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J881, II iHWRViprsi I ■■iLH 4v^' ' "*^ * JP^PH J^IPI^HPJi.W K 71 ' 2 7^9f - "^^Ha^^ '^1 5 3 PEEFATOEY NOTE. ^ISTHE writer of the following pages is aware of his inability to V^ produce either a brilliant Poem or j. learned Treatise in ja) Apologetics. His object therefore has not been an exhaustive discussion of the objections to the Faith. He has attempted to meet some of these objections in the following simple story,, none of the plots or incidents of which, are beyond the region of the actual or possible. He is aware of the fact that the actuating motive and the success of others in the same line, amply justify this mode of approach towards those who have little patience for lengthened argument. That readers may be instructed and doubters convinced is the writer's one hojie and prayer. Halifax, N. S., April, 1881. PROEM. I HE minds of young men, like the pockets of boys,! ^ Are found now and then to be harboring toys, ck5 That please with their glitter as if they were gold. And grasp young affections with very Hrra hold, When interest or duty may call for th e tovs With which inexperience is making dire noise. As sometimes the playthings of br.ght little folk Are not just the trifles on which we can look As safe for their fingering, we counsel a change, And place the pet pistol beyond their short ran^re • So sometimes when older folk notions have found That wake an. I delight them as if they were sound. Because the ' new truth ' has a perilous tone, We counsel the finders, leave error alone. For notions oft held by precious 'cute bovs Have proved when examined mere nonsense and noise. The youth Allan Gray, of whose doubting we write, Had toys that were pleasing to ear and to sight : Though firmly he held them because they were new, He paused upon finding they weren't all true. And like the wise man who discovers base coin. He henceforth the error from truth would disjoin, Rejecting as counterfeit, new or quite old,— All money not giving the ring of pure gold. CONTENTS. PAOK Prefatory Note .T Proem 5 Contents 7 Chapter I. The Home and Inmates 9 ** II. Concerning Adoption 15 III. Life on the Farm 21 " IV. A Young Heretic 20 " V. Domestic Affairs 32 " VI. Old Saw and young File 41 '* VII. Love and Logic 45 •• VIIL Love and Lucre 52 ** IX. Concerning Prayer .57 " X. Under the Rod 02 " XL Old Friends Found again 08 •• XIL The LTnfinished Letter 72 •• XIIL Mr. Blank's Views 80 •• XIV. The Vale of Infinity 84 XV. The Needless Alarm 91 •♦ XVL The Bible and Science 95 •• XVIL For Better or Worse 101 " XVIIL The Art of Catching a Fisher 100 •• XIX. The Blessed End Unseen 110 ALUir &EAY AND ms DOtTBTS. CHAPTER I. i THE HOME AND INMATES. OT far from the shores of a land-girded Bay, Whose tides ever rolled on the long summer day, ^^^ And nearer a wood half enclosing a green, A cosy old homes* ^ad may ever be seen. Some willows surround and a few mossy pines ; Low shrubbery blooms and the ivy entwines ; — Protected from storms and the hot solar rays The old house has stood from its earlier days. No mansion of granite or smooth ruddy brick With walls ever solid and steady and thick. But a mansion of wood of a structure so light You'd fear for its safety in storms of the night ;-— A mansion of wood, for the pine and the oak Resist well the weather, the climate s damp soak ; 2 t.i 10 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. A cottage for neatness, a mansion for space, All painted in white from the summit to base, With walks all around and a quiet cool seat In which you may find from the sun a retreat. He's busy, no doubt, he who owns the broad green, But the servant in waiting may usher us in. We enter the house to be welcomed there, To recline on the sofa or rich easy chair. The walls have their beautv and elegant art That tell of his culture, the choice of his heart ; — Rare scenes from old Scotia the land of his birth, Who never forgets her in sorrow or mirth. Who crossed the broad ocean ere long to become The lord of this farm and this beautiful home. And there on the table expensively bound The Book of all wisdom may ever be found. While on the rich volume another may rest. Of all his prized volumes tha rarest and best. The gift of his mother in days of his youth That lead him to God and the fountains of truth. But turn from the room and its treasures so rare And gaze, my kind reader, at scenes over there. The Bay has awakened as if from a sleep , 'i^^ ' " ^ And all the low valley is now a greivt deep, • - • -"^ THE HOMt: AND INMATES. 11 rare While over the flats in the maddest of glee A roaring tide pours from the limitless sea. A dozen white sails have just come into sight, The canvas reflecting the cheerful sun light. Far over the waters the blue summits rise And grandly repose 'gainst the northern skies. Away to the west where the fleetest tides run A mountain appears which the earliest sun Oft kisses and fosters, while low at its base The cold vapors creep and enwrap in a haze The trees on the shore and the boats on the Bay, Till risen orb pours the beneficent day. But southward extends near the flow of the tide, A strong dyke protecting its sea-beaten side, A broad, marshy plain of the fruitfulest soi), With constant rewards for the laborers' toil ; While nearer the homestead above and below Are marshes as rich where the salt waters flow. Around the white house fertile acres are seen, And through the great trees with their foliage green The barns are descried that await autumn store, While the garden you see through the half open door, The fruits are there growing in warm summer hours And a corner is gay with the choicest of flowers, 12 ALLAN GRAY AND HI8 DOITRI^. The orchard is small, but the keeper well skiled And generous, the trees bring their annual ) ield. The useful and elegant/ claim each the care Of the owiler of farm and this scenery rare. But hark ! for I fancy I hear her now come Who gives kindly welcome to cheerfulest home ; A grasp of the hand and a canny survey Of stranger who comes and invited to stay, We may count ourselves happy to reach this retreat From glow of the sun and the dust of the street. The lady we've mentioned is Mrs. A. Gray, Whom Allan has cherished for many a day ; (Good Allan, our host, whom the people call ' old,' Because there's another of whom you'll be told ;) She brought him that wealth which the canny Scots h^ek From morning of l^xonday till end of the week ; A favorite daughter who got due reward For years of care-taking and filial regard. Her slight forward stoop and her silvery hair Plainly speak of the toiling, the watching and care That change early beauty to glory of years, And win due respect as gay youth disappears. She's cheerful and kind and she's simple and true She's prized by her friends by the old and the new. THE HOME AiO INMATES. 13 Though comfort she knows is the fruit of long care, With the poor and the thriftless she ventures to share ; The Saviour's example a great beauty hath Which binds her to Him in a living strong faith. Though age brings its wrinkles as life has its woes, Her life has the fragrance exhaled by the rose, Which charmed by its beauty while summer hours sped. And still lives in sweetness though faded and dead. Old Allan is lithe for a man of his age. And able still bravely the battle to wage, In which he has fought for near seventy years,— The battle for riches. Wh'tt reason for fears Has Allan, who honestly pays all he owes. Enjoying by night sweet, unbroken repose ? Good All?.n, who taxes his crops and his gold To help on the church, and the poor, and the old. His accent is broad ; and quite broad are some views Which Allan has found. He can rarely refuse To attack the grim tory or foe of his kirk 5 He's rather in favor of radical work. He revels in history : — where will you find Among common people a better stored mind ? He marks with pure pleasure the truth's sure advance In l)iarbarous India or infidel France. 14 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. ! t ' The crescent's slow waning, the power of the cross. For dear to his heart is the great Master's cause. But Janet, his cousin, we must n't forget, Who long here has tarried, submitting to fate That doomed her to squander the years of her life As nobody's mother and nobody's wife. From Scotia she wandered to visit the Gray's, And still far from Scotia the visitor stays. We mention this Janet ; — she plays a small part In the story we tell, and displays her small art, A maker of matches that refuse to succeed. Who gets in due season her place and her mead. And, finally, 'mong the good folk of the house We reckon a child who's been mute as a mouse, — A sweet little Allan with dark curly hair, Grandfather's delight and gi-andmothet's one care ; A cheery young sprout, of whose parents we'll rhyme More fully and freely some subsequent time. But first we miiy see that our future is hid. And learn to be willing by Grod to be led ; The mystery trace which His purposes hold. While wisdom we gather more precious than gold ; And as we advance on the pathway so dim, Still give all the praise and the honor to Him. CONCERNING ADOPTION. 15 CHAPTER II. !d; CONCERNING ADOPTION. OOD Allan had acres, and buildings, and cash, And strong, willing servants to plough or to thresh, And Janet oft helped on the busier day The mistress, when Allan was gathering the hay Or reaping the acres of ripening wheat ; But often they sighed for the noisy, small fe6t That iattled and banged in a neighboring home, Making music that rings where the little folk come. For Allan and Sarah were childless, you know, I cannot tell why, but affirm it was so ; And Allan resolved for himself and his spouse To entice a live boy to enliven the house. A brother he had whom kind Heaven had blest With children ; and often it must be confessed He wished for more land when he needed more faith In the wisdom that gave us our being and breath ; He couldn't discover for many long days Why his were the children, the wealth Allan Gray's. 16 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. I I So Allan applied for the much-needed boy, And won him by promise of many a toy ; — A stirring young sinner, as needn't be told, More precious to Allan than thousands in gold, Who chafed in his cage like imprisoned bird, But ever gave heed to his uncle's firm word. His parents, with foresight that cannot be blamed, For Allan the childless their hopeful boy named ; And marked without sorrow affection grow strong Tween uncle and aunt and their treasure, though young. As winters gave leisure, young Allan was brought To master the branches in village school taught, Displaying an aptness that charmed the good man, Who extended the course and adopted a plan That favored the boy with a broader survey Of the treasures of science than poverty may Attain, He advanced for the fees and the board At college from mon^y long, carefully stored. A pleasure he saw in the training of mind Which misers in millions in vain strive to find. He shared with the youth from the hoards of his gold, Thougn others would gather and selfishly hold ; And, spring after spring, as the students would part^ COXCEUNING ADOPTION*. 