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Chapter XXXVII.

Dear Reader, have you ever been entranced by the overflowing tide of memories? Have you ever covered your eyes and given yourself up to the society of angels? Ah! if you be a musician you have—a player of the soul's great music. Thus I feel as I sum up the whole, and seek to write the concluding chapter. I have been playing Beethoven's "Adieu," and perhaps that has something to do with my entrancement; for ah! this is an adieu, both of my own and of my Heroine. My pen runs heavily, indeed it has been running so for some time, although I have tried to make it run cheerfully, and the swash, swash of my sad sad thoughts causes the tears to fall upon these pages. They are dropping fact, those wilful tears, and I cannot chase them away. They are spoiling my paper and ink, and I cannot see through their watery film, Oh angels! among whom I dwell, brush them away with thy soft white wings, and let me finish my story, for the time draws in apace, the journeying has been early, and the Dawn is almost reached. Yet who beholds that radiant Focus? Who marks the Medullary Rays, the Sunsetting and the Sunrising Radii? Only the journeyer. Look around you, O sister sojourners, be careful I plead, lest, like Elisha, you hold up your hands, wringing with infinite sorrow, and witness the ascending figure, yourself awake at last to the reality of the Early Rising, but, alas! too late to say the last Good-Bye. Hush! hush! the dawn is bright, the journey sweet, and you make us weep with these sad musings. Ah! we weep for ourselves; we weep for our page 429earth; we wanted her so, that bright pure star; for our earth is so dull and our hearts full of shadows, and she made sunshine wherever she went. She fed us with fruit from the Tree of Life; she bathed our wounds in the Crystal Stream. In the sparkling Jasper Carriage of Love she drew us along to our Immortal Home. "Oh, why did she go, that bright, pure star, and leave us the rest of this dark journey alone?

Ye heeded her not, dissatisfied one. Ye mocked at her tears and rejected her love. But the Father valued His tender one, and took her away to her home above. Mourn no more for what ye have lost. But steadily traverse your journey on. Among that radiant, heavenly host, she is still drawing your Chariot along.

"Nellie, put on your hat and come for a stroll. The walk will do you good. You have tired yourself too much, and the cool air will freshen you up for to-night. Besides, I have something particular to tell you before I go back, and I start early in the morning."

Walter Thornton was standing beside the piano, on which Nellie was playing a sad, weird tune. His manly sunburnt face, as he bent over the entranced girl, for Nellie had lost all sense of her surroundings, and was living in the spell of her magic world, was flushed, and his eyes shone like stars. He has improved greatly since last we saw him. His face has lost that effeminate look, and the country air and "roughings" has given it a proud, manly cast. The soft brown hair curled loosely back from the open brow; and as Nellie once declared she would effect, he cultivated no more than a moustache now. His manners also have changed. He was as gentlemanly as ever, and as courteous to the ladies; but his voice was not so often used in trivial compliments, and his courtesy partook more of the Earnest Inborn Growth than of the Outward Enamelling. He had many friends, for he was just the stamp to win his way into the hearts of all, and his page 430life was full of sunshine; but there were times when he felt a shadow creeping into his heart, and he would shut his eyes to chase it away. These times were when he looked, as he is looking now, at the almost spiritualized face of his cousin.

The slender, almost transparent fingers did not cease until the piece was finished, then they fell together in the girl's lap, and she lifted her great planetary eyes, in which the shadows lay, and looked at her companion.

"Oh Nellie," exclaimed Walter, throwing his arms around the slight figure, "you frighten me when you look like that. Why don't you look like other girls? I shall burn this horrid music."

Nellie rose and withdrew herself from her cousin's arms. "Do I, Walter?" she said, with a bright, winning smile, "I am so sorry. I have been to Heaven, and heard the angels sing. They have such sweet voices, and they were so pleased that I should go and listen to them. But you wanted me to go for a walk, didn't you? Yes, I will go, for I feel so peaceful, as if now that the work was done, there is sweet rest somewhere." She turned to leave the room, and just as she was crossing the hall she caught a glimpse of a fluttering white dress. She pressed her hand to her brow, to try and push back the suddon sickening sensation, but found it impossible to do so. Passing quickly through to the dining-room, she said in her clear, decisive tones, "I am going for a walk with Walter, mother. My head aches a little, and the air will do me good. Tell Grace to put the flowers I have been arranging into their proper places. I will be back in plenty of time." Again that sickening sensation crept over her as she turned away, for through the deep bay window she had seen a white face with strange, angry eyes. Only a moment it had appeared, then it vanished; but the dark brows had almost met across the forehead, and the jetty, red-tipped lashes had flown back and formed, around the eyes, a misty circle like the red wave of warning,

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"Oh, Father, grant unto thy child strength and wisdom," prayed Nellie, as she stood before the glass and pinned on her hat. "The trial is at hand; I feel Thy warning spirit. Incline my heart unto Thy ways, and let not my footsteps depart from following after Thee."

