Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-02-01

an agile impulse. twas an absurd man.
ner Of entering a graveyard if he had had
an object in gaining ingress. He went
swiftly along one of the paths, kicking
restlessly at the occasional twigs which
had escaped the vigilant rakes of the
brethren.
The enclosure was called a cemetery,
and this was certainly its use, but the
casual glance would have supposed it
scrupulousIy kept park. The evidences
of its real character were neither prOfuse
nor obtrusiYe, and ones feeling in alight-
ing upon them would have been rather a
surprised pleasure than the unreasOning
chill that commonly shames one in the
presence Of like emblems. Those slabs
which yield tribute of rather touching
futility to the dotted tenement OF the
soul the world over We're distinguished by
their attitude. 1t was Tecumbent. and
the slate or marble blocks offered IA de-
liDerateiy meagre record of those who Law
below. About them the lindens and ma
pies which lined the paths made pleas
ant shade and flung their broad shadows
on the freshening grass. Scatter, d young
laTches and jumpers strOYe toward their
neighbors' loftier heads, and the young
towering shrubs, which would be gay
points of color later, feeling the amIable
spring in their juices, were dOubtlully
decorating themselves With green. There
Is no reason TO suppose that there was
willow in the enclosure. The low paling
insinuated without emphasizing the
limits of the grounds.
If dense grOwths of thyme occasional
~ all but hid the modest stone records,
nothing else was allowed to grow dense
ly. The trees and shrubs were Topped
back and the sunshine was everywhere.
One trusted the affirmation that the birds
gathered more thickly here than else
where was something better than an en-
gaging legend. The manner of the place
was clear and notable outcome Of the
MOraVian theory of life. In this theory
death is the joyful elimination of years
of placid preparing. If death was desira-
bic, however. it was not as an escape
from life, which to their sense was a fell
citOuS and grateful seasOn-a long OPP
p0rtUnity of gladness. As for the burial
plot, all the leisure of the village beguiled
itself IL it; ana the housewives in espe-
cial spent their numerous vacant
hours knitting and gossiping upon the
benches with which the place was large
ly furnished.
The cemetery was deserted now, how
ever, and to one of these benches March
directed his steps.
Placing himself upon it he rolled and
lighted a cigarette, and sat putting at it
and staring rather Yengefully into Vacan-
cy. 1t was obvious that he had been
guilty of an Offense, an indiscretiOn,
mistake-what one would; but the nature
OF it was by no means so clear-WhateVer
its character it was unfortunately certain
that it touched Miss Van elect. He re-
Elected that he might have gene away I'M
consciously stained by it, and he was
properly grateful for the accident which
had kept him. There We're doubtless nu-
merous persons who might resolve his
difficulty; indeed that might prove the
least tOlerable feature of his position.
Possibly the very boys held the key; all
the society might have been looking on at
his stupidity, wondering, waiting for him
to learn his error. March felt like a blind
man who had been suffered to walk
steadily on toward an obstruction with
out warning from the gaping bystanders.
A figure entered at one of the gates and
passed spectrally before his preoccupied
vision. AS he went by on path beyond
March recognized him. He called his
name, and Conrad HE'D, turning with his
ready smile, perceived him, and picking
his way between the graves came over
and stood before him.
You have been drawn here also, Broth
err March? We all love the cemetery, but
we would suppose you might find 1t lone
ly. Some do not have our thoughts Of
death, you know" apologized the young
brother.
Conrad" said March, irrelevantly, 81
want to ask you something, or rather"
smiled he. sGlf-cOnVictingly, Il want to
know something which l don't greatly
want to ask YOU
1T will be very pleasing
sit down with me moment, Conrad"
Throwing away MS cigarette March
went on absently:
Tell me plainly" said he suddenly,
sitting arppt and fnr0iOp toward him
the bench, II know you hedge the rela-
tiOns of your brethren and sisters IN
general way-but do you prohibit all in
tercOurse? frankly, do you forbid CONVEX
satiOn between them"
Conrad blushed painfully.
''NOt-not exactly as you may say for
bid we don't encourage it,
IF you, as a pOstulant-an intending
priest Of your church-were to see an UNI
married brother and sister pause in the
street below there to speak TO each other
what would you think your duty?
Il do not know" answered Conrad,
doubtfully. "You put hard questions
'-Oh, well, l don't look for soft answers
Conrad; | am merely engaged in a little
hunt for Truth. Let me make it easier for
yOu-suppOse you saw them repeat such
an actionP
Il should feel it right to speak to Mr.
KeatOr of it," replied the young mar.
The rule seems clear, at all events"
said March.
1T is not what you could call rule
not that exactly" returned Conrad, has
tening his slow speech; lit is a CUSTOM"
''With the force of rule"
"Rule?' inquired Conrad, straining to
hear. eve have not any rule but love-"
said he, quantity.
"One would say rather that you have
every rule but love"
Conrad scrutniZed mis- companions face
in distress.
Il mean nothing to the djscredit of the
society,"" smiled March. i intend to say
riage.''
"Ohr' said Conrad, his round. deep-set
eyes Frightening with comprehension.
But we wish to encourage marriage"
by keeping high wall between your
men and WOmenY'
is it possible that you 60 not know,
Brother March?V
'-What?"
Our mode Of forming what the world
calls engagements
Il think | should like to know, Con-
rad" said March, with a note of deeper
seriousness in his voice, ard rising merry
ously he stood in the gravel path confront
ing the young brother.
Our marriages are made by lot" said
Conrad, looking up athim anXiously. II
thought you knew that"
BY lot? DO you mean? Why, what
do you mean, COnradW cried March, stu
pidly.
Conrad put his hand to his ear.
Lot; yes, lot. 1t seems as if iC were
quite simple to us. We have known it so
long. perhaps. When one of the brethren
wishes to marry the Eldress of the single
sisters choir presents list to the Confer
ence. The lot tells us which sister our
Lord wills to be his wife; or if the brother
should feel a preference the lot is first
tried for the sister he names. That is
all"
That is a great deal,7 commented
March, briefly.
"Ies, it seems strange to you, Brother
March, l suppose" said Conrad, regard
ing him with a questioning smile. cit is
very dear to us-tO most Of us. Some
times the young people find it hard; but
in the end they most always bear the
yoke without much complaint. 1t is their
training, | should guess. We are taught
to submit ourselves from the first, and it
comes easy after a while. IL their wishes
stand in the way OF our SaviOur's will
they generally feel it a privilege to sub
due them; they are not forced to, of
course. But they feel it a Gala direct
call, as you might say, and they mostly
obey"
But the pair do not know each other.
1t is like Royal marriage or Turkish
marriage"
hsAf / 4