17 The nephew would gladden the uncle's fond heart Or puzzle his brain with a curious doubt Which science puts in, but which sense may put out. For fashion induces some lads of eighteen To question conclusions which sacred have been ; And men live to-day who all nature have trod, Without once discovering the wisdom of God, Men able to argue, assert, and confound, With assurance that rarely can claim solid ground. Not many months after 3'oung Allan was caged, And grief at the change was quite fully assuaged, A woman was seated beside Mrs. Gray One warm afternoon of a warm August day ; A little girl rested and gazed round the room — The elegant parlor of Mrs. Gray's home. She told her sad errand, and all about Nell • The motherless child, and what sorrow befell. She said she must move to a far distant state. And leave little Nell to an orphan's sad fate. The kindness of friends or the charity cold Of worldlings who live for the worship of gold. Good Allan was called and he asked all about The little dark eyes which had peeped in and out From views on the wall to the view of the tide, ■ 18 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. That filled all the space to the distant Bay side. The woman grew bolder, for Allan was mild ; She told the sad tale of the destitute child. Her mother a widow — a Mrs. M'Dure, A school teacher's widow, neglected and poor, Gave Nellie to me, and a pleading glance cast, For, struggling in death, she away from us past We laid her away where our buried lie. The church she frequented is standing close by ; The house and the garden have paid every bill ; But Nellie is here ; and though bound to fulfil A promise I made to the mother who died, I'd gladly my charge to another confide. She knows lots of hymns, and her music oft rings When nobody listens and dear Nellie sings. Her mother, I've heard, was a daughter of wealth ; Affection too strong had advanced in its stealth 'Gainst will of her father, who grieved at her choice, Thus spoke to his daughter with wrath in his voice : " Begone, if you will, you need never return, The door shall be barred, and my passion shall burn." She wept for her father ; her mother was dead ; But resolute, left him, her lover to wed. A teacher he was, and our boys knew him well, CONCERNING ADOFIION. 10 For many a Btory about him they tell ; But friends had designed that good Andrew should be A minister. Very reluctantly he Abandoned their schema and the life in the kirk, And spent useful years in the humbler work, Which gives busy hours with the girls and the boys, 'Mong whom he found cares not unmingled with joys. He crossed the great ocean before this child's birth. And scores of good people can tell of his worth. A brother of Nellie's has found a good friend On whom the fond parent could always depend. He's learning a trade, and I came here to ask If Nellie you'd deem a too burdensome task ? You need the poor child and you'll never repent, What's given the poor to the Lord's only lent. She ceased in her pleading, her case was quite won ; She wept for the orphan ; but ere she had done The Allans agreed to befriend little Nell, To feed her, and clothe her, and treat her quite well ; And when a week passed she came over to stay. And sing her sweet hymns to the kind Allan Gray. Twp trunks, the small treasure of Nellie bereft, Reminded the child of the home she had left ; — A treasure more precious than e'er she had thought, 20 ALLAN CRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. Which wrought in due time a great change in her lot. The woman who brought her to home of the Gray's Was happy indeed ; and she hoped that the praise Bestowed on the orphan would prove more than true, And wished well for Nellie :-^kind reader, don't you ? li' ! ... ' iiii iii^ LIFE OS THE FAllM. 21 CHAPTER III. LIFE ON THE FARM. #^ ^p1' N comfort the lad and the lassie now dwelt, 0)^1 And kindly the Qray's with the young people ^^^ dealt, ^ Young Allan we've shown as a student who got Along with some learning, some troublesome doubt That vexed older people and never could please The parsons who came to enjoy a day's ease. But Allan and Nelly were favored indeed, And Allan and Sarah received a rich mead For their care and their patience, their labor of love, And looked for a richer in heaven above. It has been the rule from beginning till now, That man earn his bread by the sweat of his brow ; And the earth which was curfjed on account of man's sin, A scene of hard labor through ages has been. Where villages, towns, and great cities now rise, Once forests or deserts oflended the eves ; But man's perseverance subdued the broad wild, And never in vain have the diligent toiled ; 22 ALLAN ORAV AND HIS JOUDTS. IIP ! The marshes and uplands have recompensed care, Productive possessions the acres now are. The Gray's owned a farm and its vahie well knew, The well cultivated old farm of Bay View, And won by their efforts from heavy, dark soil An ample reward for their patience and toil. The annual returns of the clover and grain Brought abundance of food and the coveted gain "Which Allan invested ; and Allan's hard cash Was rarely subjected to a treatment less rash. A harvest he'd gather from stock, and the yield Might double in time all the crops from the field. The weeks of the spring, when the sun first unbound The earth from the fetters that held all the ground, The farmers quite hopeful upturn the dark sod, And after the harrow they patiently plod ; Or on mellow ridges that feel the sun's heat. Cast freely the seed of the barley or wheat ; Or fill the long furrows with muck from the byre, Which rose all the winter still higher and higher, That rows of potato, or turnip, or beet May promise return in abundance complete. For never did Allan expect from his land I LIFE OX THE FARM. 23 A harvest that paid him unless liberal hand Had first from the barnyard well fattened the soil On which he bestowed so much watching and toil. And well he selected the grain to be sown, That grain and not weeds might thereafter be grown. Betvi^een the broad fields and the public highway He raised a strong fence which protected his hay And his grain, his potatoes and turnips so fine From his neighbor's strong cattle, or rambling, rude swine ; And never a quarrel with neighbors arose From low rotten fences to words or to blows ; He slept sound by night, and he hopeJ. that not vain Were efforts put forth for the clover or grain. When August drew near and the ripening hay Demanded attention on shore of the Bay, Their scythes and their rakes were repaired with due care. And soon the broad meadows were mown and quite bare; The grass withering quick, and the warm summer blast Soon drying the swathe as it *. irriedly passed. The harvest for grain in due season came round, And wealth in the sheaves by the farmers was bound. 24 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. 'li :if!:' "!:! The V. aggons then groaned with the loads for th^ barn, And busy were all from the earliest morn Till shades of the evening invited to rest, And the crescent moon shone o'er the hills of the west. The roots were soon gathered, not left to be lost By sudden approach of the sharp, biting frost ; And apples were carefully plucked from the tree,, If left undisturbed by the rough autumn bree^.e. The care of the stock now the farmers engaged, While winter came on and the storms often raged ; But winters short days were quite busily passed, The men oft exposed to the frost and cold blast That pierced the dense forest and bellowed aloud. As the farmers kept felling their rails and the wood. And as the months flew on the fleetest of vring. By summer or winter, by autumn or spring, Good Allan and Sarah instructed the youths, And Allan and Nellie stored common sense truths. The boy ere long mastered the husbandman's art, And took in the labor a large, manly part. In holding the plough or in swinging the scythe ; For Allan gi'ew strong and his movements were lithe. The maiden was mistress of turkeys and geese, And made sweetest butter or helped with the cheese, LIFE ON THE FARM. 25 As older she grew she assumed greater care ; And happy indeed weie the fostering pair, Who saw, as their years were now hurrying by, •"'le growth of the girl and the favorite boy : And gave thanks to Heaven that rarely with pain, They saw what they taught uniraprov<^d remain. ' ii 26 ALLAN GRAV AND HIS DOUBTS. CHAPTER IV. i I ■ A YOUNG HERETIC. KNOCK Allan heard at the oaken front door, Old Allan, of whom we've been speaking before And Nellie, now one of the tidiest girls, With eyes quite bewitching and dark, glossy curls, Announced to her Ma, Hev. Roderick MThail ; From Greenock in Scotland, he lately set sail. The Gray's w^ere delighted and pressed him to stay. Got news from old Scotland ; and asked him to pray. When weary they grew though the houi*s had quick sped; Then said their good night and, quite soon in their bed, Old Allan and Samh transported in dreams, Saw braes that were green and the purling clear streams. And greeted oft friends who the ocean ne'er crossed, Or grasped the warm hand of the loved and the lost. Next morning young Allan, now rising eighteen, Accompanied Roderick over the green, A YOUXC, HERETIC. 