St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-10-07
The CONTENTS OF A CASKET.
On Bed of Death Guilty Woman Confesses Sin--The
Teltale Letter Destroyed--Forgiven by
Noble Husband.

/ well known hand. and seemed to read
once more the passionate words OF love
that had been so fatally sweet, that had
lured me along that perilOuS road, that
had almost. almoSt-Oh, thank God. not
Quite-taught me forgetfulneSS of duty,
honor, purity; all save itself and its
passionate pleas and and selfish allure
mentS.
Involuntarily, so it seemed, tried to
grasp that fatal packet; the one desire
for safety, for concealment, for the
preservation of my poor shreds OF dig
nifty and honor alone pre-eminent. But
again heard the voice. and it stayed
the impulse, and trembling and wonder
inc | obeved its will. Listen" it said,
'sfor am permitted to offer you one
chance of eXpiating your folly and your
sin. You may leave this earth life, the
hypocrite yOn know yourself; you may
stand in your husbands sight the cold
and pure and stainless being he has
worShipped with all his great trusting
heart. For his nObleneSS far exceeds
YOUR worth as the eternal love exceeds
the finite. He believes in you.
VIII you leave him in that belief or
will you take his scOrn and con-
domination as your just punishment,
and in humility and pain take up again
the burden of years that you have spent
in folly and vanity? The choice is
yours. Yet let me warn you that even
as every human sin is known to the
soul that commits it. so by that soul is
it judged and punished and eXpiated.
This is the law of the Eternal, this is the
secret of every life that lives, and
which it must learn and from which it
can not escape. What you see on yOn-
der bed is but the poor, plastic, perish
ing shell to which you were lent for
brief space. That which is yourself in
habits it no longer. See how poor
thing il is! Where is its beauty, its
grace. its charm, that won for you its
feeble, impOtent prise of humanity itself?
Gone Gone like the breath on
mirror, the ripple on a lake, the breeze
that signs and is not. And for that
for that frail, perishable thing you have
held that life is all-important. For that
you have schemed and planned and
decked yourself in gay apparel and
costly gems; for that you have Sinned;
for that you have forgotten your Master
and Creator. For that-and its poor
shred of conventional integrity, you
would even now close your life record
with sin-the sin of deceit There
is your casket. Take it if you
Il
wronged. Leave him to his self de-cep-
tion-Leave him and take with you
the remOrSe that is Gods only hell-the
pitiful, humiliating sense of what you
are, and from which you cannot escape.
Leave him thus, or return to yonder
shell, and with your last breath be hon.
est to that better nature which God has
given every mortal. Confess your
wrong dOing-Yea, even at the cost of
his long-waSted love, and the gain of
his scOrn and contempt, make your eX-
piation."
| listened. 1t seemed to me that 1
covered and trembled beneath those IA
diant eyes, that strange sense of
nakedneSS and GOODNESS, and small and
pitiful meanneSS was all of which | was
conscious at that moment. No excuse
offered itself. No platitudes and pretty
sophiStrieS such as in my gay worldly
hours l had heard and used thousand
times. No eXtenuatiOn of lonely life,
ali uncOngeniaI home, temperament
and nature misunderstood, such as
many women shield their actions
with, while they all too eagerly
palter with temptation, lacking
the moral courage to speak of
sin as it is, of themselves as they
are! No, plain and clear as light itself,
| saw my folly and read my condemna-
ton, and suddenly wave of intense
and terrible agony seemed to over
Whelm what was Sentimen and reason
able within me, and in bitter grief |
cried out, Let me return! L will con-
fess! l will be honest, cost what it
may"