The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1881-03-10

|
ed the slippery places upon which he
stood that she was able to endure the
spectacle.
But time goes on, and everything is
short that it can measure. Joseph Eliots
life had been long one, as men reckon
life; his threescore years and ten had
passed; but the end came. A neighbor
going by Miss BENEFITS door, one morn
ing, paused to tell the news that Mr.. Eliot
was very sick. Her curiosity was awak
ened; she inquired the particulars of his
illness, and after her neighbor departed
wondered with her sister if they had sent
for any Of the children The next morn
ing, as she was washing dishes in the
kitchen, a stroke of the church bell came
upon her with sudden shock, and her
heart beat a little faster as she turned to
meet her sister who was coming in from
the post-otfice.
at is Mr.. Eliot" said Miss Phebe. ale
died last night"
Miss Lydia wiped her hands upon her
apron and sat down by the window I'M
nerved by the news. The door was sud
denly shut in the face of her active and
| living hatred, and as it turned away,
| baftted and unsatisfed, she saw its face.
There are delicate spiritual premOnitlons
and perceptions that are beyond analysis;
and by some intuition her soul discerned
upon its far horizon the shadow of a fear
"a dim foreboding of something as yet
unknown and far away-that was draw
ing near to alarm her.
A neighbor dropped in; she listened
to the talk that always follows death
| SnpPnl0tIOOS { tO tho funeral and the fin
ture plans of the survivors. She took
part in the conversation with the surface
current of her thought, but there was a
deeper consciousness that was silent, I'M
easy and almost afraid. She went about
her duties softly, and alone at night,
when she put out her candle, the dark
ness was like a presence in the room.
She lay awake long time, her eyes wide
open, her mind unnaturally active, and
her memory busy with the past, dragging
forth from the dark corners Of forgettul-
ness the scenes and incidents Of years
gone by, until fancy began to mingle
with recollection, her consciousness grew
misty, and she passed to the more vivid
and intense life of dreams.
! When she aWoke in the morning her
| presentment had drawn nearer, and
though she turned away and closed her
mental vision, it was too late she knew
what it was. 1t was a shadowy misgiv-
ing Of herself, concerning what, she
would not think
Her sister spoke Of the coming funeral.
Il suppose we ought to go, for the
speech of people" she said. "There'll
be folks from ont Of town, and they'll
think its queer if we are not there, living
SO near the church"
Miss Lydia shrank from going, but she
would not admit to herself that she was
afraid or ashamed to be present. She
found her doubt there awaiting her, and
as she grew more defiant it grew more
bold. She was swayed by the influence
of the place and hour the lifeless form
OF the one she had so relentlessly pursued
seemed silently to reproach her, and her
doubt spoke plainly
''llave been just in my past judgment
of this man Is it not possible | have
| been mistaken ,"
She glanced uneasily at the weeping
| relatives and saw herself in the unwOnt-
ed light of anOther's estimation She had
always been law unto herself, careless
Of all other opinions but now she saw
how she must appear to the grief
widow against whom she had never been
able to bring a worse accusation than that
she 'sympathized with her husband" She
felt the altered public mood, and that
there were some present who looked at
| her with curiosity or condemnation.
But Miss Lydias spirit was not one to
cover long in selt-reproach. She turned
aside these feelings with confident self
Justification and stared boldly about the
assembled congregation, recalling all the
just cause she had had for her enmity,
and sneering inwardly at the tribute paid
the dead. Her mind turned with relief
from the subject when all was over, and
she gladly hurried home.
"Well,' said her sister, placidly, as
they were taking off their bonnets, lit
does seem strange how different you
feel when folks are gone. We are i'm
perfect creatures, and | am afraid in
some things we were most 100 hard on
Mr.. Eliot"
While Miss Phebe Benefits shallow
experience thus found complete and calm
expression, it stirred painful depths in
Miss Lydia's soul to hear her own mis-
giving shaped in words; and her doubt
grew 50 persistent that at last she turned
and faced it.
"What If did 2" she retorted "I'm
not perfect; but have done, right along,
what | believe to be my duty. You can't
think so hard of folks when they are gone"
This was a dangerous admission to
make, but in the line of her convictions
she was honest and she would not take it
back. Her inward accuser at once took
up the new position she had accorded as
a vantage ground for renewed demands.
while she began to feel a gentle but grad
ually increasing spiritual pressure, con-
straint upon her inclination, a vague i'm
pulse of duty, a whispered "Ought l e'
1t was as if there stood beside her some
one waiting, who, though often ignored
and forgotten, was always there, and now
and then touched her, asking to be heard,
while whispering voices filled her ears,
and her trouble grew upon her, until she
gradually became conscious of distinct
suggestion that if she had done wrong
to Joseph Eliot it had been deep and ter
rible,-a wrong that demanded all the
eXpiation in her power, and an acknow-
ledgment of error as public as had been
her accusations, even to making formal
confession OF her sin before the church
and people of her native town.
She prepared herself by earnest prayer
for guidance, and receiving the sugges-
ton freely endeavored to look at the mat
ter calmly by the light of reason and
judgment. A careful self-eXamination
only confirmed the decision she had origi-
nally made, that the demand was mons
trous and unreasonable, and that the
voice within her was not the voice of
God. The shock of Mr.. Eliot's death had
awakened an over sensitive conscience
and in her morbid brooding over the mat
ter, she had mistaken the unhealthy action
of a mind unnaturally excited for the
promptings Of duty. Whatever mistakes
she had made in the past, in the main
purpose of her life she had sought the
glory of God and the honor of his name