The Canton advocate. [volume] (Canton, D.T. [S.D.]) 1877-1897, 1881-06-23

Even Jcphthah, whose rash and sweep
ing pledge to the Deity had involved thu
5 offering Of his only daughter in dark ant
mysterious doom, had not shrunk from
the terrible exaction. Saul, in n moment o.
: haste, had condemned a'possible Offende
to death; and 10 it proved to be Jonathan
who must meet the bolt Of faith, and onl,
the majestic protest Of the united nation
had availed to save him. The Bible wa
an armory which bristlcd with weapons
turned constantly against the Deacon's con
science. And while he sat at the head Of
his table, silent, constrained, and gloomy
imposing an unwholsome and irritating re
preston on wife and children, a fiery bat
tie was raging within him. He grew t.
dread Agnes sweet, composed face, where
the patience that could wait indefinitely
and hold its own to the last, was already
stamped Madonna-like dignity. Often,
as he saw Edgar Murray in church, he tel,
that he was unreasonable i'll opposing his
suit. There could be no valid objection to
pure, steady, wcll-educated and konora-
bic young man, % loved his daughter,
and whose love she returned. The Obsti-
nate antagonism of his dislike had no
foundation which could be sustained by
arguments.
DAYS wore on. Months and seasons
yaned. The apple trees blossomed, ripened,
| and were shOrn of their fruit. Successive
harvests were reaped. And then the tide
of good fortune turned, and the deacon had
a new experience. He lost money Appa-
rently stable investments collapsed. His
eldest son went to distant state. A horse
of which he was proud was carelessly tied,
and famed in consequence. A tavorite
Alderney sickened and died. The barn took
fire and was consumed. None Of the losses,
ESQ far, were crushing; but the aggregate
bore heavily on the Deacon and made him
very sad. AS he sat in his armchair or
followed the plow, he felt that the warfare
of the Almighty had assumed tangible
form, and that His arrows were being
aimed for his destruction.
One sorrowful day there came a greater
loss. The hand of paralysis was laid upon
the meek and ever-submissive wife, and
she lay for hours in that death-in-lite which
is so horrible and so inscrntable. Now was
the cup of calamity full and running over
Never demonstrative nor q very loving
husband, the Deacon had felt n true respect
and Il complacent proprietary affection for
the woman who had given herself in the
radiant bloom Of her girlhood, when she
had chosen him from many suitOrs. AL
ways had she been u faithful wife, diligen.
frugal and obedient to his wishes. When
she passed softly away, amid the sobs of
her Children he shed no tear; but Gods
lightning had, nevertheless, smitten his
soul. When she lay, queenly, in silent
state, In the house where she had been
chief servant rather than mistress, he sat for
hours i'll the room, living over long years, and
suffering poignant remOrse, which none
knowing the man would have imagined
possible. When he followed the'hearse to
the family lot where the Camer0ns had
been buried for generations, he was bowed
under All anguish as deep as it was I'M
speakable. Agnes slid her hand into his;
but he scarQe}X &a2t the pressure, though !
he suffered E. D1S(l him home like alit-
tie child, after the earth had been packed |
upon the coffin.
A few days crcpt on-nterminably long |
in the abode of mourning-and one night |
the family were gathered for worship. The
Deacon took the Bible, and slowly turned
the leaves until he came to the sixty-sixth
psalm. In voice low and deep with emo
ton he read these words
For thou, o God, hast proved us. Thou
hast tried us as silver is tried. Thou
brOughtest us into the net. Thou laidest |
affection upon our loins. Thou hast caus-
ed men to ride over our heads. We went
through fire and through water; but Thou
broughtest us out unto wealthy place. I
will go unto Thy house with burnt offer
ings. l will pay Thee my vows, which my
lips have uttered and my mouth hath sp0-
ken when l was in trouble"
The Deacon paused. Children ne |
said, Il have had controversy with the
Lord. have made vows, but have not |
paid them. The Lord is too much for Al
exander Cameron. shall resist him no |
longer. have been vain, conceited and |
stubborn; fond Of my own way and care
full Of my own interest. But now I shall
begin again, if l may. and seek, if haply he !
let me find him, my wife's God. Your
mother was nearer to him than l. Hugh,
ask the pastor to come hither tomorrow. |
want to help him with my substance Ag-
mes, daughter, Edgar Murray may come as
you list, and will give him my child and
my blessing. Let us pray
AS his way was, the Deacon, hav.n ny be-
gun, paid his vows to the uttermost. The
evening of his life was sweet with thank
tulness; and when the sturdy babes of Ed
gar and Agnes clambered on his knees and
held fast to his hand, they thought in the
wide world there was nobody so kind ID
good as grandfather.