Chapter 14

Here, upon a semicircular ledge of rocks, over a narrow chasm, of which the tiny stream played in a murmuring waterfall, and divided the congregation into two equal parts, sat about a hundred persons, all devoutly listening to their minister, who stood before them on what might he called a small, natural pulpit of living stone. Up to it there led a short flight of steps, and over it waved the canopy of a tall, graceful birch tree. The pulpit stood in the middle of the channel, directly facing the congregation, and separated from them by the clear, deep, sparkling pool, into which the scarce-heard water poured over the blackened rock. The water, as it left the pool, separated into two streams, and flowed on each side of that altar, thus placing it in an island, whose large, mossy stones were richly embowered under the golden blossoms and green tresses of the broom.

At the close of divine service, a row of maidens, all clothed in purest white, came gliding off from the congregation, and, crossing the murmuring stream on stepping stones, arranged themselves at the foot of the pulpit with those who were about to be baptized. Their devout fathers, just as though they had been in their own kirk, had been sitting there during worship, and now stood up before the minister. The baptismal water, taken from that pellucid pool, was lying, consecrated, in an appropriate receptacle, formed by the upright stones that composed one side of the pulpit, and the holy rite proceeded.

Some of the younger ones in that semicircle kept gazing down into the pool, in which the whole scene was reflected; and now and then, in spite of the grave looks and admonishing whispers of their elders, letting fall a pebble into the water, that they might judge of its depth, from the length of time that elapsed before the clear air bells lay sparkling on the agitated surface. The rite was over, and the religious service of the day closed by a psalm. The mighty rocks hemmed in the holy sound, and sent it in a more compact volume, clear, sweet, and strong, up to heaven. When the psalm ceased, an echo, like a spirit's voice, was heard dying away, high up among the magnificent architecture of the cliffs; and once more might be noticed in the silence, the reviving voice of the waterfall.

Just then, a large stone fell from the top of the cliff into the pool, a loud voice was heard, and a plaid was hung over on the point of a shepherd's staff. Their wakeful sentinel had descried danger, and this was his warning. Forthwith, the congregation rose. There were paths, dangerous to unpracticed feet, along the ledges of the rocks, leading up to several caves and places of concealment. The more active and young assisted the elder, more especially the old pastor, and the women with the infants; and many minutes had not elapsed, till not a living creature was visible in the channel of the stream, but all of them were hidden, or nearly so, in the clefts and caverns.

The shepherd who had given the alarm, had lain down again instantly in his plaid on the greensward, upon the summit of these precipices. A party of soldiers was immediately upon him, and demanded what signals he had been making, and to whom; when one of them, looking over the edge of the cliff, exclaimed, "See, see! Humphrey, We have caught the whole tabernacle of the Lord in a net at last. There they are, praising God among the stones of the river Mouse. These are the Cartland Craigs. A noble cathedral!" "Fling the lying sentinel over the cliffs. Here is a canting Covenanter for you, deceiving honest soldiers on the very Sabbath day. Over with him, over with him; out of the gallery into the pit." But the shepherd had vanished like a shadow, and, mixing with the tall, green broom and bushes, was making his unseen way toward a wood. "Satan has saved his servant; but come, my lads, follow me. I know the way down into the bed of the stream, and the steps up to Wallace's Cave. They are called, 'kittle nine stanes;' The hunt's up. We'll all be in at the death. Halloo! my boys, halloo!"

The soldiers dashed down a less precipitous part of the wooded banks, a little below the "craigs," and hurried up the channel. But when they reached the altar where the old, gray-haired minister had been seen standing, and the rocks that had been covered with people, all was silent and solitary; not a creature to be seen. "Here is a Bible, dropped by some of them," cried a soldier, and, with his foot, he spun it away into the pool. "A bonnet, a bonnet," cried another; "now for the pretty, sanctified face, that rolled its demure eyes below it." But after a few jests and oaths, the soldiers stood still, eying with a kind of mysterious dread the black and silent walls of the rocks that hemmed them in, and hearing only the small voice of the stream that sent a profounder stillness through the heart of that majestic solitude. "What if these cowardly Covenanters should tumble down upon our heads pieces of rock, from their hiding places! Advance, or retreat?"

There was no reply; for a slight fear was upon every man. Musket or bayonet could be of little use to men obliged to clamber up rocks, along slender paths, leading they know not where. And they were aware that armed men nowadays worshiped God; men of iron hearts, who feared not the glitter of the soldier's arms, neither barrel nor bayonet; men of long stride, firm step, and broad breast, who, on the open field, would have overthrown the marshaled line, and gone first and foremost, if a city had to be taken by storm.