She met Walter in the hall, and together they made their way, as of one accord, to the great restless Ocean. On the little hand-bridge, the very one we mentioned long ago, they paused a moment and looked at the slowly moving stream.

"Do you remember our conversation on board that steamer, Nellie?" said Walter. "I do; I shall never forget it. The remembranceof that strange encounter hastened my coming back. Although I did not know you, I felt there was a strange affinity between us, and those strings of remembrance drew me back to seek the holder."

"I have often thought of that time, Walter. I have passed through much since then. My body had passed through much before, but after, it was my spirit's great battle."

"I hardly think much more could be needed. You had conquered the fear of death then; and darkness to you was light. What else can there be for the soul's great flight? If I remember aright, you took me beyond the 'Dream of the Universe,' into the 'Vision of Heaven.' Do you mean to say the soul can get beyond Heaven?"

"I took you to the Gate, and showed you the Golden City. I pointed out the twelve gates with their twelve angels; the walls with their apostle foundations; but I did not take you in; I did not let you see the 'Holy Jerusalem' descend unto man. Yes, the soul can get beyond Heaven, it can get into God. I was angry with that man, and with the inferior rank I then held, I acted right in destroying his book; but I feel that now I could look on and pity him, comparing his puny strength, with the struggling feather that floats down page 432the silent stream. I was in Heaven then, but my feet touched the earth. I am in God now, and His Glory prevents me from feeling the dull world. But let us go, it will be evening soon."

They traversed the rest of the way in silence, until they stood on the edge of the great blue sea.

"What is this great secret you wish to tell me, Walter?" asked Nellie, by way of helping him out of his difficulty, for she guessed his thoughts.

"Oh, Nellie, you surely know," burst from Walter Thornton's lips. "I am not yet in a position to offer you a home, but I am trying very hard, and next month I become manager of the Tuturi station. Dear, I think of everything for you. If I get impatient, I feel your cool hand on my brow. Nellie dear," he took the girl's cold thin hand between both his own, "let me love you as I yearn to do. Let me feel your warm arms around my neck, and your sweet kisses on my cheek. It is so hard for me, loving you as I do, to have to stand by and wait for these sweet blessings until I can offer you a home, and yet when I look at your face, I dare not ask for these until you promise to be my wife."

Nellie had been gazing out across the water all the while Walter was speaking. When he finished, she turned her eyes to his face, and placed her disengaged hand upon his shoulder. Oh, what a mighty power lies in a small, white hand. It can soothe and set at rest the awful torrent of an imperious will; it can lead the favoured into the land of sunshine and hope; it can agitate into roaring, heaving billows the calm waters of an equable mind; and it can strike with sure and certain aim, the poisoned arrow into many a brave, strong heart.

Away in the distance a soft breeze arose, and gathering in volume during its onward progress, it swept past the two page 433motionless figures like a whirlwind, striking itself with terrific force against the huge white cliff, and becoming dashed into a thousand pieces. The broken fragments rebounded, many were lost in the great air ocean, but some settled upon the land. Then when the mist had lifted, those fragments were seen to unite and become dissolved, and in the form of a gentle stream they wended their way to the sea. But the surface, over which that thread-like stream had passed, had been left unmasked of Memory's Dust, and on the marble slab of an Antique Grave there appeared a name. Ah! the vicinity of that moss-grown tomb was no place for that tale of love.

"Walter," said Nellie's sweet voice, "I cannot be your wife, for I am betrothed to another."

The young man started back, and shook from his shoulder the girl's thin white hand.

"Don't interrupt me, dear," continued Nellie, half sadly. "There will be no occasion for duels. My betrothed is in Heaven. I once had a vision, Walter—a strange, complicated, visionary dream—and although it was vague and misty, yet there was one bright light, and I knew by its clearness that that was the object of my vision. You do not believe in fancy, Walter? Neither do I, but this was no fancy. I was awake when Heaven opened it to my senses. In it that light began to show itself long before my chaotic intellect took shape; many times it was hidden by nearer lights, once it was entirely lost; but there it shone, and I felt it had been travelling toward me from the creation. Walter, you have no connection with that light, therefore I know you are not my betrothed. Besides, do you not understand why I am as you say, 'Different from any?' Why do I frighten you at times, Walter? Can one, who is wrapped so closely around with God's glory that the earth becomes invisible, be long for the page 434desert air? Oh, look at me, dear, and tell me, do you not read in my face the title of my office? I am only waiting until the last stitch is put in my wedding garments, and then I shall go to meet my dear, dear bridegroom. I do not think it will be long before the angels come to dress me, Walter; already I see them preparing the marriage feast. Oh, it will be so nice to go Home, dear. I feel that I have been there before—yes, I remember, before I came to this earth—that is why I am such a stranger here."

