Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1870-08-05
GIT MIGHT HA VE BEEN"
A Temperance sketch.
BY sYLvANUs COBB, JR.

"Ah il might have been otherwise with
me! 1t might have been diffcrcnt--far
different" And Paul Hartley bowed his
head as he looked back into the years that
were past.
Tut tut, my dear Paul." said his
friend, touching him upon the shoulder
Never think of what might hare been.
Think, rather of what SHALL be. Let the
Past take its own burdens; and let us
brace ourselves for the Future"
Aye" answered Paul looking up, and
trying TO smile "but how shall we steer
our barks in the time to come without
chart or compass-and where shall we
find our chart and compass, save in the
experience of the Past?"
You are right, Pau, right so far as
needing the Past for its lessons of expert
cnce is concerned we need not look
upon the past gloomily we need not look
back into the departed years repiningly.
If there have been errors, and we have
sincerely rcpentcd, then let us hope that
the true life of the coming time shall blot
those errors from the record"
And still Paul Hartley shook his head.
"Ah.n he said" there are errors which
cast so deep shadow upon lie that no
time of earth can yield light enough TO
illumc tho dark spots. The years that
have been lost can never be regain cd.
Though my life in tho time to come were
MS the life OF an angel, | could uoi re'
deem that which have cast away. The
coming forth into light cannot obliterate
the memory OF the midnight wandering {;
nor can the entrance upon u smooth and
level path take away the scars and the
hating which come OF sore wounds and
broken bones got in the pitfalls Of error.
All, my friend, if there be one man, more
than another, who has come TO think
regrc,fully of the past, is he who has
cast the bright hours OF opening manhood
under the dread shadow Of the wine. cup.
and the golden opportunities Of whose life
have been thrown away. o, pardon that
man when, in the agony OF thought, he
SAYS. IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.
Paul, YOU have never told me of your
past life. Have you had such bitter ex-
pcrience?'
After little time Paul Hartley moved
away so that his face might be shaded
from the direct rays oil the lamp, and then
said,-
IL will relate To you one incident OF
my experience, and you shall then Judge
my parents both died when | was very
Young, and WAS an only child. Oi
property my father left enough to support
me through early childhood, and no more
Ny nearest relative was my Aunt Sarah
nv fathers sister, older than himself.
She was a true hearted woman. and she
loved me rs though had been her own
flesh and blood and no mother could have
been more fond of her offspring than was
nv aunt OF me. In other years Aunt
Sarah had served rs nurse in the family
of 4 man who lived in New York city,
or, in what is now part Of the city; but
which was then regarded rs back in the
country He owned 4 cottage, and two
or threo acres OF land, where now arc
reared some OF the stateliest structures oi
the Eighth Avenue. This man had no
children. His wifc.died in Aunt Sarah
arms, and he went away to die in Europe
but he did not forget his faithful nurse
He left her, by will, his estate in New
York, and she rented it TO a gardner
man who had been kind to her, and whom
she wished 20 befriend. Shrewd men,
who forcsaw how the city was destined to
grow, sought to purchase that land; but
my aunt would not remove the poor man
to whom she had let it. and thus, Through
her generous friendship for another, she
held the estate, and her tenant raised his
garden vegetables thereon, even after on,
coming tide of Improvement had reared
its walls of brick and granite upon its
very confines. And so, without the least
thought of self, her property grew in
value, until her rental amounted To more
than ten thousand Il year, besides much
money in bank.
Twas from the first wayward boy but
| loved my good aunt. and | certainly
meant to make her happy. need not tell
you of all my shortcomings. When
was fifteen years old had learned to
love wine; and drank at first at my
aunts sideboard. After that | fell into
bad company. and went down very low.
When was eighteen my aunt put forth
strong hand to save. She put away all
intoxicating liquors from her house, and
thenceforth her friends were to know that
the wine cup was replenished no more a'
her board. And this she did for my sake
She had borne much with me, and she
told me her heart would break il ! were
lost to her in the dread food Of intemper'
ance. She took me TO her bosom. and
kissed ME, and begged of me to reform
and | gave her my promise.
was then twenty. and when had
gone six months without tasting the cup
she gave into my hands the care OF hel
New York property. In The great city
tampered with my enemy; and in this