Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1880-05-11


ing; the terrors of discovery; the agonies
of remorse.
He grew morbid with this introspec-
ton; perpetually thinking to himself, life
became bitter in all its usages. He new
er went into society without thinking, "if
these people knew about me-" He re-
ceived cold look, but he felt that posi-
bly, the man who gave it had fathomed
his secret and despised him. Over and
over he said to himself. "What if Sarah
knew it :" and his whole heart shivered
within him. He did Sarah-who was
his wife-the greatest injustice in this
thought. She was woman more than
usually loving. unselfsh and forgiving.
If John could have told her-which was
out of the question-out Of her sweet
compassion and tenderness he would have
felt his way back to healthy spiritual life,
but without the touch of human sympa-
thy he found it hard to lay hold on the
divine, and saw even the father who loves
his erring children, and welcomes them
back from their wondering and starvation
with eyes blinded with his own unshed
tears. 1t was in this sort Of mood that
he fell in, one year, just before thanksgiv-
ing day, with an old college friend, hard
working minister in city parish, man
who had seen more sin than John Carter
had ever dreamed Of, and combated it in
all its protean shapes of poverty. ignor-
ance and degradation.
"Where are you bound for, Joe:' John
said, as they met at at railway station.
bound for home, man. answered
the Rev. Joseph Dyer. "Where else
should man be going, this time of year
but home to the old folks and thanksgiv-
ing:"
"Do you always feel in the mood to
be thankful, then, on the set day"
ITO be sure | do, Jack; why not !:
There's always enough to be grateful for;
the Bible wouldn't say, In everything
give thanks if there was not something
in all things to be thankful for"
II don't know about that; there are
things in every mans life for which he
can't be thankful. You cannot expect
auy man, for instance, to be grateful that
he has sinneds"
A certain thrill in the tone and little
quiver of the eyelid told Mr.. Dyers keen
ear and eye more than John Carter meant
to tell.
IL think man sometimes ought to be
more thankful for his sins than his good
ness, Jack. don't mean for the sin as
sin, buf for its use to his moral life, if
he receives the lesson rightly. How on
earth are you going to feel any sympa-
thy with sinners if you have never fallen
Only God incarnate could do that"
but think OF the suffering sin entails
on the sinner himself; could you be
thankful to have dreadful wound infict-
ed on you:"
Joseph Dyer looked at his friend again
with eyes pitiful and penetrating both.
my dear fellow, I've seen man heart.
ily glad Of a wound that made him help
less simply because it kept him out o
temptation; and sinner whose conscience
torments him because Of one great sir
will never commit such another" :"
Here was Mr.. Carter's station, and a.
he left the car he wrung his friends hant
with unnecessary fervor.
Poor Jack :" said Mr.. Dyer to him
self, little knowing how much he hat
done to help the weary burden-bearer.
1t CHANGED, as we fools say, that TIT
next week an acquaintance came int
John Carter's Office; not friend, but
person whom he constantly met as bust
ness men do meet each other. Mr.. Pierc'
was ordinarily forid, prosperous man
to-day he was ghastly pale and looke'
20 years older than usual.
"Carter!" said he, hoarsely; can
speak to you moment in private?"
John Carter turned the key in his offic
door; his clerk had gone home to dinner
Nobody will disturb US, Pierce; wha
is it,"
Mr.. Pierce groaned and turned hi
head away, then he resolutely faced MI
Carter.
"It's no use. I must tell. Carter,
want $4,000. have been rascal;
have speculated with money that didn'
belong to me, and lost it; tomorrow tn
girls guardian viii send for it. She
to be married. / don't know why
J came to you; but did! Iwant to boz
, row this money and save my wife an
children from disgrace, and myself fror
prison"
!, "You shall have it. said John Garter