27 I teen, And showed him the Basin and spoke of the tide, And named the small isles which the stranger espied, With frequent enquiry that told of the thought Which Allan the younger from study had brought, With occasional opinion which others might deem A heresy, harmless but pleasant, — a dream. But soon he grew bolder and dared to advance Philosophy tolVable. doubtless in France, Till Roderick alarmed for the safety of truth, Turned all his artillery upon the rash youth. " It's wicked, young man," the grave Roderick said, " To doubt the good book in which long you have read." " I doubt not the book," the meek student returned, ** But lessons which from it some people have learned; The God who hath made us is infinite, wise, He clothed the broad hills and bespangled the skies, But worked thro' the ages and finished the plan When nature stood waiting the Sovereign, man." " The Bible's inspired, how dare you dispute ?" Cried Roderick, " truth unmixed, truth absolute; And Moses plain makes it to child and to sage, Creation was work of a very brief age. In six days the Lord made the heaven and earth, Gave plant and gave animal earliest birth ; «i 28 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. ii'^ |ln I Profane are the men who now speak of huge bones And fishes and reptiles oft found in the stones ; The Lord He hath power and put these all there To question his power we never should dare." " His power," Allan said, " is surpassingly great, The grandeur is His of a royal estate ; But the record of rocks has abundantly proved, The Builder of worlds has but gradually moved j From granite that burned to the green, grassy sod, Was a period long in the being of God." The preacher grew red and indignantly turned His eyes on the student ; — " What granite e'er burned ? You reader of books ; leave all nonsense like this To worldly-wise people who heaven may miss. The science which teaches what Moses denies The Christian to-day may afford to despise." " The faith," then, replied the philosopher, bold, That tramples on truths which the wisest men hold, Is faith mediaeval too weak for the day Which patient considers what science may say." " And read your good Bible," the preacher advised, " Avoiding grave errors as truths oft disguised." Then parted the wranglers, each strong in his mail, Convinced that the truth would yet surely prevail ', A YOUNO HERETK^. 29 Id, Aged Roderick brave for the literal truth, Young Allan, with boldness peculiar to youth, Defending true science which, often deplored, A handmaid may be of the faith of the Lord ; Oft bringing from nature, as from a deep mine. Rare proofs of the breadth of the wisdom divine. MThail's visit ended, but after some weeks Another good stranger — a Mr. Dix — seeks The home near the wood, the old home of the Gray's, And charmed all the family by winning, kind ways. Our doubter, young Allan, soon ventured to tf^lk, And notions defended were felt as a shock By the kindly old man. The young sinner attacked The doinffs of Joshua in a manner that smacked Of modern endeavor to ruin the Book, To which all good people for wisdom aye look, " Why slay the defenders of Canaan of old ?* Cried Allan ; " the story of cruelty told, The barbarous treatment accorded to them Awakes in my bosom a passionate flame, Which burns all the hotter, as often I've heard The conqueror smote by command of the Lord, Deceived and fanatic and thirsting for blood Were men who there swept a relentless dark flood ; 30 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. The God of the Christian has Tnercy for all ; No longer inspired can we Joshua call." Poor Nellie was sorry, and Sarah was loud In wrath Against the student, so daring and proud. The clergyman paused as the heresy ran ; To an*est the strong stream he then calmly began : — • " Your sentiments speak of a generous mind, Which even for error attention would find ; But, pardon me, Allan, men older than you Receive all the Bible as historv true, And deem the hai'sft treatment by Joshua given As righteous infliction. The Rider of heaven Had long borne with Canaan s dark guilt, For long in the land of rare plenty they'd dwelt. They grovelled in sin and they burned in their lust. Before the false idols they bowed in the dust. Crimes blacker than night ever darkened the land, Despised were the warnings and works of God's hands ; His wrath in a storm on the rebels then broke, Few lived to submit to the conqueror s yoke." The student attention had cheerfully given. But not from his stand could he ever be driven. Believing that Israel extended his might Like Mahomet false or the middle-age knight, A YOUNG HERETIC. 31 Who'd bring all the world to the rule of the Lord, By argument sharp, by the spear or the sword. He added convictions which questioned the truth Of much which we've heard from this Joshua's mouth ; Till Allan the aged returned from the field And the lips of the talkei-s in silence were sealed. But Allan the 3'ounger told Nellie his mind, And failed not to notice the manner so kind. That sweetened the truths which the clergyman spake. But Roderick's manners served only to break The force of the logic he might well employ In making truth strong for the sharp-witted boy. While cold, chilling clouds ever button our cloaks, The breezes may bend even sturdiest oaks. We capture great elephants, captivate mice ; Strong men bind the former ; but boys in a trice Secure the small burglars by exquisite cheese, As promptly as huntsmen their game 'mong the trees. Let nimrods henceforth who to em'nence would rise, Discriminate always 'tween mammoths and mice. 32 ALLAN GRAY AND HLS DOUBTS. CHAPTER V. DOMESTIC AFFAIRS. HE lad we've called Allan was becoming a man, And bright out before him his life's jouipney ran. The probable heir of the farm of Bay View, A fact which the ladies as well as he knew. No wonder it was if our Allan became The reason for many a flutter and flame. E'er since in old Eden our Grandmother Eve The happiness tasted which union can give, Some women have dreaded no trial so great As blessedness single. The marriage state They enter, considering its bitter or sweet The prize of all prizes, the best prize they get. A youth with broad acr but rarely survives The kindness of those who intend to be wives. But falls before arts which the cunning girls ply To secure the broad acres and promising boy. The cousin — the maiden of whom we have told. The Janet aforesaid, now forty years old. Had ceased to consider the place of a wife As only place honored in woman's short life. DOMESTIC AFFAIRS. 33 But while for herself she relinquished the prize, She always took pleasure in opening the eyes Of bashful young folk who were loosing the chance Their earthly position to farther advance. For Allan she plotted, though Allan was bold And needed but little of all that she told To win for his acres a maiden's regard ; Yet Allan seemed obdurate, careless and hard. Our Janet attended quite often the church Where Methodist Christians for wisdom aye search ; She sang the loved hymns which the other folk sang, And seemed to possess a decided 'penchant, (That's French for " a leaning," but many folk lean Who only respect or civility mean.) She heard the young preachers, who knew by her looks She'd been a disciple of Calvinist Knox ; She heard the old men who besought us to call Upon the one Saviour, the Saviour of all. But Janet's old prejudice tougher than steel. Could sing the sweet hymn but it never could kneeL The wife of the leader, who gave her a seat, Soon found opportunity Janet to greet : And Janet acquaintance quite cheerfully made With Mrs. Dulait, the good wife aforesaid. 34 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. is II I ■ IIS':' A daughter there was — a Miss Mercy Dulait, Who welcomed our Janet and asked her to stay, As often she called on her Methodist friend, And Sarah young Allan for Janet would send ; Exposing the boy for the sake of old Jean. But Allan was prudent, and though but nineteen The maker of matches did'nt catch him asleep, Or ready at first into fetters to leap. But dropping tliat's constant may wear away stones ; And Allan ere long with a blush or two owns, The Methodist people are rather nice folk ; And mercy was mercy without any joke To a lad in great need of a companion kind, true. On the rough way of life which we all must go through. He never refused to the cousin the hour That gave to his eyes a brief glance or two more Of the modest young lady ; — he sometimes would stay And waste hours of small talk on Mercy Dulait. He gradually yielded to exquisite charm, Was deemed somewhat mellow, imprudently warm. Old Allan had loved when old Allan was young ; In all the boy's flirting he kept a still tongue. But secretly wished the return of good sense, And warned the brave boy, while he gave no offence ; .1 'f * DOMESTIC AFFAIRS. 35 While Sarah was quiet, and did'nt yet know How far in the business Allan might go. An eloquent preacher had come to the place — A Mr. O'Brieny — who'd brook no delays, But have a revival at the end of three weeks, Or possibly not till the labors of six Had spent all their force 'gainst the barriers of sin And let the good Master or Methodist in. He hungered for converts or proselytes raw, And made special efforts the young folk to draw. No honor brought he to the " Church of the Poor," •' The people called Methodists " prone to explore The high-ways and by-ways for wandering sheep, When parsons or preachers neglectful may sleep. The work was begun and the meetings grew large, And drew even strength from the neighboring charge, Which old Mr. Gray had supported for years. With not a few hopes, but with many sore fears. Though broad in his views and quite willing at times To give of his dollars while others gave dimes, He furious grew and awoke from his sleep When he learnt that O'Brieny was culling his sheep. A month had scarce passed when the angry old man Was further convinced of the worth of the plan, 30 ALLAN CJRAY A\D HIS DOIJHTS. i ' By which in dear Scotia believers were found, More firmly than ever his judgment was bound. These farmers, the Grays, had just threshed out their grain Which in the great mows in all safety had lain, And locked eighty bushels of oats in a bin. Assured that no neighbor could ever get in. Alas, for the oats which were heavy indeed, The wonderful oats which the people would need To seed mellow acres ; — when spring came around -A harvest of dollars was sure to be found. The bin was of wood, and the grain was soon tapped, The strong-hold of dollars was stealthily sapped. But Allan discovering the draught from the bin, Believed that the thief he might possibly pin. A hole through the boarding he found had been made, 'Tween boarding and bin by a noose he essayed To snare the rare genius who, working by night, Had hitherto kept quite securely from sight. The ruse was successful, the thief was soon caught, And into the glare of old Allan's lamp brought. But what was his horror a convert to meet Who'd recently gone to the penitent seat, A member received as a trophy of grace, DOMESTIC AFFAIRS. 