"Oh, where have you laid Him, etc., For He is not in the tomb.

"Oh, why stand ye gazing? etc., Oh, ye men of Galilee?

"Don't you see Him now ascending! etc., There to plead for you and me.

"By-and-by we'll go to meet Him, etc., Where pleasures never fade."

While the incomparably superior lyrics of Wesley and Watts were generally sung in the public service of the Sabbath, when the preacher gave out the hymns from the book; yet these simpler and ruder strains were the greater favourites at the revival meeting.

By these the G.o.dly forefather's of Methodism in Canada nourished their souls and enbraved their spirits for the heroic work in which they were engaged, of consecrating the virgin wilderness to G.o.d.

CHAPTER XVII.

HEART TRIALS.

"Well, Kate," said Zenas, as he and his sister rode homeward through the solemn moonlight and starlight, "You have burned your boats and broken down the bridge. There is no going back."

"I hope not, Zenas," she replied, "but I feel very much the need of going forward. I have only made the first step yet."

"Well, you've started on the right line, anyhow. It was a plucky thing to do. I did not think it was in you. You are naturally so shy. I wish I could do the same myself, but I haven't the courage."

"Don't think of yourself, Zenas, nor of your comrades; but of the loving Saviour who died for you and longs to save you."

"Upon my word, Kate, it made me feel more what a coward I am to see you standing before the whole meeting than all the preaching I ever heard."

"I felt that I ought, that I must," said Kate, "but after I rose I forgot every one there and spoke because my heart was full. O Zenas, just give up everything for Jesus; be willing to endure anything for Jesus; and you'll feel a joy and gladness you never felt before. Why, the very world seems changed, the stars and the trees, and the moonlight on the river were never so beautiful; and my heart is as light as a bird."

"I wish I could, Kate. I remember I used to feel something like that about Brock. I could follow him anywhere. I could have died for him."

"Well, that feeling is enn.o.bling. But much n.o.bler is it to enlist under the Great Captain, the grandest teacher and leader the world ever knew; and what is better far, the most loving Saviour and Friend."

With such loving converse, the brother and sister beguiled the homeward way. As Kate retired to her room a sweet peace flooded her soul as the moonlight flooded with a heavenly radiance the snowy world without. Zenas, on the contrary, was ill at ease, and tossed restlessly, his soul disturbed with deep questionings of the hereafter, during much of the night.

As Kate sat at the head of the table next morning, where her mother had been wont to sit, some of her dead mother's holy calm and peace seemed to rest upon her countenance. So thought her father as he looked upon her.

"How like your mother you grow, child," ha said when all the rest had left the table.

"Do I, father? I hope I shall grow like her in everything. I have learned the secret of her n.o.ble life. I have found her best friend," and she modestly recounted her recent experiences.

Little more then pa.s.sed, but a few days afterwards, the Squire took occasion, when he was alone with his daughter, to say, "I hope you are not going to join those Methodists, Kate. I respect religion as much as any one; but I think the Church of your father ought to be good enough for you. You've always been a good girl. I don't see the need of this fuss, as if you had been doing something awful. Besides," he went on, a little hesitatingly, as if he were not quite sure of his ground, "besides it will mar your prospects in life, if you only knew it."

"I don't understand you, father," replied Kate, with an expression of perplexity. "You have always thought too well of me. I know my life has been very far from right in the eyes of G.o.d. I feel I need pardon as much as the worst of sinners."

"Of course we're all sinners," went on the old man. "The Prayer Book says that. But then Christ died to save sinners, you know; and I'm sure you never did any thing very bad. But what I mean is this: You must be aware that you have made a deep impression upon Captain Villiers, and no blame to him either. He is an honourable gentleman, and he has asked my permission to pay his addresses. I asked him to wait till this cruel war is over, because while it lasts a soldier's life is very uncertain, and I did not wish to harrow up your feelings by cultivating affections which might be blighted in their bloom. Nay, hear me out, child," he continued, as Kate was about to reply," I did not intend to speak of this now, but the Captain is a strict Churchman, and so were his ancestors, he says, for three hundred years, and he would not, I am sure, like one for whom he entertains such sentiments as he does toward you, to cast in her lot with those ranting Methodists."

Kate had at first blushed deeply, and then grew very pale. She however listened to her father patiently, and then said quietly, but with much firmness, "I respect Captain Villiers very highly, father; and am very grateful for his kindness to us all, and especially to Zenas when he was wounded. I feel, too, the honour he has done me in entertaining the sentiments of which you speak.

But something more than respect is due to the man to whom I shall entrust my life's keeping. Where my heart goes, there will go my hand; there, and not elsewhere."

"Pooh! pooh, child. Girls are always romantic, and never know their own mind. You will think better of it. I'm getting to be an old man, Kate, and would not like to leave you unsettled in life in these troublous times. You owe me your obedience as a daughter, remember?"

"I owe you my love, my life, father, but I owe something to myself, and more to G.o.d. I feel that my taste and disposition end that of Captain Villiers are very different, and more different than ever since the recent change in my religious feelings. It would be at the peril of my soul, were I to encourage what you wish."