As the soldiers were standing together irresolute, a noise came upon their ears like distant thunder, but even more appalling; and a slight current of air, as if propelled by it, passed whispering along the sweetbriers, and the broom, and the tresses of the birch trees. It came deepening, and rolling, and roaring on; and the very Cartland Craigs shook to their foundation, as if in an earthquake. "The Lord have mercy upon us! What is this?" And down fell many of the miserable wretches on their knees, and some on their faces, upon the sharp-pointed rocks. Now, it was like the sound of many myriads of chariots rolling on their iron axles down the strong channel of the torrent. The old, gray-haired minister issued from the mouth of Wallace's Cave, and said, in a loud voice, "The Lord God terrible reigneth!"

A waterspout had burst up among the moorlands, and the river, in its power, was at hand. There it came, tumbling along into that long reach of cliffs, and, in a moment, filled it with one mass of waves. Huge, agitated clouds of foam rode on the surface of a blood-red torrent. An army must have been swept off by that flood. The soldiers perished in a moment; but high up in the cliffs, above the sweep of destruction, were the Covenanters, men, women, and children, uttering prayers to God, unheard by themselves, in the raging thunder.

NOTES.--Lanark is a small town in the valley of the Clyde, in Scotland. It is thirty miles southwest from Edinburgh.

Mouse River flows to the Clyde from the hills north of Larmrk. Covenanter.--Under Charles I., the Scotch were so oppressed that they organized in resistance. The covenant was a famous paper, largely signed, in which they agreed to continue in the profession of their faith, and resist all errors.

Wallace's Cave.--William Wallace (b. 1270, d. 1305) was the foremost Scot of his times. He was declared, in the absence of the king, guardian of the kingdom. More than once was he outlawed and obliged to seek safety by concealment in the woods and caves.

XLIV. SPARROWS. (185)

Adeline D. Train Whitney, 1824--, was born in Boston, and was educated in the school of Dr. George B. Emerson. Her father was Enoch Train, a well-known merchant of that city. At the age of nineteen, she became the wife of Mr. Seth D. Whitney. Her literary career began about 1856, since which time she has written several novels and poems; a number of them first appeared in the "Atlantic Monthly." Her writings are marked by grace and sprightliness. ###

Little birds sit on the telegraph wires, And chitter, and flitter, and fold their wings; Maybe they think that, for them and their sires, Stretched always, on purpose, those wonderful strings: And, perhaps, the Thought that the world inspires, Did plan for the birds, among other things.

Little birds sit on the slender lines, And the news of the world runs under their feet,-- How value rises, and how declines, How kings with their armies in battle meet,-- And, all the while, 'mid the soundless signs, They chirp their small gossipings, foolish sweet.

Little things light on the lines of our lives,-- Hopes, and joys, and acts of to-day,-- And we think that for these the Lord contrives, Nor catch what the hidden lightnings say. Yet, from end to end, His meaning arrives, And His word runs underneath, all the way.

Is life only wires and lightning, then, Apart from that which about it clings? Are the thoughts, and the works, and the prayers of men Only sparrows that light on God's telegraph strings, Holding a moment, and gone again? Nay; He planned for the birds, with the larger things.

XLV. OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. (186)

Gardiner Spring, 1785-1873, was the son of Samuel Spring, D.D., who was pastor of a Congregational church in Newburyport, Massachusetts, for more than forty years. The son entered Yale College, and was valedictorian of his class in 1805. He studied law for a time; then went to Bermuda, where he taught nearly two years. On his return he completed his law studies, and practiced his profession for more than a year. In 1810, having studied theology at Andover, he was ordained as pastor of the "Brick Church" in New York City. Here he remained till his death. He was elected president of Dartmouth College, and also of Hamilton, but declined both positions. His works, embracing about twenty octavo volumes, have passed through several editions; some have been translated into foreign languages, and reprinted in Europe. As a preacher, Dr. Spring was eloquent and energetic. ###

The Sabbath lies at the foundation of all true morality. Morality flows from principle. Let the principles of moral obligation become relaxed, and the practice of morality will not long survive the overthrow. No man can preserve his own morals, no parent can preserve the morals of his children, without the impressions of religious obligation.

If you can induce a community to doubt the genuineness and authenticity of the Scriptures; to question the reality and obligations of religion; to hesitate, undeciding, whether there be any such thing as virtue or vice; whether there be an eternal state of retribution beyond the grave; or whether there exists any such being as God, you have broken down the barriers of moral virtue, and hoisted the flood gates of immorality and crime. I need not say that when a people have once done this, they can no longer exist as a tranquil and happy people. Every bond that holds society together would be ruptured; fraud and treachery would take the place of confidence between man and man; the tribunals of justice would be scenes of bribery and injustice; avarice, perjury, ambition, and revenge would walk through the land, and render it more like the dwelling of savage beasts than the tranquil abode of civilized and Christianized men.