37 Thouo^h * rojjuish ' was written all over his face. For the sake of religion and also the wife, Old Allan there vowed if he led a new life, No naoie with the story should ever be heard ; And Allan has generously kept all his word. O'Brieny and company were bound to do good : Attacks of the world the revival had stood ; But selfish religion which robs other folds. The seeds of its »*uin within itself holds ; Like rock of the mountain whos3 fissures embraced The roots of the maple, which sheltered and graced Its storm-beaten form to be riven at length, * In spite of its bold, unassailable strength. And hurled in disgrace to the plain far below. Where quiet brooks murmur and gentle winds blow. Old Allan was troubled, the prospect was dim, The cup of his trouble was up to the brim ; — His nephew, bewitched by the Methodist lass ; The children of Knox before other folk's brass Grown feeble ; — he dreaded the turning of coats, And hadn't forgotten the tale of the oats. Kesolving to visit and see for himself, He pocketed hymn-book that lay on the shelf ; For Allan, though Scotchman, occasionally heard 38 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. i!i 1' The Methodist pastor expound the good Word. He entered the church and there he .^oon saw Proceedings which jarred all his feelings of awe. The lamps all ablaze and the audience great, The preacher, emboldened, began to dilate On the virtue of doctrines that long stood the test, Compelling the guilty from east and from west To own themselves saved. He then dared folk to prove The scheme of the Calvinist, Sovereign love ; In language well chosen, deceiving the crowd Who, silent or careless, to eloquence bowed. Old Allan was nervous and not very meek, Not long he endured the kind urging to speak ; And gradual the flame that had smouldered within Broke out in a blaze, making terrible din : " John Wesley, the sainted, his motives how pure, Brought down the rich gospel to homes of the poor, And taught the neglected the sweet, holy way Which Christians had followed for many a day. But what shall we say of the dastardly men, The wolves who now prowl or the bears from the den, Who hunger for mutton which honest men feed. And show the whole world how insatiate their greed ? The Churches to-day have each lost their fold, : i DOMESTIC AFFAIRS. 39 it mi A crowd of good members, ensnared by the bold And cunning deceivers who cannot give bread, But devour the good people whom others have fed," Then Allan applied the strange lesson he taught To members which here were but recently caught ; And faithfully warned the few children of Knox, "1 hough past were the daysof thumbscrews and stocks, The man who deserted the banner of blue, Would certainly yet present folly all rue." Impatient the preacher endured the stern blast, And hoped that each sentence was surely the last. " Sit down, Mr. Gray, came at length from the chair, " Sit down, you old man," a great trouble you are. While Allan was trembling with feeling or doubt, A muscular brother advanced to put out The brave old defender of orthodox ways, ^Gainst customs adopted in wise latter days. " Just touch, if you dare," a strong Baptist then cried Who knew his stern worth, and had sat at his side. Meanwhile the weak vessels were taking alann, And rose to escape from the rising dark storm ; Till Mr. O'Brieny who all but had caught A dozen fat sheep or lambs, suddenly got In a passion, denouncing the wicked old man hU 40 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. Who'd shrewdly exposed his benevolent plan, And broke up the meeting to some other time, Descending ridiculous from the sublime. Our hero secured the respect of the folk WhoVe called Presbyterians ; the hardy old oak Grew firmly, recovering the perilous shock ; And many then saw the great strength of its Rock. But Allan's rude tempest extinguished the flame That burned for his nephew. The circumspect dame Advised her good daughter to henceforth eschew The heir of the soldier with bonnet so blue ; And soon the odd joke was oft heard in the place, The convert of Mercy has fallen fro^w grace. And Janet saw plainly, as also have we, That shrewdest of schemes may oft sink in the sea. But daily the w^aters continued to flow, And daily, too, seaw^ard they turned them to go ; Or flowing or ebbing as year after year The white-winged ships on their bosom appear. But Allan the younger, though somewhat * at sea,' Wasn't stranded or beached on the shore of that bay Where lovers have grounded, but rode out the blast. The voyage proved luckless, but wasn't his last. <( OLD SAW AND YOUNG FILE. 41 CHAPTER VI. OLD SAW AND YOUNG FILE. NOTHER long winter young Allan had spent Among the good people, on learning aye bent, Q Progressing in knowledge of science and men, ^ At expense to the uncle, to Allan great gain. Respect for the Scriptures was somewhat restored, Though nature's proud barriers had never been lowered. Yet Allan was generous, — a brave, honest boy, Almost for the uncle a source of pure joy ; For Allan the elder was leaving to grace The work which our power can never embrace. And listened to fancies advanced by the youth, Convinced that in time he would bow to the truth. The student was shrewd, and he easily saw How often our bows 'gainst each other we draw, And roused the attention which promptly may wait. When youth, needing light, would a weighty case state. " Religion's a blessing which all the world needs : Before its mild progress all evil recedes ; And yet, when you read that the church with the cross Has met among pagans great trouble and loss : If 42 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. W i'l Or, when she may fail to control folk at home, You joy in the sorrow that pierces old Rome. When men with devotion as true as your own, Your families find in the backwoods alone, And tell them the story of Heaven's great love, You fear the sleek preachers you cannot approve. When farther, they tell us we all should abstain From brandy and wine, which ten thousands have slain. Lest by our example the simple should fall, Why, preaching like this some fanaticism call. Some would rather that people still walk the broad road Than be brought by the Methodist homeward to God." The student was silent, the uncle half pleased, And promptly the pause of the speaker he seized. " When Rome gives the gospel to ignorant men, She gives a false gospel, a system of gain Which pleases tlie taste, but still leaves the dark mind Unblest with the joy the forgiven nmst find. We honor true zeal in the Temperance cause. And render abstainers their mead of applause ; When men of devotion as true as is ours. To seeking lost sheep are surrendering their powers. We'll wish them God speed in the noblest of work, And watch well ourselves all the members of kirk." OLD SAW AND YOUNG FILE. 43 Young Allan considered the answer quite brief, But, resuming discussion, expressed the belief Acquired while a student fiom junior divineg Who hope soon to grasp ecclesiastical reins, " That raanv great preachers employ half their time Not saving from sin in a mission sublime The outcast or fallen, but bolstering up creeds, Neglecting to give what the world ever needs. Still uttering the dogmas of former dark age. Words written for children, but not for the sage Who reads the bright volume fair science has given, An honor to mind and an honor to Heaven." • The uncle felt Allan was getting too deep. And though he was weary in need of sweet sleep. Advised the bold youth to beware of the rage That seeks to uproot, in this infidel age. The glorious old tree that long sheltered our sires. Oppressed by the state, dreading martyrdom's fires. He showed the importance of keeping the truth For the comfort of age and the guidance of youth, Maintaining that trifles in which we're not one. Have worth to the conscience while earthly years run ; And telling the thinker, the church has no need Of men who'd repair a confession or creed. ft I' i 4*4 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUUTS. Defending the preachers wl-.o lionor the Past, 'Gainst char<;8 of neoflectinLC the world's moral waste* He ended advice by a pers'nal appeal That spoke of a Saviour, and Allan grew still. The family entered, and all in the room Soon joined in the worship that hallowed their home ; — The wife who had given these acres and hearth, The cousin who knew all her kindness and worth. The student who helped in the long summer days, The quiet young maiden whose beauty won praise. Old Allan bowed low in the presence of God, And offered the thanks which as creatures they owed. He prayed for the young and he prayed for the old, And prayed that the story might ever be told, Of the grace of the gospel, the grace of the Lord, And that the sweet story might ever be heard. He prayed for the day when the church will be one, And kingdoms be governed by God's dearest Son ; He prayed that the truth might advance and be strong, And that all the ransomed might join in the song, ' Salvation and honor be unto the Lamb ;' :Ascribing all praise to the blessed I AM. And then they retired to refreshing, sweet sleep. Assured that good angels them safely would keep. LOVE AND LOfJlC. 45 CHAPTER VII. LOVE AND LOGIC. OT far from the home of tlie good Allan Gray, On acres well tilled, and in sight of the Bay, CsA Lived farmer DeWolfe with his children and •^ wife. The farmer loved hooks, and he spent half his life *Mong tomes of the learned, enriching his mind. He feared not the great, to the poor he was kind ; He honored the clei-gy and read the good book, While many a lesson from nature he took. He knew the Grays slightly, the young and the old, But a friendship arose and the tale may be told. The wife of the farmer was fond of rare flow ■;, And kept some abloom in the bh^ak winter hours. The woman called Janet had specimens strange, Which sometimes with neighbors she'd kindly exchange ; And when the good wife of the farmer once came, Her devotion to flowers soon fanned into flame A friendship for Janet, a friendship indeed. And each gave the other of slips or rare seed. ... I lil I II; ^^t fill u 46 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUFfS. In time the two families together were bound, And each in the other enjoyment true found ; Though Allan, the Scot, kept a wary look out, And of the new friendship had many a doubt. But Janet his cousin was carried away. Prospecting a match for the the youth Allan Gray. The farmer's bright daughter had heard of the boy, And Janet oft spoke of the old people's joy In Allan, assuring the lady that Janet would hold The old people's acres, their home and their gold, Unless the poor child who was taking their name. Expected more cash than she justly could claim. She praised the young man and she told of his worth, And not all in rain was the effort put forth. In the course of the summer young Allan became Acquainted with Lelia. Ere long the mysterious flame That burns in the bosom and lives by its fire Had seized on the youth, and while higher and higher It flamed, he abandoned himself to his fate, Expecting relief to come early or late. But long did he suffer from the exquisite pain. And sought from the lady again and again The answer decided, consent of the heart, A pitiable victim of woman's sly art. 11^^ ' n rher LOVE AND LOGIC. 