"O, Nellie, little cousin." Walter Thornton held out his arms, and Nellie suffered herself to be clasped in a close fond embrace. It was all explained now—that dread feeling when he looked at that dear face, the mystery around that dear quiet life—and yet his heart did not break. He could kiss her now, but it was as if he kissed a saint; perhaps as his arms encircled the slender figure, he expected to feel it suddenly vanish into space.

"Tell me," said he, as they paused a moment before entering their gate; "is it true what mother writes me?"

"Yes, Walter. I have no more need of it now. The rest have plenty; and, you know, it is "For Father's Sake."

That evening the wide folding doors of "Spes" were thrown open, and for the first time for many many days, reception room, and sitting room, and hall, were thronged with gay laughing visitors. The night was lovely—lovelier by far than the day. The great shining moon stood out in the blue sky like a burnished silver penny; and the tiny stars spangled the arched heavens, and seemed as silver-headed nails, keeping up the dome-shaped ceiling. Soft white clouds floated beneath, reminding the Terrestrial that the Celestial were very near. And the trees and flowers and fields looked motionless as the dead, yet in silent majesty holding up their heads to receive the blessing of their Sovereign. Around the wide verandah, and amongst the garden trees, hung myriads of page 435Chinese lanterns; and if the fruit which proved fatal to poor Eve were as tempting as these great golden apples, humanity should not blame her too severely for her enravishment. Within was all that the gay desire. The sparkling conversation, laughing repartee, the beautifully-dressed ladies, the gallant gentlemen. Grace stood beside her mother, and helped to receive the guests; and Walter stood beside Grace and helped her. They looked very well, those three proud forms, for on their cheeks, and in their eyes, blazed the rich light of excitement; and as they welcomed all with their rare bright smiles, the visitors felt the pleasure and comfort of well-trained courtesy. In her own quiet room, Nellie was seated with two young women.

"I am so glad you brought Queenie, Marion," said that tender familiar voice. Then turning to a fair young woman, dressed in a shining satin gown, she put her arms around her, and pressed her lips to the soft smooth cheek. "You will be good to Iwand, Queenie, won't you? I will not be here to see your marriage, but I may witness it from afar."

They did not exactly understand her; but the rich blood rushed into the fair girl's cheek, and "Queenie promised to be good to Iwand."

"And you, Marion; you are lovelier than ever. You were always beautiful, dear. I think you are perfectly lovely now."

But the music was striking the first notes of their opening dance, and they turned to add their mite to the swelling throng.

"Lyly," said Marion, placing a detaining hand upon the girl's white arm. "Lyly, what is the matter with you? Norman tells me you are ill. Dear, you do not look ill. But O! what is it? If I look perfectly lovely, Lyly, you look perfectly—divine."

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"I am not ill, dear. I am perfectly happy, and O, so strong."

Then Marion and Queenie returned to the lights and the enjoyments; and Nellie quietly slipped out, and, shirking the lights, entered the deserted shrubbery. No one saw her go, no one missed her; it was usual to find her place vacant at the dancing board, and no one offered a comment. "She does not care much for company," and with that answer the questioner was satisfied.

And out in the moonlight Nellie stood, and watched the angels descend, bearing her completed wedding garment, and her snowy bridal wreath and veil. And still further back, she saw the Great Open Hall, with its floor of Golden Water; and from its depth she saw arise that strange advancing figure Was he strange? Ah! no. She knew him now, for he was dressed in his wedding robes, and his face was lost in the light of his soul. Nothing stood between them now, and her own soul leapt forward to meet its affinity.

"O, hasten, my bridesmaids!" she cried; "for long have we been apart; and my soul is weary—weary of being alone. But where is my father? and where is that other red light? Why are they not here to welcome me?"

But the angels brushed away the tears with their kisses, and bade her be patient. "They are preparing the Feast, sweet one; and you must appear before the Throne before you can be Heaven's Ordained. The Mighty Renunciation, The Holy Love, must put His Name in your forehead first, my child."

Then the soft clouds passed beneath; the star lay at her feet. Away! Away!

And in the boudoir of a large stone turretted house, among the redeemed heirlooms of the past Main generations, which, by the tacit consent of all parties, had been transferred to the most faithful, stands a noble-looking lady. In her hand she page 437clasps the salvation of her husband's honour; but her streaming eyes and heaving bosom tell too plainly these pleasures were not without their subsequent pain.

And yet again, not so far away, two dear old people find their eyes filled with their soul's hot tears.