If there is an institution which opposes itself to this progress of human degeneracy, and throws a shield before the interests of moral virtue in our thoughtless and wayward world, it is the Sabbath. In the fearful struggle between virtue and vice, notwithstanding the powerful auxiliaries which wickedness finds in the bosoms of men, and in the seductions and influence of popular example, wherever the Sabbath has been suffered to live, the trembling interests of moral virtue have always been revered and sustained. One of the principal occupations of this day is to illustrate and enforce the great principles of sound morality. Where this sacred trust is preserved inviolate, you behold a nation convened one day in seven for the purpose of acquainting themselves with the best moral principles and precepts; and it can not be otherwise than that the authority of moral virtue, under such auspices, should be acknowledged and felt.

We may not, at once, perceive the effects which this weekly observance produces. Like most moral causes, it operates slowly; but it operates surely, and gradually weakens the power and breaks the yoke of profligacy and sin. No villain regards the Sabbath. No vicious family regards the Sabbath. No immoral community regards the Sabbath. The holy rest of this ever-memorable day is a barrier which is always broken down before men become giants in sin. Blackstone, in his Commentaries on the Laws of England, remarks that "a corruption of morals usually follows a profanation of the Sabbath." It is an observation of Lord Chief Justice Hale, that "of all the persons who were convicted of capital crimes, while he was on the bench, he found a few only who would not confess that they began their career of wickedness by a neglect of the duties of the Sabbath and vicious conduct on that day."

The prisons in our own land could probably tell us that they have scarcely a solitary tenant who had not broken over the restraints of the Sabbath before he was abandoned to crime. You may enact laws for the suppression of immorality, but the secret and silent power of the Sabbath constitutes a stronger shield to the vital interest of the community than any code of penal statutes that ever was enacted. The Sabbath is the keystone of the arch which sustains the temple of virtue, which, however defaced, will survive many a rude shock so long as the foundation remains firm.

The observance of the Sabbath is also most influential in securing national prosperity. The God of Heaven has said, "Them that honor me I will honor," You will not often find a notorious Sabbath breaker a permanently prosperous man; and a Sabbath-breaking community is never a happy or prosperous community. There is a multitude of unobserved influences which the Sabbath exerts upon the temporal welfare of men. It promotes the spirit of good order and harmony; it elevates the poor from want; it transforms squalid wretchedness; it imparts self-respect and elevation of character; it promotes softness and civility of manners; it brings together the rich and the poor upon one common level in the house of prayer; it purifies and strengthens the social affections, and makes the family circle the center of allurement and the source of instruction, comfort, and happiness. Like its own divine religion, "it has the promise of the life that now is and that which is to come," for men can not put themselves beyond the reach of hope and heaven so long as they treasure up this one command, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy."

NOTES.--Sir William Blackstone (b. 1723, d. 1780) was the son of a London silk mercer. He is celebrated as the author of the "Commentaries on the Laws of England," now universally used by law students both in England and America. He once retired from the law through failure to secure a practice, but afterwards attained the highest honors in his profession. See biographical notice on page 410.

Sir Matthew Hale (b. 1609, d. 1676), was Lord Chief Justice of England from 1671 to 1676.

XLVI. GOD'S GOODNESS TO SUCH AS FEAR HIM. (189)

Fret not thyself because of evil doers, Neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity; For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, And wither as the green herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; So shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself also in the Lord, And he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; Trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, And thy judgment as the noonday. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him.

Fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, Because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass. Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: Fret not thyself in any wise to do evil, For evil doers shall be cut off: But those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth. For yet a little while, and the wicked shall not be; Yea, thou shalt diligently consider his place, and it shall not be. But the meek shall inherit the earth, And shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace.

A little that a righteous man hath Is better than the riches of many wicked; For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, But the Lord upholdeth the righteous. The Lord knoweth the days of the upright, And their inheritance shall be forever; They shall not be ashamed in the evil time, And in the days of famine they shall be satisfied.

But the wicked shall perish, And the enemies of the Lord shall be as the fat of lambs; They shall consume; into smoke shall they consume away. The wicked borroweth, and payeth not again; But the righteous sheweth mercy and giveth. For such as be blessed of him shall inherit the earth.

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, And he delighteth in his way; Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; For the Lord upholdeth him with his hand.

I have been young, and now am old, Yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, Nor his seed begging bread. He is ever merciful, and lendeth, And his seed is blessed.

Depart from evil, and do good, And dwell for evermore; For the Lord loveth judgment, And forsaketh not his saints; They are preserved forever: But the seed of the wicked shall be cut off. The righteous shall inherit the land, And dwell therein forever. The mouth of the righteous speaketh wisdom, And his tongue talketh of judgment; The law of his God is in his heart; None of his steps shall slide. The wicked watcheth the righteous, And seeketh to slay him. The Lord will not leave him in his hand, Nor condemn him when he is judged.