47 For Lelia was beautiful ; Allan well knew That fairer than Lelia, the maidens were few. He gazed on her features, their symmetry shone And ruled all admirers as if from a throne ; Her dark, flashing eyes and abundant dark hair Awoke admiration, or doomed to despair The men vhom she smote with the passion called love. And then the was tall, quite a hand-breadth above The other joung ladies ; an exquisite mouth ; And all her rare beauty was mantled with youth. Besides she was heiress to cash or a farm, And that wis a hope which had worked like a charm. When her jyes flashed with love on the gay, eager beaus:. She made tlem each happy, and nobody knows How many lad dreamed that his subsequent life Would ere hng be blessed. Miss Lelia his wife. But Allan wt,s favored, and won more regard From Lelia md parents than all of the herd That courtec the company of maiden so fair With feelings quite different from hopeless despair. And Allan g»t ease from the painful suspense In which thk gay lady had held him e'er since :l| i. I S 48 ALLAN rJlUY AND HIS DOUBTS. Her beauty had kindled the passionate glow Which rhyme can't describe, but which most people know. The farmer whose daughter the youths alladmired, Was more than a farmer ; he eager desired To drink from the fountains which science points out, And the volume inspired to him wisdom had brought. In the progress of truth 'mong the millions around, A source of pure pleasure the good man hid found : He saw wl!th a thrill of unselfish delight The victories gained by religion's clear liglt ; He hoped for the day when the churches is one Would work altogether for God's gracious Son. He saw the time coming when the east ani the west From war's sad commotion would win a long rest ; And even could say that his heaven wouU prove No heaven for him, if the great work of love Had not been proclaimed to the millions h sin, As safety provided for all fallen men. The farmer in Allan a hearer soon found, Who sometimes would startle and sometines confound By questions proposed by the victims of iloubt ; But soon the old student would skilfully rout LOVE i\Nn LOiilC. 49 The armies of error and vanquish the foes Whom ignorance fears and intelligence knows. You question, young doubter, the source of a book On which as their standard religionists look. Who cherish beliefs that are never the same, But widely dissimilar ; — could men ever frame. You query, these systems so various, some odd, From Book that was written by the Spirit of God ? I answer : — The systems are man's, all the errors are his; Though Heaven ne'er errs, men may blunder and miss The meaning which Heaven intends to convey, And darken the truth, though as bright as the day. When ravs of the sun are all fallino; around The objects once colorless, color have found ; The grass and the w^ater, the clay and ripe grain Absorb their own rays, and by others are seen Their forms or their beauties. And thus is white ray Of truth dirtiest brown or the dingiest grey ; Each reader adopting as much as may please, And leaving all natural notions at ease ; A system soon rising, which reason approves, And man, unenlightened, ardently loves. The Word unimpeded by notions of man, Reveals to our reason a heaven- wrought plan, I 50 ALLAN GRAV^ AND HIS DOUBTS. Which wisest philosophers never had known, Which stands 'mong the wonders of heaven alone. But prejudice blinds and our passions rebel Against the strait road which the gracious love well, And choose other paths that may lead far astray From the blessedness found on this narrow, safe way. The seed of the Word has abundantly grown, And fruit has been gathered in every zone ; No year in the past but has shown very well That life and that strength which in gospel truth dwell. From frost of the north, from the isles of the south, From age in its wisdom, from reverent youth, Has come through the years that already have flown. A great cloud of witnesses honoring the Son ; There bow to his sceptre the saved of all lands, They walk by His grace, they obey His commands. And thus did this teacher defend the good Book On which for their doctrines the sects ever look ; And other objections were speedily found To rest for support on untenable ground. The youth thanked the farmer for line upon line. Admitting the claims of the message divine. Thus Allan was lectured and now and then brought To see the true way which the sceptic ne'er sought ; LOVE AND LOGIC. 51 He felt himself beaten by logic and love, But yielded submission, as follow'ing days prove. He encountered but rarely the man of ripe thought, But unlearned some bad lessons the sceptics had taught. He cultivated love for the beautiful girl Who'd given his feelings the marvellous whirl. And waited for weeks, losing hopes that brought easCi For Lelia had others to honor and please. •1 |i ; 52 ALLAN (illAY AND IliS DOlJirfS. I CHAPTER VIII. II k\r lis LOVE AND LUCRE. HEN leisure would come, and th.e work on the farm <^^^ Relieved our young hero, he sighed for the charm * ^ Which Lelia DeWolfe exercised o'er his heart, And played o'er again all the lover's gay part. He waited on Lelia with patience and taste, And was of admirers the favored and best. The parents, convinced of his worth and his cash, Advised their fair daughter to avoid being rash ; And, taught by their wisdom, she used silken bands To bind williuix Allan, if not the rich lands Which common report said belonged to young Gray, — The farm and the house by the side of the Bay. They rambled o'er garden and culled their choice flowers. They rested at noontide 'neath shade of green bowers, They filled all the cv^ening with music and song, And didn't regard it improper or wrong To indulge now and then in the innocent bliss Supposed to exist in the true lovers kiss. LOVE AND LUCRE. 6n We take this for granted, for nobody saw, And gainst lover's kissing ijnite powerless is law. Besides it is doubtful if old folk forbade A practice which precedents always has had ; But i^ave the vounuf folk just a little more swinij Than some would consider the right proper thing. Thus Allan was happy, nor wretched was she ; It seemed that for marriage they yet might agree. The odor of roses was filling the air, And bright was tlie prospect seen everywhere, But clouds soon obscured the light of their sun, The course of atiection ceased smoothly to riin. The wife of the farmer, a woman of worth, Had fondled Miss Lelia from day of her birth ; She loved her fair daucjhter and tauj^ht her with care, And built many hopes on the beauty so rare. Now finding; a market, she business meant. And stated conditions of willing consent. That roused the fond lovers from dreaming of bliss ; And showed how his prize this young Allan might miss. Old lady De Wolfe was aware of the fact That the wealth of the Grays, by a little shrewd tact, Might all be secured to the nephew's control. That Lelia would thus bo tho mistress of all ;— ALLAN GRAY AND IIIS DOUDTS. |l '^' A position of pride which to beauty's all due. She made no delay : very soon Allan knew How hopeless the prospect, how very unjust The condition ; his castles were brought to the dust. To rob the young girl who a sister had been Of inheritance meet, would be shamefully mean. She never for years less affection deserved Than Allan the nephew ; she'd patiently served ; Not Nellie M'Dure, but their own Nellie Gray, Entitled to part of the farm by the Bay, Or share of the gold which the parents possessed, When parents had gone to the Christian's long rest. But still the gay lady could not be forgot, And passion for Lelia more misery wrought Than when her affection, uncertain and coy. Was not yet possessed by this favorite boy. He reasoned with her and he spoke of the worth Of Nellie. To rob her ! he'd sooner go forth And earn among strangers the bread which he ate Than subject the poor girl to so cruel a fate. But Lelia was silent ; and Allan was sad. And feared that the matching was gone to the bad : He left the fair girl ; and the weeks were not few That passed ere as lovers each other they knew. LOVE AND LITCRE. oo Surprised was the youth that the adorable felt No interest in Nellie with whom he'd long dwelt ; He saw not the avarice that covertly lurked, For, blinded by passion, suspicion he burked. When old Allan Gray and his wife heard about The state of the case, they were somewhat in doubt Respecting the view, which the nephew might take Of Nellie's just claims when his hopes were at stake. They sounded their nephew with caution and tact, To find how the youngster would probably act. And great was the joy when the loving old man Found Allan resolved to abide by the plan That gave the poor girl who a sister had been A share of the gold or the acres so green. He praised his regard for the orphan child's claim ; On Mrs. De Wolfe lay the burden of blame If Lelia deplored the decision, which gave The portion to Nellie which Nellie must have, And broke up a friendship which ripened so fast — ■ The blindest foresaw that it never would last. He then with all kindness advised him to wait. Take God for his guide though a union came late. He promised ere long to confer by a deed The estate which awakened the old ladv's G^reed, i 66 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOaiiTS. !i I ■ M f r 111 '^^. Excepting a sum to be annually paid, Till low in their graves he and Sarah were laid ; And the sum to be given to Nellie M'Dure, The sweet orphan girl, once neglected and poor. And Allan the youngster who'd acted the man, Approved of the plan ; and again and again Gave thanks to the uncle for future intent, And hoped Lelia's mother might wisely relent, Surrendering the beauty with dark, flashing eyes, With cash or possessions that men don't despise. A hope quite uncertain ; this woman of mind A cause for relenting scarce ever could find. But Neliie, who heard of the state of the case And Allan's decision, was lou-l in the praise Of the noble young man who a brother had proved, Preferring her claims to the lady beloved, While Janet, chagrined at the mother's strange greed, Knew well her friend's project could never succeed ; She saw that the flame which she'd kindled with care Miirht soon all evanish like smoke in the air. CONCERNING PRAYER. 