St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1878-03-22

gladly perform any service for those
that he loved. Authority he obeyed,
when the issue was forced upon him,
but he did not much respect it. His
father he looked upon as well-mean-
ing governor, whose ignorance of boy
nature was double misfortune.
But one day, when Mortimer was
eighteen, the authority that had been
so irksome to him suddenly weakened,
failed and ceased. Whether his fathers
blood had been unduly quickened by
his fastening to catch car, or whether
the temper expended in dealing with
an unusual number of beggars, tramps,
agents and other unfortunate people
who took the liberty of giving him a
chance to emulate the neighbOrliness of
the Good Samaritan, had been too much
for him, was not clearly known. But
Mr.. Sewall suddenly stopped when in
sight of his door, on his return from
business at night, staggered for an in
slant as if he had received a blow from
an unseen hand in the air, gasped once
or twice vainly for breath, and dropped
to the sidewalk-dead.
An instant here-alive, alert, busy in
thought and in full bodily activity: the
next moment inert, still, lifeless,-gOne !
| Yet to the passers-by who carried the
body home, thoughtless or ignorant of
the slender threads on which the most
robust existence hangs, the mystery was
not life, but death. So little do the
wonders of life impress us So awed
are we when death makes our friends
invisiblei
From the summit of his fathers grave
Mortimer had a vision of paternal love,
He saw for the first time how unselfish,
how constant, how yearning and faith
full his fathers affection bad been and
he wept to think that it had ever been
irksome to him. The pity of it THAT
so much of the purest affection in the
world is never understood until it is too
late. But with the affection and au-
thOrity both removed, neither the men,
ory of one nor the lessons of the other
served to straighten permanently the
bent of MOrtimer's life.
He grew restive at home, and his
mothers tender care fretted him. He
was too old to be longer brooded, he
thought, and would exchange the nest
for the world.
Impaticntly finishing his course OF
study, at twenty-five, he gaily kissed
the fond face of his mother, and started
out with high hopes on his career.
Whatever may have been her anxIeties,
they did not dim the calm lovelight III
her eyes, nor give quaver of mistrust
to the hopeful voice with which she
bade her boy "Be strong, be brave, be
uuew
"By heaven it is pitifuI," exclaims
ThackeraY ,-"this bootless love of wo-
men for their children in Vanity Fair =
But so divine thing cannot be pitiful.
1t is inspired and inspiring. 1t has
within it power of moral uplifting
akin to the mercy of the skies.
In the great metropolis of the West,
Mortimer sought out the field on which
to engage in the old contest of The
Yonng Man as The World. And the
old issue was repeated: 1.-The world
was too many for him."
The liberal sum of money with which
be embarked i'll business disappeared
''like the snowfall Oh the rivern He
lived lavishly, dipped freely in what
with satanic irony are styled "the pleas
ures of the town." and generally pro-
ceeded to ''make up lost time" after the
fashion of Il certain class of young men
who learn too late the full cost of ''see-
ing the folly of it,"
His father had walked him in the
paths of virtue by keeping hold of his
coat collar; and when the holding hand
was gone he was like a structure with
out props. He tippled little-gen-
teelly, of course, and as a sort of dee
laratiOn of independence. He gambled
Il little, i'll an amateurish way,-more
for the fascinating flavor of unlawful
ness than with any settled purpose
And in Il general way he ''saw life" tC
the death of his own best purposes and
high resolves.
His very generosity became his enc.
my, for he was generous before he wa:
just. The open hand and the free hear
lost the grace that characterizes them
through the debts unpaid and the JUS
claims dishonored that were back o
them. AT the end of five swiftly pass
ing years Mortimer Sewall found hi.
business, his credit, and his standing
all gone.
His letters home had gIown less an(
less frequent and definite i'll their in
formation, and vague reports that the
absent son was "a little wild' had dis
turbed and distressed the home circle
His mother wrote to him kindly ad
monitiOns, couched in the gentle anC
guarded words with which the mother.
heart seeks to smother its own fears
and win back, without apparently mis-
trusting, the wayward son.
She carried her sorrow and her feal
to the clOset-that unfailing refuge o.
heavy-laden mothers. She plead will
her God, by the love of his own Son, t,
save hers. Before the sacred, secre
altar of the home-with mothers bow.
ing there, with pale faces and streaming
eyes-night after night, year after year
growing old, and weak, and sad, and
still praying on with constant hope anG
sererest faith-before such spectacle
repeated through almost two Thousand
years, even the boldest skepticisn
should be timid, and the loudest scoffel
dumb. Does not survival of the spiri
Of prayer, through so many centuries o
asking ignorant, misdirected an6
fruitless-furnish high proof of the
Divinity of the impulse and the death
lessness of faith There is nothing Sc
sad in the universe as the pathos of un
answered prayer, and yet it does not
quench the faith that cries "Thougl
He slay me, yet will trust Him !"
| But what precept and example haC
failed to do for Mortimer, prayer die
not accomplish. He drifted from one
occupation to another, sometimes fol
the better, but generally for the worse
until he was in danger of the most dis
astrous of all bankruptcies: the loss OF
his self-respect. That degradation he
was saved from by a judicious friend
and the outbreak of the war.
1t was impossible to know his gener-
GUS nature, and the fine qualities of his
mind. without thoroughly liking him in
spite of his failings. A man who will