Wait on the Lord, and keep his way, And he shall exalt thee to inherit the land; When the wicked are cut off, thou shalt see it. I have seen the wicked in great power, And spreading himself like a green bay tree; Yet he passed away, and, lo, he was not; Yea, I sought him, but he could not be found. --From the Thirty-seventh Psalm.

XLVII. CHARACTER OF COLUMBUS. (192)

Washington Irving, 1783-1859. Among those whose works have enriched American literature, and have given it a place in the estimation of foreigners, no name stands higher than that of Washington Irving. He was born in the city of New York; his father was a native of Scotland, and his mother was English. He had an ordinary school education, and at the age of sixteen began the study of law. Two of his older brothers were interested in literary pursuits; and in his youth he studied the old English authors. He was also passionately fond of books of travel. At the age of nineteen, he began his literary career by writing for a paper published by his brother. In 1804 be made a voyage to the south of Europe. On his return he completed his studies in law, but never practiced his profession. "Salmagundi," his first book (partly written by others), was published in 1807. This was followed, two years later, by "Knickerbocker's History of New York." Soon after, he entered into mercantile pursuits in company with two brothers. At the close at the war with England he sailed again for Europe, and remained abroad seventeen years. During his absence he formed the acquaintance of the most eminent literary men of his time, and wrote several of his works; among them were: "The Sketch Book," "Bracebridge Hall," "Tales of a Traveler," "Life and Voyages of Columbus," and the "Conquest of Granada." On his return he made a journey west of the Mississippi, and gathered materials for several other books. From 1842 to 1846 he was Minister to Spain. On his return to America he established his residence at "Sunnyside," near Tarrytown, on the Hudson, where he passed the last years of his life. A young lady to whom he was attached having died in early life, Mr. Irving never married.

His works are marked by humor, just sentiment, and elegance and correctness of expression. They were popular both at home and abroad from the first, and their sale brought him a handsome fortune. The "Life of Washington," his last work, was completed in the same year in which he died. ###

[Transcriber's Note: See "The Life of Columbus" by Sir Arthur Helps,]

Columbus was a man of great and inventive genius. The operations of his mind were energetic, but irregular; bursting forth, at times, with that irresistible force which characterizes intellect of such an order. His ambition was lofty and noble, inspiring him with high thoughts and an anxiety to distinguish himself by great achievements. He aimed at dignity and wealth in the same elevated spirit with which he sought renown; they were to rise from the territories he should discover, and be commensurate in importance.

His conduct was characterized by the grandeur of his views and the magnanimity of his spirit. Instead of ravaging the newly-found countries, like many of his cotemporary discoverers, who were intent only on immediate gain, he regarded them with the eyes of a legislator; he sought to colonize and cultivate them, to civilize the natives, to build cities, introduce the useful arts, subject everything to the control of law, order, and religion, and thus to found regular and prosperous empires. That he failed in this was the fault of the dissolute rabble which it was his misfortune to command, with whom all law was tyranny and all order oppression.

He was naturally irascible and impetuous, and keenly sensible to injury and injustice; yet the quickness of his temper was counteracted by the generosity and benevolence of his heart. The magnanimity of his nature shone forth through all the troubles of his stormy career. Though continually outraged in his dignity, braved in his authority, foiled in his plans, and endangered in his person by the seditions of turbulent and worthless men, and that, too, at times when suffering under anguish of body and anxiety of mind enough to exasperate the most patient, yet he restrained his valiant and indignant spirit, and brought himself to forbear, and reason, and even to supplicate. Nor can the reader of the story of his eventful life fail to notice how free he was from all feeling of revenge, how ready to forgive and forget on the least sign of repentance and atonement. He has been exalted for his skill in controlling others, but far greater praise is due to him for the firmness he displayed in governing himself.

His piety was genuine and fervent. Religion mingled with the whole course of his thoughts and actions, and shone forth in his most private and unstudied writings. Whenever he made any great discovery he devoutly returned thanks to God. The voice of prayer and the melody of praise rose from his ships on discovering the new world, and his first action on landing was to prostrate himself upon the earth and offer up thanksgiving. All his great enterprises were undertaken in the name of the Holy Trinity, and he partook of the holy sacrament previous to embarkation. He observed the festivals of the church in the wildest situations. The Sabbath was to him a day of sacred rest, on which he would never sail from a port unless in case of extreme necessity. The religion thus deeply seated in his soul diffused a sober dignity and a benign composure over his whole deportment; his very language was pure and guarded, and free from all gross or irreverent expressions.