57 CHAPTER IX. CONCERNING PRAYER. HE season was summer, and busily wrought The farmers and servants. Experience tauglifc, ' Make hay while the sun shines,' whoever neglect May meet broken weather to chide and correct. They toiled in the morning, they toiled all the day, They felled the dense clover and gathered sw'eet ha3\ The warm air was fragrant with scent from the swath, The tide ebbed away in the Bay to the north, Or rose with a sweep over flats growing dry, 'Neath the iAow of the sun in the clear summer sky. The bobolink sang in the cheerfulest mood. Oft filling the field with melodious flood. Oft cheerinc: the listcninff sons of hard toil Engaged in securing the wealth of the soil. The Graj's always welcomed the chosen and sent, And, after hot hours, though quite weary and spent, They not only welcomed the kind Mr. Dix, But urged him to linger a couple of weeks. I f 58 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. ! j; it i 1^^ I m One evening- Allan expressed sundry fears That science discouraged the ofiering of pi-ayers, And di'ew from his friend some stroni:j reasons that sway The old-fashioned folk Avho continue to pray. The people called Christians are wont to enjoy Communion with Him who now finds best employ hi upholding- the millions that look for his aid, Or i>overnin<^- tlie worlds which His goodness has made. They love Him not only because they depend, But also because He is Father and Friend ; Filling hearts that are empty, until the warm glow Of purest afiection His nature may show. The union becomes quite as real, as blest, As that Avhich on earth may in fondness exi«t 'Tween parent and child ; occupying the soul With object all Avorthy while happy years roll. In exercise sweet which devotion affords, The enjoyment is ours, wdiile the glory's the Lords ; Unless from our love He a revenue draw. Or find holy pleasure in reverent awe. If the Bible be true — and the infidel tries In vain to becloud our bright hopes in the skies, — CONCERNING TRAYER. 59 The people of God have in seasons of prryer Enjoyed sweet assurance of tenderest cave, That stooped from the glory of heaven above, In order to look on His children, and prove His faithfulness lasting, and ready His ear, "When up to the throne their petitions they bear. Go look at the man who for Israel pled When the murmuring rebels fronr Egypt he led ; Go look at the prophet afliirted and grieved. The captive who knew that the covenant lived Which promised a Prince and a vSaviour to men. Relief from captivity, sorrow, and sin ; Go look at Apostle Avhom prayer released When en'mies of Jesus His servants oppressed ; Consider dispassionate, and learn that God hears And heeds when His people are otfering their prayers. But many of late are by science perplexed. Which deems all the universe stable and fixed, Adndttini"- no chansje in the a<:>'es that roll, That blessinjT: mioht brin^- to man's bodv or soul. Think you that the Architect working on high, Whose wisdom contrived man's delicate eye, Adopting the lenses with skill which designed To bridge the great gulf 'tween all matter and mind, <■'■!' t U \i i III n m\ W ■I i ^' :.| ;J|i( .L'f' 60 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. Has made the broad universe fixed and unchanged, His creatures from sympathy ever estranged, Because the strong laws that encompassed His plan, Excluded due scope for intelligent man ? Think you He is bound by unalterable fate Who wheels the round sun and the planets so great, Unable to answer with comfort and cheer. When creatures dependent oft raise earnest prayer ? Think you that the mind which all nature has filled With a medium till lately unmastered, unsealed. By which round the globe the fleet messages dart, The medium a servant of skilfulost art, Heart throbbing with heart o'er mysterious wire. And echoing promptly the uttered desire ; Think you the Creator no medium could find. Through wdiich to hold intercourse gracious and kind With millions once bearin^: the imaofe of God, And still though poor sinners with i-eason endowed ? The scheme of your Tyndalls scant freedom has given To subjects on earth or the Ruler in heaven ; Events are all chained to a rigid decree, And only dead matter is active and free. The humblest believer that names the great name. From depths of his nature the truth would proclaim, CONCERNING PRAYER. «1 That God his good Father aye sits far above This order eternal, enthroned in love Which feeds the dumb creatures on land, in the deep, And knows in His heart when an infant may weep. ' Young Allan grew honest ; he even could dare Admit nature's God had permitted man's prayer. I 62 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. i. i (i ■Mi II m M at' if' CHAPTER X. UNDER THE ROD. i^'ONG years had elapsed since these Gra^^s liad once felt The stroke of ill fortune ; and urateful thev knelt. Like plants in the spring they expanded and grew ; The husbandman watchful tlieir progress well knew. Though man was well pleased with the yearly return, Some lessons tliere were which the worldly must learn ; Some branches that needed the keen pruning knife, Some roots to be strengthened by troul)le's rude strife. Old Allan had cherished a Scotchman's respect For Scotchmen : — respect which is lothc to detect The failings and faults that may mar other men, And render them subject again and again To crosses and losses. Old Allan supposed These Scotchmen so canny were rarely ill bruised. By the ordinary shocks that may trouble the trade, So wisely foreseeing, so shrewdly arrayed. But Allan was clannish, and one at least knew To iret rather more than a Scotchman's full due. UNDER THE ROD. 63 A bland son of Scotia, an architect famed, Of whose bhindei'-makin;.': nobody had dreamed, Had overspent trying his patrons to please, InvolvinLT old Allan and neighbors of his In tronble as bondsmen, reducinof theii' cash By planning and altei'ing, improper and rash. Old Allan re[)ented of generous aim, Resolving hereafter his life so to frame That ])land, hopeful, Scotchmen might never again Subject him to loss, with consideral)le pain, Of a thousand hard dollars. And Allan intepds To be quite discreet in the matter of friends. But trouble more serious and trial severe, Distracting v\'ith gloomy and anxious fear. Soon after befell ; and for many long days A home of attiiction was the home of the Grays. Foi' God when He comus His good people to try, Continues to work till (piite pure to liis eye They shine. When the silver's well melted by fire. The smith in the olow may well see and admire His features exact ; and thus Heaven would find In depth of our trials rare beauties of mind, His own moral beauty, true spiritual worth Instead of the sin and the dross of the earth. T 04 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. >\y'] m. iif'-'V I Younor Allan had vi*:jor and Allan had stren^^bh, And labored and sweated through summer days length. But health is a treasure more easily marred Than men of rare vigor have usually feared ; And the strong arm of youth was unwilling to ask For needed relief from a difficult task, That spent fast his powers and opened the way For months of re^fret for neixlect and delay. The peril unknown a slow fever came on, And gloomy hours passed ere its course was quite run. Long, wearisome hours when the sufferer sank. And from a full cup all the bitterness drank ; Long hours for the friends of the young and the old When o'er them the waters dark pitiless rolled. And the clouds grew as black as in storm brewing night. With neither the moon nor the cold, starry light To remind those who grope amid sorrow and care Of the wise, oruidino: hand which is every where. At times when the fever afflicted the brain. And weak was the patient who long had low lain, The watchers alarmed at the coming of death. Sought help from the Keeper who grace ever hath. And left to His wisdom the body and soul. Assured that diseases must own His control. Wm UNDER THE ROD. 65 And bui'flens grew lighter on long, gloomy day When mercy was asked for the sick Allan Gray. The fever relented ; and wasted and worn, The sufferer descried in the far coming morn Some gleams of his hopes, and the mercy was praised Which seeks for the sinner contrite and abased. For Allan was almost submissive to truth ; He thought of the arm which had shielded his youth, Providing a home with its comforts not few. And tenderly guarding his early years through. But Sarah evdeavored with christian intent, To change the strong will unsubdued, unbent, And spoke of the Father, who sickness may send To teach His beloved their w^ays to amend, While rousing the careless and making them think Of the evil of sin and the perilous brink. But vain seemed her words, and as vain all her tears. For Allan had few of the old lady's fears, And these he reserved in a rather cool way, That didn't encourage his aunt Sarah Gray. But Allan half playful, half serious, would Occasionally talk, showing Nellie his mood. That not all in vain was the trial now past, ISot all unconsidered the interests so vast. 6 CO ALLAN GIIAY AND HIS DOUP.TS. It^ " And why do you start at the coming of death ?" Asked Allan; "you never have wakened the wrath, That burns 'gainst the wretches who, impious despise And break through the laws which are holy and wise." The thoughtful young lady whom thus he addressed Was puzzled for answer, no little distressed To see Allan Gray whom the fever had spared Advancing old notions not recently aired. " We've broken those laws which are holy and wise, And poor, fallen sinners may never arise To claim from their Maker exemption from guilt, Except through the blood for the guiltiest spilt." " I cannot believe that the Ruler above, Whose plans are so wise, and whose nature is love, Will banish