Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-06-29

"And well said for n brave lass"
not man to make complaint, but yester.
day l was hurt to death in my tenderest
part"
Why" said I, 1.-The knave surely shot
not true. You are not wounded You rode
away briskly enough"
Yea" said Sir James, wounded am /
to the heart: for he that shot at me with
intent to take my life was my eldest son
Philip"
At hearing of which the life as 1t were
went from me, and had cen to sit down
on settle to keep from falling. For then,
indeed. l knew that my friend. who SEEM
ed so mirthful and full Of good cheer, had
all the time canker worm gnawing at
his heart.
At last he lifted his head, and saw that
the book he read in was Burton's. Mel
ancholy,'' the little. square look of the
earliest imprint, which so many count next
to their Bibles.
Yet judged it to be nightly unsuitable
reading for one 50 afflicted as he; there
fore, as the right of mine office was, !
directed him to lay 1T aside and turn to
suitable passages of Scripture. And In
especial l counseled him to mediate upon
the mystical meaning of certain verses In
the Canticles ana in Ezekiel, upon which
l had preached with great comfort to my
self for one year In my last pastoral
charge. / was proceeding to expound some
of these to him, when he broke out upon
me in a way that was certainly not we'll
becoming in a man of his years and pro-
fession.
Tut, tutr' he said; I'VE are over much
given, Mr. Bell. to speak upon matters We
have small understanding of. I find mora
egg-meat in a page of honest Burton than
in all the songs of King Solomon--who to
my mind might have employed himself
better.'
you speak as a carnal man, and not as
elder, Sir James, I said to him. for 1
was ever firm with him; know you not
that these things are to be interpreted
after the spir.t?"
"Bide we, Master Bell. till We ken some
thing about it, said he; "til We
man with a family and no comfort in them
your home perpetual trawl your sons
either dogs that bite or ours that snap
your wife perpetually peevish Of counte-
nance, acid of tonsue-will you then biGe
1t all meekly as a stranger tyke that claps
its tail between legs and scurries down the
public way when other messans yelp. I
ken you ministers. specially the younger
sort of you that have rolled tests and
indulgences.' like sweet morsels. under
your tongues; we would take 1t upon you
to prescribe for death wounds from your
experience Of the aching Of your own little
fingers
Now during my life. which after all has
been but forty years, I have found great
benefi. in knowing when to forbear speech
angry jaw go by This I did at this pres
ent knowing that like the scent of rose
water and balm after a shower in June, so
the pleasant countenance of my friend
And so it proved, for In little he turn
ed his eyes upon me. having shut his book.
81 pray you pardon me. good friend"
he said; my black choler hath infected
my heart, and my jll-tempers break out
most readily on them that I love the
most
With that he put forth his hand to me,
and being of an easy heart. 1 took it in
mine and was affected to tears. So our
friendship was made up Of new, and that
never to be broken up any more. He was
silent long season, but at the last he
found his speech.
Mr. Bell" said he, "I will be plain with
you. for plainness is best among friends.
have too long let my heart know its own
bitterness. 1 will no longer make
stranger of you. 1t is not my debts, as
many think, that trouble me; for since
these Englishmen, cloth weavers and
merchants umphray spurway and his
have put me in a good and easy way of
life. 1t is that have no comfort in my
family. My wife loves me not but cries
cut upon me continually that I am hard
to the children My eldest you have seen
pursue me to the death; and now my
younger, to whom I had conveyed my es-
tate, having disherished my son Philip, is
become even as the other. And this is the
more bitter to me. because that my heart
and NY hope were set upon him. Now his
brother, who is the most debauched man
| IN four counties, has so infected John that
OF late he has ofttimes come home in drink
| even as the other. Tell me, was ever man
| so driven by his own?"
| Then l eounseled him to try If there was
| not yet some hope of winning his heart
| Il will come with you,'' I said to encour-
| age him. land it may be that his heart
may be moved by my advice, especially
after the miscarriage of his evil enterprise
| upon the Lead Hills"
! Bat Sir James shook his head.
The lad is too bitterly Joined to his idols
| Once he took service in the Scots regiment
! abroad, and l thought that would settle
! him: but he was confined in prison, and
| got him delivered by my influence with our
| ambassador at the Hague. Then he was
| condemned to death at Treves and 1 pro-
| vided money wherewith he bri5e1 his jail
| ers and so made his escape. I have receiv-
| ed him into mine own house since his re-
| turn. And after all my care and tender
ness 1t Is come to that pass of it that when
1 go to my own fireside l know not whether
| shall get my supper or musket shot in
my wame."
| providence may yet soften his heart" I
said. though, indeed, I saw no great pros
| pect.
"Ay." replied Sir James. ut may.