The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1871-03-03

thing happened to student in my class
in the seminary. | don't suppose, Doc
tor, that you are much interested in
love story, but would just like to tell
you this one, because | think you dare
not apply your principles to it in every
part. Theories often fail when practic-
ally applied, you know"
$50 on, Hugo on I'd like to hear
the story. And as for my principles,
they'll bear applying anywhere u And
the old Doctor rubbed his hands togeth-
er confidently.
"This friend of mine, Henry Gilbert"
said HUI, "was, like myself, poor. A
long time ago, when he was boy, the
son of poor widow, the lot on which
he lived joined at the back the lot on
which lived Mr.. Morton, at that time
a thriving merchant, now the principal
capitalist in that part of the country.
AS there was back gate between the
lots, my friend was the constant play
mate from earliest childhood of Jennie
Morton. He built her play-houses out
of old boards, he moulded clay bricks
for her use, and carved tiny toys out of
pine blocks for her amusement. AS he
grew larger, and as Jennies father grew
richer, and came to live in greater style,
Henry grew more shy. But by all the
unspoken language of the eyes the two
never failed to make their unchanging
regard known to each other.
Henry went to college early. At va
cation time the two met. But the grow
ing difference in their social position
could not but be felt. Jennie's friends
were of different race from his own.
Her parents never thought of inviting
him to their entertainments. And if
they had, a rusty coat and lack of
money to spend on kid gloves would
have effectually kept him away. He
was proud. This apparent neglect
stung him. 1t is true that Jennie Nor
ton was all the more kind. But his
quick and foolish pride made him fancy
that he detected pity in her kindness.
And yet all this only made him deter.
mined to place himself in position in
which he could ask her hand as her
equal. But you do not understand,
Doctor, as | do, how irresistible is this
conviction of duty in regard to the min
istry. Under that pressure my friend
settled it that he must preach. Andnow
there was before him good ten years of
poverty at least. What should he do
about it?
" In his extremity he took advice of
favorite theological professor. The pro
fessor advised him not to seek the hand
of rich girl She would not be suited
to the trials of a minister's life. But
finding that Henry was firm in his opin-
ion that this sound general principle
did not in the least apply to this partic-
ular case, the professor proceeded to
touch the tenderest chord in the young
mans heart He told him that it
would be ungenerous, and in some sense
dishonorable, for him to take woman
delicately brought up into the poverty
and trial incident to a minister's life. If
you understood, sir, how morbid his
sense of honor is, YOU would not wonder
at the impression this suggestion made
upon him. To give up the ministry was
in his mind to be traitor TO duty TO
God. TO win her. if he could, was to
treat ungcnerously her whose happiness
was dearcr to him thousand times
than his own
" | hope he did not. give her up said
the Doctor.
" Yes, he gave her up, in double
spirit of medieval selfsacrifce. Look
ing toward the ministry, he surrendered
his love as some of the old monks sacri-
feed love, ambition, and all other
things to conscience. Looking at her
happiness, he sacrificed his hopes III
more than knightly devotion to her wei
fare. The knights sometimes gave their
lives. He gave more.
" For three years he did not trust him
self to return to his home. But having
graduated and settled himself for nine
months over a church, there was no
reason why he should not 90 to see his
mother again. And once in the village,
the sight of the old dollhouse and
the old church revived thousand mem
cries that he had been endeavoring TO
Danish. The garden walks, and espe-
ciolly the apple trees, that are the most
unchangeable of landscapes, revived the
old passion with undiminished power.
He paced his room at night. He looked
out at the new house of his rich neigh
Dor. He chated under the restraint of
his VOW not to think again Of Jennie
Morton. 1t was the old story Of the
monk who thinks the world subdued,
but who finds it all at once about to as.
sumo the mastery over him. | do not
{ know how the struggle might have end
ed, but il was all at once stopped from
without.
There reached him a rumor that
Jennie was already the betrothed wife
of Colonel Pearson, who was her faith
er's partner in business. And, indeed,
/ Colonel Pearson went in and out at Mr..
Mortons gate every evening, and the
father was known to favor his suit.
Jennie was not engaged to him, how
, ever Three times she had refused him.
! The fourth time, in Difference to her
| fathers wishes, she had consented to
t think about it for week In truth,
r Henry had been home ten days, and
, had not called upon her, and all the
hope she had cherished in that direc.
t ton, and all the weary waiting seemed
e in vain. When the Colonies week was
= nearly out, she heard that Henry was to
leave in two days. In sort of despera-