to regions of endless remorse The fallen 'mong men, but the sentence reverse." " Oh ! Allan, reject on the nature of sin ; Should God to his presence but once welcome in This spreading disease, the disease of the soul, A deluge of evil o'er heaven would roll." "^Now Nellie, you're preaching; where, where have you been ? You're growing too pious, you charming young (^ueen," ^^ UNDER THE ROD. 67 " You may not get better except with great care, You ve had good advice and the earnest heart's prayer. It makes us unhappy to hear you talk so.". " I'm getting much better, I've been very low ;— I'll talk again, Nellie, don't mind what I say : We'll speak of these matters on some other day. *:;? )i 1 1 V m ALLAN GHAY AND rilS DOl/m'S. hi CHAPTER XI. OLD FRIENDS FOUND AGAIN. HE weary days passed as/ the friends oft enquired For Allan ; some saw him and oft these admired The cheerful demeanor, which bulwark-like broke, Or breasted the storm like a stanch forest oak, And threw out its branches o'er others who stood But frail, trembling trees in the tempest-smote wood. For Allan had vigor ; — his star of hope shone In darkest of nights, though oft dim and alone. Among those who sorrowed for young Allan Gray "Was fariner DeWolfe. Though his daughter was gay The farmer was tho'tful ; he knew the youth's worth And blamed the decision which erst had gone forth. His wife's selfish terms for their daughter's fair hand Kegretting that women can't always be grand. He called on the family and spoke words of cheer "Which fell unexpected on listening ear. The Grays were relieved and the friendship returned, Though mother and daughter together were spurned ; |i. OLD FRIENDS FOUND AGAIN. m For Allan had lost as the youth grew more wise His great admiration for flashing, black eyeij, And gave up a chase wiiich had promised to prove The blindest of folly, the maddest of love. He chatted awhile with the farmer ; he felt That as man of honor this farmer had dealt. B«t nobody asked for the daughter or wife, And rebuked, he withdrew with a cloud o'er his life* The warm-hearted family of neighbor Dulait Oft asked for the health of the sick Allan Gray ; And, passing one day as a thunderstorm broke, The mother and Merc}^ the liberty took Of entering the home while the heavy drops feli, Omitting for once fo consult noisy bell. Yet both felt a tremor ; they hadn't forgot The strength of the gale when old Allan grew hot. But happy was Sarah that time had returned When friendship revived and old neighbors had learned To forgive or forget the offences 'gainst taste, The words rather pointed and uttered in haste. The men, too, were happy to hear these Dulaits And often enquired for them during those days When Allan's life hung by a very frail thread, And vigor was wasting on wearisome becL I I 70 ALLAX GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. As the young people chatted, good Sarah declared How grateful all were that the lad had been spared. While Mr. Dulait gave due credit to nurse, That Allan the patient had never been worse. Old Allan confessed thev oft needed a rod, That all was a gift from the mercy of God. When the clouds broke away and the happy sun shone. The friends separated, a new life begun, Damp mists and estrangement subdued by the ray That warmed christian hearts in December or May ; The fire of tnie love which ought ever grow bright, When trouble around us has cast a cold night. Young Allan and Nellie were pleased to recall The lingering past and the friendship thus all Awakened. For Mercy was gentle and kind, Admired by her seniors for beauties of mind. So Nellie, half earnest and half in mere joke, Made hopeful allusion to friendship long broke. And said aghd Sarah had need of a stay, Who'd help and encourage in life's weary way ; A shelter in sunshine, a covert in storms, A friend with affection in peace or alarms, As pure as the soul of a creature can be. As stronir as the love which must render us free. ^^F ■^ OLD FRIENDS FOUND AGAIN. 71 But Nellie wound up ere the climax she turned, And Allan inquired why her eloquence burned. The youngster a humbler attachment had formed, And nobody asked by which lass he was charmed, As neither the modest girl, Mercy Dulait, Nor Lelia De Wolfe had bound young Mr. Gray. He once formed the acquaintance of a quiet, sweet girl, Then destitute, homeless, alone in the world. With features admired, with intelligence rare. Which shone out more bright as she womah became, And added respect to affection's strong flame. He marked how she served when disease had laid low The hopes of her friends ; Then he saw her sad go Through mazes of trouble, when others were sad, And drink of the joy when others waxed glad. He saw in her person a beautiful child To womanhood grown, whom the wayward and wild Must honor and love : — for the sake of her charms. Forgetting all others, * in sunshine and storms,' He'd loose himself, cherishing fondness most pure For the orphan befriended, for Nellie M'Dure. 72 ALT. AX riRAY AN'D HIS DOUBTS. CHAPTER XII. THE UNFINISHED LETTER. HE decision of Allan was patiently made, Though of a refusal he was not afraid, The decision to ask for a heart and a hand To share still his home and the broad, fertile land. And Nellie, who always a sister had proved, Was pleased to discover herself now beloved By Allan, whose home by the maidens was thought To be of all homes the desirable spot. Indeed the rare friendship of both the young folk Unconsciously ripened, and only few took Alarm. When first Nellie suspected the fact And saw that an orphan had grace to attract The beaux whom oft others had striven to snare. She smiled on his fancies, but nursed her despair, And yet in the conduct of lover and maid. The stream was so gentle, that few could have said Where ended the friendship and where now begun The passion which ever has friendship outrun, Transmuting the coldest, and calming unrest. Or making the shrewdest more wise and more blest ; THE UNFINISHED LETTEIi. n Though neither the won nor the winners have known That life has more joys than our griefs can atone. Ere long the grave eye and the circumspect ear Of parents detected a flutter and stir ; But Allan the aged and Sarah his wife Allowed a fresh breeze to encourage the strife. They gave their loved nephew the coveted deed, Soon settling the business with prudence and speed ; Thus giving the man, if his wishes so led, A chance and a reason Miss Nellie to wed. The time now sped rapid, contentment came down, And all other blessings received the rare crown ; The aged were hopeful, their cares were forgot. And Heaven was praised for the peace of their lot. But Janet was wroth ; she would never admit That match with poor Nellie was going to fit. Predicted much trouble, and frequently sought By meddling to bring her predictions about ; Till wearied of folly, the Grays with regret, Resolved that the lady should speedily get A home in the distance, if there she could find One where matches might better agree with her mind. A berth was secured, she to Scotia returned, But how she succeeded nobody has learned. Mil I M M fill }!:^5lli^' 74 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. The summer had closed and a cheerless sun beamed Through leaden, grey clouds, which but cold mourners seemed. When plaintively o'er ghastly acres of wood, Fitful winds sighed 'mong beautiful maples grief- bowed. Men pitied the leaves while they trampled them down. Deploring the fate of the purple and brown ; And evergreens wept when the pitiless dust Came seeking the delicate painting and rust. Our Allan and Nellie were sauntering one eve, Slow back from the spot where the plaster-men thrive When both in the garb of a sailor espied A school-mate of old, just arrived with the tide. With joy was he nearing again his dear home, And hurriedly told, as he paused in the gloom. Of meeting and parting with Allard M'Dure, (He liked not the sea, and some comrades allure,) A youth about twenty whose parents were dead, With locks of a dye rather ' candy ' than red. Away went the stranger, but lef-j,ving a word Which lingered : the maiden's sad bosom was stirred With emotion that hungered and fed on the past ; The news was a ray driving gloom from a waste. -n, THE UNFINISHED LETTEK. 75 When enterprise renderi our merchants too brisk, Then life is a chattel for mammon to risk ; So Nellie was thankful that down in a mine A brother might share in the mere}' divine. The winter now went and the home was surprized By Nellie discovering what Nellie surmised Was a letter, the last which her mother received, Containing some hints which were hardly believed. Our dreams are poor idiots ; they babble and sing, But sometimes an idiot has said the right thing. She dreamed that she found in her parent's old chest A lettei* from home, where for years it might rest 'Mong papers and books, a last word from the dead, To a daughter disowned o'er whom the heart bled. Awaking in tears, she resolved to be sure That dreams are but dreams 'mong the rich or the poor. But vivid impression could not be defaced ; — To chest long unnoticed she stealthily paced. And there from a corner, from behind a large book, The veritable letter she eagerl}'- took ; The last ever seen b}^ the mother long dead. Just opened, some sentences hurriedly read. The writer began with reflections severe, That smote the lone sufierer, and drew bitter tear, , I i; ; I! V'i ■ ?Si"' |ij|i 70 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. In weakness she laid the harsh letter awav, Reserving the reading for following day ; But death lon<]c desired to the sick room had brought Relief and repose which this life offered not, And closed weeping eyes ere the weeper had known How much for her orphans affection had done, The letter ten years in deep silence had lain, And all its affection was speaking in vain ; For neither the daughter who wept bitter tears. Nor children whose poverty wakened her fears, Suspected that parent relenting, grown kind, Had left them by will, as hereafter we'll find, A fortune quite ample, and mentioned indeed To the widow there dying in sorrow and need. Old Gray conned the pages, quite prone to believe That Nellie a jointure might live to receive ; While Sarah, less sanguine, no vision of gold Could see in epistle neglected and old. The lassie considered when other folk spoke ; The nephew regarded the * find ' a mere joke. But Allan the aged, quite keen for the prize, Determined to seek, and applied for advice. Truth stranger than fiction may dwell in a dream, Our life in the dust owns a wondrous regime. fcMiTrniirMiiiiiiirjii^m THE UNFINISHED LETTER. 