Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1884-02-28


the winter season during the severest cold
he keeps but one fire burning, in the apart
ment which serves for kitchen and sitting
room in one, and where he prepares his
own simple meals. Adjoining this room
is his tiny study, and this looks more
homelike, because of his old companions
his books ranged upon the unpainted
shelves.
His flock consists of a hard-working class
of people, mostly miners, who believe him
to be very poor, but almost worship him fol
his goodness. Where there is sickness
where there is trouble, where there is want
his labors are most abundant and his aid is
most freely given. He does not shrink from
the hardest task. Vice and degradation dc
not repulse him, but rather enlist his warm
est and most earnest efforts. How many
stony hearts have been softened, how many
suffering hearts have been lightened of theil
load, how many crushed hearts have been
lifted up, through his ministrations, the
record Of the last day will show. In cases
of special poverty or distress, relief always
comes to them, but through a channel Of
which they cannot discover the source, eX'
cept that, in some way, they know his hands
have brought it. They do not know that II
is his own fortune which is being spent
dollar by dollar, here little and there a
little, 10 cneeT Cne utlTkIeSS ttlll cftSe tle
sorrow of the world.
But 50 it is. He has consecrated his en-
tire possessions to the attainment OF this
end, feeling it to be the best and highest
that exists and feeling also melancholy
and stern satisfaction in the knowledge that
his personal ease and comfort shall never be
advanced single degree by the wealth he
owns, since that one who should have shared
it with him is no longer at his side. Her
memory haunts him forever, and is the one
memory of his life. There is one question
which can never be laid at rest in his mind,
and that is this--was his punishment of her
fault right or wrong, just or unjust: tie
has gone over the question again and again,
and cannot answer it. He knows that ne
acted from motive which, at the time,
seemed honest and true-that he had pluck,
ed out the right eye, cut off the right
hand-but did he read this text with clear
understanding, or should he rather have fol-
lowed the one which says, Judge not, that
We be not judged, for with what measure ye
mete, it shall be meted to you again %
Full measure, pressed down and running
over, it has, indeed, been returned into his
bosom.
"Be We therefore merciful, as your Father
also is merciful."
Alas! what mercy has he shown
''Condemn not, and We shall not be con-
demned; forgive, and ye shall he forgiven y
With straining eyes, with throbbing brain,
he has searched the Scriptures through and
through, and still he seems like a man
cropping in darkness for a clew which he
cannot find. One thing he does know
whether or not he can find, in rigid self-de-
ever wrong he has done, his own efforts
shall not flag, as long as life lasts, for the
accomplishment of such atOnement.
So his existence wears itself drearily out
He would fain hope that his probation will
not be long but his health is good, in spite
of his aged looks, and long years Of painful
memory and vain regret may lie before him
still.
One day a little girl, the child of a poor
woman whom he has often visited, came to
his door, and watched him wistfully as he
sat within his lonely room. AS her shadow
fell upon the floor, he looked up.
"What do you want, little Jean ~ ne
asked.
She smiled, and came shyly forward, still
looking in his face.
"Did your mother send you for me?"
was his next question.
"No-I came myself" she answered.
"And why did you come, child?"'
jean lluIlS ilCl ltIoOSht
be-you'd like to see me-" she faltered
abashed.
"And so | do like to see yOu," he rejoined
kindly for his heart always responds to the
advances of childhood, frozen as it seems.
$50 you came to pay me visit"
Eyes. Please, may | stay ?"
"Why do you like to visit me, Jean-a
cross, old solitary man like me? There is
nothing pleasant or pretty in my house
nothing to amuse you"
81 like to be with you," said the child
frankly, "because Pm so sorry for you, and
because you've nobody else to keep you
company, not even a dog or cat ~
Silas leaned back in his chair, and sighed
heavily.
"You had better 60 and play with your
little friends, JEAN" he said in a tone that
was almost harsh. "IOu and have moth
ing in common"
The child stood without replying, then
after a moment turned slowly away. When
he went out of doors, half hour later, he
found her still lowering about, evidently
waiting for him.
"Come," he said holding out his hand; 81
am going to visit some people down your
way, and you shall walk with me, if you
like"
She gave him her hand joyfully, and ran
gaily at his side, talking of many simple
things and as he listened his chilled heart
began to thaw little, and the sunshine OF
her innocent cheerfulneSS to shed its whole
some influence upon him.
Since that time she has been his frequent
companion, and he does not reject her over
lures. 1t is a strange sympathy which
draws her to him. He feels it to be unac-
countable; but perhaps God has sent the
IN nj tho lnnllinnsS nf his
life, and cheat him out of some of his sad
memories.
In the town of Sandville, new rector
presides over Mr.. Warren's former parish
iovial man, with a stout, commonplace
wife and large family of children. They
are kind-hearted folks, and accomplish as
much good as they know; but the congre-
CATION of the little Episcopal Church has
fallen in numbers, and there is rather a
lamentable lack of earneStnesS in spiritual
affairs.
Miss Latimer leads solitary life; she
cherishes warm and true affection for the
memory of her dear friends, the Warrens
and an abiding aversion to Mr.. Hill, whom
she calls San unprincipled meddler," and
whom she will always hold, in some way
accountable for the misfortune and distress
which brought Celestine'S life to an untime.
ly end.
An now my tower true tale' is told and
there is no more to be written. What
have related, has been related without any
wish to bias the opinion of those who may
care to read it, one way or the other. There
are some who will condemn Silas, Others
who will probably uphold him in his course
| know that, right or wrong, he has always
acted from a sense of duty, however disas'
trous the result has proved, and is therefore
to be pitied rather than blamed. AS to his
wife, who shall condemn her now? Hel
faults, if she had any-and who has not :