AWAY off in the cosy little republic of Switzerland, far-famed for its industrious workers, its hardy peasants, and the unsurpassed scenery of its mountains—for Switzerland is all mountains—there is a peak of the Alps which travelers and adventurers from the four corners of the earth seek; for if they are there at the right moment they may behold from the lofty summit of Mount Pilate the magnificent and sublime grandeur of a panorama of the Alpine system.
Mount Pilate. City and Lake of Lucerne in Foreground.
Their eternal snows covering their rocky peaks, their dark and awful cliffs, their rivers of ice, and their far-reaching views of mountain range beyond mountain range, to the north, to the south, to the east and west, as far as eye can reach, till the beholder marvels at the greatness and majesty of it all.
But not all can behold this wondrous scene. Nay; it is he only who is there when the clouds and fog lift for a brief time, that is permitted to gaze upon such sublimity. It is for him who waits after his struggle to the summit, who beholds by faith on his upward toilsome journey the reward
of persistence. Yes, it is a reward, even for the brief space of time that he may behold it; he feels satisfied for his spent energy in looking upon one of the most magnificent pictures of earth.
Is it not so, in figure, in that humble, every-day life of ours? Are we not content, even satisfied, with ourselves in the lowlands of life; too content to ever know the infinitude of grandeur and glory that await us on the mountain-top?
Our fellow men toil and slave in the swamps of life, down among the loathsome, sickening bogs. Like the man of Bunyan, continually digging the filth with his muck-
rake while the shining crown hung over his head, so they stir the miasmatic dregs of the stagnant pools rather than look up and behold their reward in the pure, inviting mountain.
And there are also the vale and plain-dwellers, shut in by the narrow horizon of their own small dwellings. It is somewhat as the narrow sectarian prayed, who was evidently a vale-dweller, “God, bless me and my wife, and my son John and his wife; us four, and no more.” Yes, they toil and labor, and work and grind, but to what effect? Still dwellers of the plains, no higher do they strive. Why?—They are content with their efforts such as they are; their success comes to them in proportion to their endeavor6and energy; it seems to offer no incentive to better things and higher steps. They are satisfied living and dying without the knowledge of the hill country and its greater opportunities.
The invitation is, “Come up higher”—up to the mountains, the mountains of hope and salvation, where there is room to expand, to live and breathe. Come, ye swamp-dwellers, from your poisoned, miasmatic, lifeless atmosphere of the lowlands. Come, ye dwellers of the plain and valley, from your narrow, limited, fenced habitations. Come, ye cave-dwellers, whose strength has failed in the days of adversity, one and all, up from the lowlands of sin to the limitless expanse of the mountains, nearer heaven, where you may look with undimmed eye over the immeasurable immensity of the Creator’s domain, to the great, vast perspective of the Divine, over to the gleams of the Eldorado of glory, the golden gates of Paradise which lie just beyond for the mountain climber who perseveres. Dear friend,—
“Are you tenting on the lowlands
Of the faded flowery plain,
Are you nearing life’s high mountains
As the night comes on again?”
Do the petty trials and conflicts of life ennerve and discourage you? Do you often think, “What’s the use anyway?” Then it is to you that the evangelist must point out the path upward, even as in the days of Christian; where amid trials and temptations you must overcome the difficulties and surmount the obstacles, that you may be guided to that blessed land “where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.”
“To the mountains of salvation,
Hear the angel Mercy call,
Do not tarry, look not backward,
Hasten on ere vengeance fall.
“Keep tenting toward the highlands,
Each evening nearer home;
Keep tenting toward the highlands,
Keep tenting nearer home.”
