Litchfield enquirer., 1872-11-21
From the Atlantic Monthly. MY NElcHBoR. THE PRoPHETg

GB1GK TO N&6uIS ana go D8Gk 70 the Cf03- tion; others take few dozen of the grand fatherly old centuries for granted; others seize Time by the forelock and bounce into the middle of narrative; but, as I said before, the beginning is mere mat ter of taste and convenience. choose to open my tale with the day on which took possession of my newly purchased coun- try-house.
 It was pretty little cottage, wooden, old-fashioned, Q story and half high, with long veranda, shady deor-yard, and sunny garden. I bought it as ir who was about to remove southward on more exactly, on account of her want of it. I laugh here to think how surprised you will be when you learn that these matters have no connection with my sto- ". All the important events which I propose to relate might have happened, had this gentleman never sold nor I pur- chased; and, as a proof of 1t, can ad- duce the fact that they actually dld occur some years before we enjoyed the honor of each others acquaintance. But could not resist the temptation of the episode. I am as delighted at getting into my first house as was my little son when he poked his chubby legs into his first trousers.
 "Who is my nearest neighbor ?' l asked of the former proprietor, when he made his parting call.
 "What, the occupant of the new house just below you? I can tell you very little of him. haven't made his acquaintance, and don't know his name We call him the Mormon" .L-
 "Mercy on us You don't mean to hint at anything in the way Of polygamy, hope. He doesn't keep an omnibus with seats for twenty, does be?"
 @No, not so bad as that. In fact, I don't know much about him. I thought you were aware of his-his style of liv- ing" stammered my friend. ''Oh. dare say he is respectable enough. But then we noticed three or four women about the house, and only one msn; and so We clap ped the title of Mormon on him. Nick naming is funny work, you know,-a short and easy way to be witty. believe, how ever, that he does pretend to be a proph- ct.
 sThe Pilgrim Fathers protect us Why, he may attempt to proselytize us by force. He may declare religious war against us. It would be po joke, if he should invade us with the sword in one hand, and the Koran, or whatever he may call his reye- lation, in the other"
 "Oh, don't be alarmed. He Is quite harmless, and even unobtrusive. X sad faced, pale, feeble-looking, white-bearded old man. He won't attack you, or prob ably even speak to you. I will tell you all know of him. The house was built under his direction about six months ago. understand that the women own it, and that they are not relatives aecarding to the flesh, but simply sisters in faith. They have some queer sort of religion which I am shamefully ignorant of. At all events they believe this old gentleman to be prophet, and consider it duty or pleas ure to support him. That is the extent of my knowledge, hope it doesn't dis gust you with your neighborh69d ?"
 By no means May you find as pleas ant a one, wherever you settle r
 Thank you. We'll, it is nearly train time, and I suppose must leave you and my old place. I wish you every happiness in it.'
 And so the old proprietor sighingly de- parted, leaving the new one smiling on the doorstep. I was just thinking how nicely the world was arranged, SO that one mans trouble may turn ont another mans blessing, (the illness in this gentle mans family, for instance, being the cause of my getting neat country-house cheap when my attention was arrested by the ap- pearance of thin, feeble-looking, white bearded old man, who passed down the street with head bent and hands joined behind him. I stared at him till he got by; then I ran down to the gate and look ed after him earnestly; and at last dart ed forward, hatless, in eager pursuit. He heard my approaching steps, and put his snowy beard against his right shoulder in the act of of taking glance rearward I now recognized the profile positively, and began conversation.
 'Is it possible ? My dear Doctor Pot ter, how are you? Don't you know me ? Your old friend .Elderkin. 5
 'Sir? Elderkip ? Oh !-ah !-yes How do you do, MT. Elderkin 2" he stan. mered, seeming very awkward, and hard- ly responding at all to my vigorous hand
 ''I am delighted to see you again." continued. 'I have had no news of you these five years; Do you live in this P
 TT reside in the next house, Sir" he replied, not looking me in the face, but glancing around uneasily, as if he wanted to run away.
 ''What are you the prophet ?' blurted out before I could stop my self.
 ''I am, MT. Elderkin," he said, blush- ing until thought his white hair would turn crimson. ----,---.---z
 We stared at each other in silence for ten seconds, each wishing himself OF his interlocutor at the antipOdes.
 II congratulate you on your gift, :" re- marked, as soon as I could speak. "I will see you again soon, and have talk on the subject. We have discussed similar mat tcrs before. Good-day, Doctor"
 "Good-day, MT. Elderkin, he replied, drawing himself up with poor pretence at self respect.
 He was greatly changed. Heterodoxy had not been so fattening to him as Or thodoxy. When I knew him, six years before, as pastor of fourishing church, Doctor of Divinity, and staunch Calvin ist, he had plump and rosy face, port ly form and vigorous carriage. He was a great favorite with the ladies, as clergy men are apt to be, and consequently nev-- CT lacked for delicate and appetizing sus- tenance. He was esteemed, self-respect- ful, and happy; and all these things tend to good health and good looks. I propose to make myself famons as the Gibbon of the decline and fall of this reverend gen. tleman, once so honorably established on the everlasting hills of Orthodoxy, and now so overthrown and trampled under foot by the Alaric of Spiritua ism. do not expect, indeed, that anybody will take warning by my friends sad history; nor do I insist that people in general would find it advantageous to learn much wis., dom from the experience of others; fer it is very clear, that, if we attempted only what our neighbors or our fathers had succeeded in doing, we should kill all chance of variety or improvement. 1t would be stupidly wise world; there would be no sins, and, very possibly, no virtues; instead of Everything happens" it would be Nothing happens" Beliey- ing and hoping, therefore, that Dr. Pot ter's calamities will not be the smallest check upon any person who shall feel dis posed to follow in his footsteps, present the story to the public, not at all as les- son, but merely as an item of curious in-