat sadly ; but Rowland, finding it awkward to transfer the bundle from his arm to Ethelda's, said, with an effort, " I'll go in for once, if you like it."

His sister's countenance brightened, and she cheerfully entered the old man's home, accompanied by her young brother.

COLIN AND JEANIE. 17

" Good morning, Colin ; and how are you and Jeanie to-day?"

" I think we are some better, ma'am ; thank ye, kindly."

" I hardly expected to hear that during this dull November weather; but you are looking more cheerful. We have brought some warm things, we thought might make you and Jeanie comfortable this winter."

" Oh, thank you, kindly. I'm sure we are much obliged ;" — and Ethelda undid the parcel, and made blind Jeanie feel the warm stockings and other things that it contained. In the meantime Colin inquired of tho young master whether he would not be seated, and moved his stiffened arms, as much as rheumatism would allow, to place one of the chairs in a more convenient situation. Rowland observing this, and feeling that after the poor man's trouble it would not be civil to refuse, sat down, wondering what he could say.

Colin said something about the dulness of the weather, and Rowland said,* *" Yes ; " and then Colin hoped that the days might become brighter as the fogs of November cleared away, and Rowland said, " I hope so ; " and then Colin was silent, and Rowland was silent also. Ethelda observing this, even whilst she was talking to Jeanie, immediately turned to the old man, and begged him to tell her brother of some of his adventures in early life.

" Well now, master, I'll tell you, if, maybe, ye'd like to hear. I was of a roving turn when quite young, so at last I ran off from home and went to sea. I was always wishing I was what I wasn't, and always dreaming of making a fortune and coming back a great man. Twice I saved some pounds, and then I was both times wrecked. Indeed, master, I have found it doesn't do to be always runniDg after the money. The last wreck told hard upon my health; we were nine days upon a raft, and were taken up more dead than alive. I do not remember the last of that ; the senses were not left in me, when the ship rescued us. I was a regular wrecked man in health and fortune, so I wandered home. Father, he took me kindly in; but mother, I only saw the sod that was above her grave. Ah! that was sad to bear; and I never shall forget it, sir. A child of my brother's was on my knee, and he looks up at me and says, l Did ye know granny ? ' I says, c Yes, I am her son,' and the boy looks up and says, c Are you the naughty laddie that ran away, and that granny used to pray for every night; and when she was dying she prated the Lord Jesus, she might meet her poor Coll in heaven ? ' Ah ! Master Rowland, that went through my heart like a dagger, for I loved mother! It was worse to bear than any shipwreck. Well, I never went to sea again, but I didn't get better. I now took to roving about the country, selling mugs and basins. I was married then, and I had several children. I was often before the magistrates as a vagrant, and I swore, and fought, and drank. Ah ! I've

COLIN AOT> JEANXE. 19

been a wicked one, and I cannot think why I wasn't cut off in my sins."

" Because Jesus has loved you, you cannot tell why," remarked Ethelda.

"Aye, ma'am, just so:" and the silent tear gathered in the old man's eye, and then ran slowly down the furrows of his aged cheek. " Well, Master Kowland, I fear I shall tire you; but I grew old in my sins. The children all were grown, but, except Jeanie here, cared little for me; and then the mother died. I dinnalike to talk of her funeral; it was a sad disgrace. "We went to the public-house after she was buried, and I and the lads were all o' us drunk. I wonder, we were not buried the next. But now I was eighty years old, and I could not go on with the wandering no more ; so the parish allowed me and Jeanie five shillings, and one of my sons, who has got on well in the world, gives us three shillings a-week more, and so we took this cottage, and, thank God, I've come to live in it. Master Kowland, I did not believe the Bible, but I had been here some years ; it is about three summers since your sister knocked at the door and asked if I had a Bible. I told her, l No, I didn't need it, I could do well enough without it.' I dare say she was sorry to see an old man tottering to the grave, and no staff to lean on, for she did not take my rough answer, but talked so nice like, I could not help asking her to come to my poor cot once more;" and turning to Ethelda, the old man continued, — " And ye know, ma'am, how ye've come again and again, and how ye answered all the objections I could bring forward ; and now I find this precious Bible is just like the chart that tells the sailor When to go to windward or leeward, and will lead me right on to the port o' yonder."

" Then, Colin," said Ethelda, " you are still pressing forward, even in old age ? "

" Aye, ma'am, the Golden City is still afore us. The mountain we are getting up reaches ahint the clouds. Jeanie and I often talk of the end, and I oft spell out to her the two last chapters of the Revelation."

" I oft tell father," remarked Jeanie, with that placid, happy look which so characterised her, "that I shall at first have the advantage of him ; it will be such a surprise to my poor blind eyes to see all at once the King in His beauty, and the city which hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon to lighten it."

" Ah, Jeanie, you see that even now by faith, and so even now you have the advantage over many."

" Yes, ma'am, yes, God has just covered me with advantages. I'm sure, I should never cease to thank the blessed Lord."

" Indeed we should not," added the' old man, " because His mercy endureth for ever. I've now passed fourscore years and ten, and that mercy, which bore with me when I never knew it, may well be trusted during the few months of life that remain. I only pray that so long

COLIN AND JEANIE. 21

as I live, I may live to the Lord, that as I get more near to heaven, I may get more like to it."

" Always onward," said Ethelda, — " onward to the Father's home."

" That is it, ma'am;" and the old man looked bright, and so did Jeanie. Ethelda and Rowland wished them good morning, and soon closed the little wicket-gate, which led into their cottage-garden.