77 A Methodist brother, a zealous, true man, Had heard of the ^^ossip that gathered and ran. In presence of him the shrewd uncle affirmed, Mr. Dix's one remark had the children both charmed ; " They love God, and not only because they depend, But also because He is Father and Friend." A prize is before us, and mercies that suit ; Free grace waits the lonely, the tried, resolute. No man in his senses can own to embrace, That nullifies reason for strife in the race. Some assume no change in the all wise design, That saved or left : Heaven's good choice is not thine. But plans, which for ever o'er nature may range, Were formed by the mind to which nothing is strange, A bird or a bee through the trackless, still air, A fish in the stream, — both struggle and dare, And man high endowed to observe moral laws, Is free in the path of approval, applause ; Yea free in this warfare, this struggle with death That follows us all till our life's latest breath. Could not He w^ho formed or chose laws w^hich now bind, Find suitable laws for both matter and mind ? 1 1 78 ALLAN GRAY AND HIS DOUBTS. I I And has not the wisdom that orders each life, Proposed to awak?n within us a strife Commensurate, strife 'gainst the legions of sin, Till the last foe retreat and the Spirit come in ; Come in, all richness, the house and the throne Becoming His dwelling, His kingdom alone. The planet may feel the small satellite's force, Yea, the satellite alters the mighty orb's course, And both wield a power o'er the ruling, strong sun, Thoiifjh both are not gfreat for the wonders thus done. The monarch may pause the weak beggar to aid, And God hath deep pity for man whom he made. Ere the ages now passing began first to flow, He provided a day's man ; and all men may know That the goodness which listens when dumb creatures cry, Will not long allow our petitions to lie Unheeded, unanswered. The soul hath a worth Exceeding the jewels and treasures of earth. God waiteth for faith, may desires large expand, And may we, when favored, acknowledge His hand, The wealth of the miser must load or consume, The light from the cross may our darkness illume. p THE UNFINISHED LETTER. 7f) The grace of the gospel is calling for each, The wounds and the warnings entreat and beseech. Our friends may be foes and our tears may be hid, But blessed are souls, in themselves lost and dead,' Discovered by mercy, convicted of need ;— Never doubt, then, of mercy ; such beggars can plead. n ' m 80 ALLAN GRAY AND HLS DOUBTS. CHAPTER XII L MR. BLANK'S VIEWS. [iiiiHi-i' took the tloor with a twinkle and glance At Allan, the elder, who sheathed his dull lance. ^ " Some words tie up meanings like wares in a pack. In danger some pilots aifirm you must tack. A sailor's experience would send him to Booms, A servant might think of new carpets and brooms. The makers of ' pumps ' for our sociable feet, Intend no obstruction to springs on the street But shoes for lig^ * pedals have rarely put down A tank or a tankard that steadied a crown. * Tacking ' never can mend half the ills of the soul. Unless penetration care well for the whole. ' Tacking' never can cross either ocean or streams, As long as the currents are puzzling the whims Uncurbed by bold captains and meek, worthy mates, By altering their rudders, their tempers, and dates. Beware of sma!* fish and beware of the scales, Which woi'di honest mc. when intc-'ritv fails. fill mj:. blanivS views. SI s, Tlio' conscience loves pliiiwler; — turns boosy at times, Confoundinn- the .sweet] i ess of duty and dimes." He rose with much jokinL;' and gravity swelled, But graver became when the nephew appealed. The elder had reasoned (piite well, had quite led ; The scholar, loath, nuisingly, said that the bread Would 'eat' just as sweetly if teachers would tiy To escape from the 'fenders, and into the fry. " How can you be sure that the world did begin, Ere the Era of Moses, to circle and spin ?" Because, my young friend, our experience shows Creation is ivorklag. Creation may close Ere man be pjermitted to speak of the gloom Which once consecrated his primitive home. Unseen and uncounselled, the One Architect planned While coolimx orbs shrank and extended demand For pei'iod on period, abysses profound ; — This shore atibrds quiet ; those seas have no bound. Our volume of Truth, like the Sabbath for man, Discusses the useful ; and Science ne'er can Assail the true teacher, because he st* ' tries To bring the one subject to hearts and to eyes, 82 ALLAN' CRAV AND HIS DOL'iri'S. '■""• AvoicIin<' irrelevant matter which tends To fortify doubt b}^ o'orloading her friends. * The suns never rise, never chan«3^cs the moon,' !May come from a doubter, but not a poltroon. The earth was once forn^less, creation Jjpgan, But creation is forralng according to plan. We cannot confound the grand vision long past With Book that instructs the now fallen, possessed. The gold wliich is dust or the gold which appears May turn mica, sulpher, — yea very cheap wares. The eagfle tliat soars where the thunders are mute. Has learnt among hill-tops the rolbng salute, Which scatters tlie vapors or searches the brooks. Until the sharp crags are familiar, strong nooks. * Make hay while the sunshines,' supposes that grass Requires dittbrent tr mtment from marble or brass. The storv of autunui has touches of wit. From which polar hearens no pleasure can get. The words of the wise are both hammers and claws, And fools can find coppers where others find straws. Dethrone human pride and re- visit the poor, Oh ! Thou who hast wisdom, whose mercies enduio. l^ispel clinging vapors, the fumes of the pit, And in the Lamb's Book lot our names all be writ. Ml!. HI.ASKS VIKWS. sa Instead of retieatin;., tlie ladies prepared To hear tl,at young Allan was softened or scared- He bowed with respect to tiiis lover of youth And hung for a while on each word fr„,„ his mouth Most ■ inwarook The ari^uments specious, tliat troubled some friend, And found wlien instructed tlieir reason and trend. A stiident and preacher liad lingered for days, A<,n-cea)»ly too, at tlui home of our maze. A weary day fanned irreligious lore, And mountains crawled seaward in want of a shore. " In course of my studies I've frefpiently paused In presence of proof that religion has lost By cherishing strife 'gainst the elft)rtH of men In love with true science. To many 'tis plain That nebulotis matter, when chanixes beiran, Had qualities not understoo) Nobody who studies the 'gait' ( ^ Can wonder that Sarah, the mis THE NEEDLESS ALARM. \!Sr(,\F Mr. McPhail was both earnest and true, ci^ ji And Mr. L. Dix could bid sharply adieu, of the pair, mistress, had care. Our friends have grown weary of polishing Brown, Now Avith the good Methodist may they come down To matters domestic. The nest has grown cold ; Our flights have been variant, humble thoucfh bold. Wlicn lovers find cash where no cash has been left, Then surely o'er waters there's drifting some ' craft.' The Grays as we've seen Avere aware of a will That promised a heap of good things. But until A friend of the family ' speered ' well the case, Their hopes never foimd a reliable base. Keturned from the city, old Allan news brought, Which Nellie considered with interest fraught. At table next morning his story he told, And favored his friends with a vision of gold. Our lawyer, lie said, when the facts were received, Deputed a man who in Scotland lung lived ^r^x. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) I.I 1.25 125 1.^ |50 *^ li KS 1^ 1 2.2 li 1.4 m 1.6 %■ •^ -/. y /^ -4i>^ V iV <^ I f w 92 ATXAX (;R\Y A\1> TflS DOTTp.TS. f '1^ To seek for the uncles, and let it be known That Nellie, their niece, to a woman now grown, Desired the acquaintance of cousin and aunt, If rarest of favors politeness could giant. Encouramnjx echo from diirnitv came, For almost forgotten was Nellie's poor name: The child of a sister who pardon had sought, "Whose marriage condemned, little comfort had brought; A cliild whose changed prospects regard might ensure Withheld from the destitute Nellie M'Dure. This friend of our lawyer discharging his task, Proceeded at length the grave question to ask, " Would cousins extend her a cousin's warm hand, Should Nellie, the orphan, e'er reach the old land V Affirmative answer by cousins was given, Tho' pride for a while with affection had striven. The enquirer had also, as Allan believed, By reliable modes at criteria arrived : — In short, Nellie and brother 'bove twenty years old Were heirs with some cousins to no little gold ; The time had elapsed when, according to will, Those uncles must rise and their duty fulfil, Conveying to each, as the document read, Three thousand pounds steiling with interest till paid, THl:: NEKDLKSS AhAHM. 03 In case of tho death of the inotbev of both, Or violate trust undertaken by oath. As Allan related the lawyer's success, A smile of contentment broke over his face ; The wife of his bosom was lathcr well pleased, And Allan the youth with ambition was seized ; While Nellie could hardly believe Mr. Oray, Whose prudence she'd trusted for many a day, Was wroncr in affirminof her claim to the dower, As the dauo^hter belov6d of widow M'Dure. She doemed herself rich and acknowledged by friends Who never had seen her, late making amends For the coldness awardeu the mother forgiven, Just when to be taken from sorrow to heaven. Aware that her cousins far over the sea Had known of the mother whom death had set free, She longed to encounter the glance of their eyes, To tell of her mother, for whom she would rise And prove to her cousins, the Martins and Blairs, That deep in her nature a likeness she bears. Remembering how she had come to the Grays, So lonely and poor till they'd gladden'd her days, She clung to their home as she clung in the past, By wealth undisturbed, by virtue bound fast. m 94 ALLAN (JllAY AND HfS DOUHTS. I ¥ She found on inquiry that months ere his end, Her irrandfather Martin had vowed to befriend The daughter lonjr sliijhtod, and bound both his sons ' To remember their sister and her little ones. Not quite reconciled to the sister once rasli, Reluctant to draw from their business the cash Which the children wouhl claim if their lights were but known, No effort was made and no interest was shown In behalf of a sister whose marriaj^e brought grief, Whose letters ha