"Nonsense, girl. You are growing fanatical. You never disobeyed me before. You must not disobey me now."

Kate smiled a wan and flickering smile of dissent; but to say more she felt would be fruitless. A heavy burden was laid upon her young life. She knew the iron will that slumbered beneath her father's kind exterior; but she felt in her soul a will as resolute, and with a woman's queenly dignity she resolved to keep that soul-realm free. In her outward conduct she was more dutiful and attentive to her father's comfort than ever; but she felt poignantly that for the first time in her life an injunction was laid upon her by one who she so pa.s.sionately loved which she could not obey. She found much comfort in softly singing to herself in that inviolate domain, the solitude of her own room, a recent poem which she had clipped from the _York Gazette,_ and which, in part, expressed her own emotions:--

"Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow Thee; Naked, poor, despised, forsaken, Thou, from hence, my all shalt be; Perish every fond ambition, All I've sought and hoped and known, Yet how rich is my condition!

G.o.d and heaven are still my own!

"And while Thou shalt smile upon me, G.o.d of wisdom, love, and might, Foes may hate, and friends may shun me Show Thy face and all is bright.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure!

Come disaster, acorn, and pain!

In Thy service, pain is pleasure; With Thy favour, loss is gain.

"Man may trouble and distress me, Twill but drive me to Thy breast; Life with trials hard may press me, Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.

O 'tis not in grief to harm me, While Thy love is left to me; O 'twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee."

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHIPPEWA AND LUNDY'S LANE.

During the remainder of the winter the domestic history of the household at The Holms was unmarked by any incidents. The discharge of her homely duties and kindly charities to the people of the devastated village of Niagara who still lingered in the neighbourhood engrossed all the time and energies of Katharine Drayton. These wholesome activities prevented any morbid breedings or introspections, and furnished the best possible tonic for the strengthening of her moral purposes. Captain Villiers found frequent opportunities of visiting The Holms. His manner to Kate was one of chivalric courtesy; but, with a self-imposed restraint, he studiously endeavoured to repress any manifestation of tender feelings. Kate was cordial and kind, but as studiously avoided giving an opportunity for the manipulation of such feelings had it been contemplated.

Neville Trueman was engaged in special religious services night after night for nearly the whole winter at several appointments of his circuit. The revival influence seemed to widen and deepen as the weeks went by. He often called to invite Zenas to these meetings. At times the young man seemed strangely subdued and docile, and Neville rejoiced over what he considered the yielding of his will to the hallowed influences of the good Spirit of G.o.d.

At other times he seemed wilful and wayward, or even petulant and testy, giving evidence of the resistance of his human will to the Divine drawings of which he was the subject. At such times the faith of Neville was sorely tried; but his patience and forbearance were never exhausted, and the sisterly affection and tenderness of Katharine were redoubled. Zenas would then break out into self-upbraidings and self-reproaches; and Kate, not knowing what to say, said little, but, in the solitude of her chamber, prayed for him all the more.

"Kate, you're an angel and I'm a brute," he said one day after one of these exacerbations of temper; "I don't see how you can bear with me."

"Bear with you, Zenas!" she replied, tears of sympathy rilling her eyes, "I could give my life for you. Alas! my brother, very far from an angel am I; I am a poor weak sinner, and I need the grace of G.o.d every day to cleanse my heart and keep it clean."

"If you, who are a saint, need that, what do I need, who am viler, than a beast?" he exclaimed with an impa.s.sioned gesture.

"You need the same, Zenas, dear; and it is for you if you only will seek it," she replied laying her hand gently on his arm.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand, kissed it pa.s.sionately, then dropped it and turned abruptly away. She looked after him wistfully; but felt a glad a.s.surance spring up in her heart that the object of so many prayers could not be finally lost.

Thus matters went on for several weeks. At last one day Kate was sewing alone in her little room, when through the window she saw Zenas approaching with long elastic strides from the barn.

Bursting into her presence, he exclaimed, with joyous exaltation of manner, "I've done it, Kate! Thank G.o.d, at last I've done it!"

She had no need to ask, as she looked into his transfigured countenance, an explanation of his words. She flung herself upon his breast, and throwing her arms about his neck said, "Dear Zenas, I knew you would;--I felt sure of it. Thank G.o.d I Thank G.o.d!"

In loving communion the brother and sister sat, as Zenas told how he could not bear the struggle between his conscience and his stubborn will any longer. So, after doing his "ch.o.r.es" at the barn, he went on, he had climbed into the hay-loft, resolved not to leave it till the conflict was over and he had the consciousness of his acceptance with G.o.d and of the forgiveness of his sins. "I envied the very horses in the stalls," he said, in describing his emotions; "they were fulfilling their destiny; they had no burden of sin; while I was tortured with a d.a.m.ning sense of guilt. I flung myself on the straw," he went on; "and groaned in the bitterness of my spirit, 'O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death.' At that moment," he exclaimed, "I seemed to hear spoken in my ears, the exultant answer from the apostle: 'I thank G.o.d, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' I sprang up, and before I knew began to sing--