" Ethie," remarked Rowland, earnestly, as they retraced their steps, "I see that old man knows the meaning of ' Excelsior.' "

" Does he ? What makes you think so ? "

" Because he is a mountain-clamberer, and with true pilgrim spirit, will not lay down his staff, till — I liked the way he spoke — ' he is ahint the clouds.' "

" I wish," replied Ethelda, "we could all take up our staff in that way also."

" Oh ! Ethie," said Rowland, with extreme earnestness, " I am very unhappy, — I want to be very good, and I cannot. I feel I am cross and selfish, and the more I feel it, the worse I seem to be. I go down instead of up, — lower rather than higher."

"Don't be unhappy, dear Rowly," replied his sister; "Paul died before he lived. He commenced the ascent from the moment that he fell to the ground, overcome by the bright light that shone from heaven."

" Yes ; but he did then begin to ascend. I get lower and lower, T feel it."

"So low, dear boy, that no one but God can raise you up."

Kowland was silent ; a ray of hope beamed suddenly over his sorrowful mind. He considered it with wonder, and his heart continued too full to allow him to speak. Ethelda did not know how God blessed that word so gently spoken. Seeing that her brother was no longer inclined to converse, she was silent. As soon as they reached home, Rowland hastened to his little skylight-room. He poured out the fulness of his heart upon his knees, and again and again supplicated, " Lord, no one but thyself can lift me up. Pity me for Jesus'sake, Amen." Gradually, the conviction of the power of God increased in his mind, and the doubt of his willingness seemed as gradually to remove, until he indeed hoped that God would fulfil to him the promise, " I will be -your God forever and ever; I will be your Guide, even unto death."

Chapter III. The Family At Alleyne

" Yet, if it be His holy will, I pray that, hand in hand, We all may travel many a hill Of this the pilgrims 1 land.

With Zion's shining gate in view, Through every danger rise ;

And form a family anew, Unbroken in the skies. 11

Not far from Alleyne stood the old parish church. Its ancient spire pointing towards heaven, seemed to tell at once the Christian's hope and duty. A many-graved churchyard surrounded that old edifice, and beside the wall which enclosed it, old elm-trees grew. Under the shadow of some of their branches there was a tomb of massive stone, which contrasted strongly with the little green hillocks and simple headstones, marking where the villagers had been laid to rest. A lamb, as it had been slain, was carved on one side, and below were inscribed the simple words, " I lay my sins on Jesus; " on the opposite side of the tomb were written the names of Ethelda, the beloved wife of Hugh Alfeyne, of Alley ne, and of Bertha, their infant child. " They are BOt, for God took them," were the only words the surviving husband had engraven there. The morning that Ethelda and Eowland walked to see old Colin, was the fourteenth anniversary of the sad day, when their valued mother had been consigned to her lonely tomb. It had been but a*short week before, that in the morning there was great joy, for another little girl was born, and in the evening there was bitter weeping, because it was evident that the husband must part with the wife he so tenderly cherished, that the children must lose the mother they so fondly loved, and the servants cease to call her, mistress, whom they so highly regarded.

The dying mother had requested to see her little ones once more. She calmly kissed the fragile, new-born babe, and the bright-eyed Gertrude ; but her eye filled with tears as her father placed his youngest boy on her pillow, and the thoughtful-looking Eowly, but half understanding the scene, buried his infant head on his dying parent's breast, and lisped, "Mamma, darling mamma, don't leave Kowly, — Rowly go too." The mother could not speak, but her lips moved in prayer, wafting, no doubt, a petition to the throne of God that the Heavenly Father would never leave her child. Hubert and Ethie also stood in that chamber of death, and Mrs. Alleyne for a moment looked sadly at her weeping children, who must so soon be deprived of a mother's care ; but she knew in whom she believed, and doubted not that her God would supply all their need. Her eye once more brightened, she laid her hand on theirs, and slowly said, " My children, ever — follow Jesus. Look up to Him." Then her thoughts seemed to pass to her absent first-born, for she was heard to whisper, " And Percy too." And. now her last look rested on her broken-hearted husband, and she uttered, " Trust — trust." Her own trusting soul passed into the presence of her Saviour, and the others were left to mourn, but not as those who have no hope. The new-born Bertha survived her mother but a few hours, and then her infant lyre was tuned to swell that chorus of praise in which her parent had already united. From that time Mr. Alley ne was, indeed, bowed low with grief. His daughter Ethelda was the only one on earth from whom he appeared to receive comfort ; and as she grew into womanhood, he loved to trace in her the lineaments of her mother. She strongly resembled her, not only in disposition and appearance, but in the strength of her faith and in devotedness to her God. The poor people, who had loved Mrs. Alleyne, declared that in Miss Ethelda they had their dear lady back

Percy, the eldest son, had sailed for India. He there filled an important civil office, had chosen for himself a wife, accomplished and beautiful, and was the father of one lovely child. Hubert was very clever, very ambitious, and very warm-hearted. He was the thorough English sailor. His frank, lively manner, his kindness of disposition, and his handsome, ingenuous countenance, won 2 him friends wherever he went. He admired the religion of Ethelda, because he knew that it was sincere; bufr he despised that of mere professors, because he hated its hollowness. Even from Ethelda's piety he shrank, — he did not like coming too near it; yet, although he. felt that he had nothing in common with his sister's feelings, he could not find out how to quarrel with them, and his conscience was always whispering, " Ethelda is right, and you are wrong. ,} Amidst the allurements of a treacherous world, with all its pomps and vanities, with all its honours and deceitful promises, Ethelda trembled for the soul of this brother, -whom she dearly loved.