"O, auntie, dear! I told you once that I felt my journeying would be early. It is almost traversed, and, as I said, there is no darkness for me. The white wings of the angel messengers hide from me all shadows; and I float Away, Away. I wish I could have seen your dear face once more, and heard uncle's dear voice. But yet perhaps it is better so, for then the parting would have a pang. Farewell! my dear ones; my tears would flow and mingle with yours, but O, there is so much brightness Beyond, that I cannot pause to weep. Farewell! Farewell!"

Reader, my pen runs heavily; indeed, it has been running so for some time, for this is our Farewell; and the swash, swash, of my sad thoughts cause the tears to fall upon these pages. They are dropping fast, those wilful tears, and I cannot chase them away. They are spoiling my paper and ink, and I cannot see through their watery film. O angels, among whom I dwell, write then, in tears, with thy snow-white wings, these sad sweet words, "It is finished."

The author now asks her reader's leave to add a few conclusive notes, in order to impress more firmly upon their minds, the various reasons for thus inflicting upon them the tedious duty of reading the story of "For Father's Sake." The predominating motive, as anyone will see without much trouble, is to show the very close connection there is between Heaven and Earth. Many speak of Heaven as some place far away, and of God as some Being seated on a distant throne. Of course they will say "God bless you!" and mean it. And they will uplift their eyebrows and declare, "The ways of page 438God are wonderful, and in everything we see the guiding hand of God." Yet they do not live these truths, they do not trust to that near, personal, guiding, hand. In fact, they are satisfied with a distant worship of God, and a near worship of themselves, And more than this: the current literature of the day holds the same defect. Heaven and earth, God and man are too widely separated. And why? Because these peaceful times have influenced man to depend upon his own power and strength; because angels and spirits are looked upon as beings apart from this world, beings after their own vulgar conception; because religion is being made by man, instead of being used as a completed act. Listen, O man, to my parable.

I wandered about among my people, seeking, ever seeking, for the golden apple—the apple of Religion. I lifted my eyes to the Heavens, and almost despaired. When suddenly there arose before me a range of mighty mountains. The side next me fell away in a gentle decline toward a level plain. On the border of the plain, and extending to the distant horizon, was an unknown ocean. This was the ocean of Hell. I turned my face to the heights, and clearly and distinctly, against the blue sky, I perceived a narrow shining path. Few and far between were the travellers along that path, for the immense height and the limited breadth made the way difficult to traverse. There were many paths winding at certain intervals along that slope, and the ones near the plain were wider and more easily traversed than those near the shining track. Plain and paths were peopled. Listen, and you will hear the conversation of those who frequent the lower tracks:

"A straight and narrow way, indeed! Ours is the better path. It is broad and level, and free from dizziness. See! have we not grass at our feet; flowers and trees on every side; the tombs of our Jacobs lie behind, and golden space page 439in front. These sights are pleasures enough. What need to look at those shining heights, or at that shadowy depth? Is not the sky above? Then let those fanatics mount ever so high, they will see no more than do we. And we say our prayers regularly and solemnly, which is more than they do, for they often pause in their journey and look upward. We are all going to heaven, when we die. That is all that is required from mortal."

Yet see, they turn and begin to contend among themselves. Listen again. Do not laugh, for this is a serious contention, and in the lives of those revilers it has serious results.

"You are wrong; you worship ceremony. You are not right; you adore your pride. As for you, Immersion has become your idol. You harp and grow rusty on a few solitary opinions. And you, and you, are simply fools; fanatic fools; fractions fools."

I am tired of this conversation. Are you? You are. Then let us ascend. See, those lofty travellers beckon us up. Ah! hasten, hasten! We ascend. Bright, bright track! We cannot pray, for we ourselves are prayer. Why do we stop and gaze upward? Because the Holy Jerusalem, and not the sky, is our canopy; and the gates of that city are open. Look down. The golden land of Canaan lies at our feet. And what is that? What that strange surging movement? It is the people of Christ, with their faces turned in the one direction. The sight is glorious. We feel our hearts bursting with delight; and in our enravishment, we forget the thousand and one Isms, remembering the one deep, universal Christ-ism alone. This is Religion; the Golden Apple; the Salve of all our Mortality.

Then there are subordinate reasons; but these you will understand better by reading the book, and pondering over the preface. Peace on Earth has been my motto; peace Above my Aims. Doubtless there will be much against your page 440belief; much unsuited to your taste; out of keeping with your experiences. I can only answer, "I speak the Truth," and close my lips.

My hour of oration has transpired, and the curtain is trembling in the Call Boy's hand. Dear reader, I have obeyed that voice; I have addressed my beloved country. Forgive the mistakes of my baby speech. Here in your open palm I lay "A Tale of New Zealand Life," and ask you to read it "For Both Fathers' Sakes."

The End