Morris tribune., 1889-05-15

"The Closing OF tho Doors"
One of the most pathetic stories ever
told is that by James Payn. the novelist,
In the May Forum. He writes:
When was q boy, one OF the many things that
puzzle boys, and which they artEoo proud to ask
to be explained to them, was what was the mean
growing very deaf.
He analyses the progressive oncoming
of the terrible affliction with the minute
ness of a dying physician watching his
own life fading out. At the first he heard
everything with abnormal keenness. He
heard far too we'll. At night there were
sudden explosions in his brain, like the
bursting of a powder magazine. There
was sound about him like the buzzing
of hive of bees, and sometimes like the
roar of breakers, though he lived inland.
The sounds, though, were within his
head, as he gradually learned. Just as
gradually he found that external sounds
were growing duller. Then he found
himself saying sharply "What" very
often. People had somehow got into a
foolish habit of mumbling their words.
At last, but not for good while, the hor-
rible truth flashed on him that he was
becoming deaf. :
He consulted doctor and an a,1rist.
The doctor told him the trouble came
from nervous prostration. The aurist
said: &+
"What is the matter with you is ner-
vous deafness. Something has occurred
to shock or depress you"
"He was quite right, says the novelist,
quietly. Then he refers no more to this
part of the subject.
The aurist told him what he wanted
was fresh air and a constant supply of
good news. Then Payn continues in the
same strain of submissive melancholy,
which is infinitely sadder than any down
right complaining could be: -
Since then have been getting gradually worse
The pleasure of conversation have lost
forever, which, being so. can write Of it, as few
others can, without passion or prejudice, as the
true biographer writes of dead man. For the
such as kindly guests at table are moved to throw
to the dog whose Importantly is disagreeable to
the rest Of the company
To some people it may seem small thing to
know that they shall never again hear bird sing
or even a cuckoo clock strike, or even to lose the
conversation Of their friends But to me the re-
Election is very sad one. People seem
to me to be made to laugh SO much more easily
than they used to be. Heaven knows do not
grudge them their mirth But it Is sad to have to
ask my sweet patient companion Cat the play)wha
has been said ana while she is telling me, to the
great discomfort of my neighbors, we lose the
next speech, and perhaps the thread Of the play.
deaf man is always at least one speech behind
the rest of the world. Let us hope we get our
hearing back. with all other good things We miss,
in heaven. .--.s
By the by, / wonder who has got my hearing?
Force ef any kind, men OF science tell Us. Is never
lost but must needs go somewhere or other j
hope whoever has nay hearing win have the Same
pport1nities and make as good use Of Il as did
what bright and genial utterances, Whist asssar.
ances Of love and friendship have entered st those
once open doorsl Ihave listened TO speech that
has been better than 'silver,n and now that shall
hear it no more how inestimable It seemsi As
the man who has lost his sight pictures with the
mental eyes that are still left to him the pheasant
fields and farms - the sea with its ''innumerable
SMILE and the well remembered faces OF his dear
ones, SO conjure up with the same tender sense
Of loss and melancholy joy the conversation of
my friends. ...-- s.------ ~