Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1904-12-23
A SPRAY OF WHITE HEATHER,

This quotation from the writings of Re
I DR.. Henry van Dyke is from his essa
{ "A Handful Of Heather" In the volun
. OF Little Rivers" published by Chari,
Scribner's Sons. In literary style.
sentiment, and In its revealing OF tn
deep things of life, II represents th
: gifted author at his best.
White heather is not an easy flower I
find. You may look for 1t among tn
! highlands for day without success,
And when 1t is discovered there is littl
outward charm to commend It. 1t lack
the grace of the dainty bells that hang s
abundantly from the Erica Tetralix. an
the pink glow Of the innumerable bios
SONS of the common heather But thel
1t Is a symbol. 1t is the Scotch Edel
weiss 1t means sincere affection, an,
unselfish love, and tender wishes as pur
as prayers. 1 shall always remembe
the evening when l found the whit,
heather on the moorland above Gler
Ericht. Or, rather, 1t was not I thai
round IL uor L have little luck in the
discovery of good omens, and have never
plucked a four-leaved clover in my life)
put my companion, the gentle Mistress
of the Glen, whose hair was winter than
the tiny blossoms, and yet whose eyes
were far quicker than mine to see and
name every flower that bloomed in those
lofty, widespread fields.
Ericht water is formed by the marriage
OF TWO streams, one flowing out of Strath
Ardle and the other descending from
| Cairn Gowar through the long, lonely
Pass of Glenshee. The Ericht begins AT
the bridge OF Colly, and its placid, beau
tlful glen, unmarried by railway or factory,
| reaches almost down to Blairgowrie. On
the Southern bank, but far above the
water, runs the highroad to BRAKEMAN and
the Linn of Dee. On the other side Of
the river nesting among the trees, is the
low, white manor-house,
IAN ancient home of peace"
1t is place where one who had been
wearied and perchance sore wounded
in the battle Of life might well desire to
be carried, as Arthur to the island valley
OF Avilion. for rest and healing
l have no thought of renewing the con-
fiicts and cares that filled that summer
with sorrow. There were fightings with
out and fears within; there was the sur
render OF an enterprise that had been
cherished since boyhood, and the bitter
sense of irremediable weakness that fol-
lows such reverse; there was a touch
OF that wrath with those we love which.
as Coleridge says,
Doth work like madness in the BRAIN,
and, flying from these troubles across the
sea, 1 had found my old comrade of
merrier days sentenced to DEATH and
caught but a brief glimpse of his pale
brave face as he went away into exile AT
such time the sun and the light and
the moon and the stare are darkened
and the clouds return after rain. Rut
through those hn
Glen came to meet me-a stranger till
then, but an appointed friend, a minister
OF needed grace. an angel of quiet comfort.
The thick mists of rebellion, mistrust and
despair have long since rolled away and
against the background of the hills her
inquire stands out clearly dressed in the
fashion OF fifty years ago, with the snowy
hair gathered close beneath her widows
capN and spray of white heather i'm her
outstretched hand
There were no other guests in the house
by the river during those still days in the
central peace OF midsummer. Every
morning while the Mistress was busted
with her household cares and letters. /
would be out in the fields hearing the lark
sing, and watching the rabbits as they
ran TO and fro scattering the dew from
the grass in glittering spray. Or per-
haps 1 would be angling down the river.
with the swift pressure of the water
current of cooling thoughts flowing on
and on through my brain like the muir
muir OF the stream. Every afternoon
there were long walks with the Mistress
In the old-fashioned garden, where WON
derful roses were blooming; or through
the dark, hr-shaded den where the wild
burn dropped down to join the river; or
out upon the high moor under the wan
ing orange sunset. Every night there
were luminous and restful talks beside
the open fire in the library, when the
words came. clear and calm from the
heart, unperturbed by the vain desire of
saying brilliant things which turns SO
much of our conversation into a combat
OF wits instead of an interchange of
thoughts. Talk like this is possible only
between two. The arrival of a third per- |
son sets the lists for a tournament and
offers the prize of appreciation for a YER |
bal victory. But where there are only
two the armor is laid aside, and there |
Is no call to thrust and parry. One of |
the two should be a good listener, SYM |
pathetic but not silent, giving confidence
in order to attract it-and of this art a |
woman is the best master. But its finest |
secrets do not come to her until she has
passed beyond the uncertain season of
compliments and conquests and entered |
into the serenity of a tranquil age
The conversation of the Mistress of the |
Glen shone like the light and distilled like |
the dew, not only by virtue of what she |
said, but still more by virtue of what she |
was. Her face was a good counsel against |
and the cheerful uuie-
tude of her demeanor was rebuke to all |
rebellious, cowardly and disconnected
thoughts. 1t was not the striking novelty |
or profundity of her commentary on life |
that made 1t memorable; 1t was simply |
the truth of what she said and the gentle
ness with which she said it, Epigrams
are worth little for guidance to the per-
picked and less for comfort to the wound
ed. But the plain, homely sayings which |
come from soul that has learned the
lesson of patient courage in the school
of real experience, fall upon the wound
like drops of balsam, and like a soothing
lotion upon the eyes smarting and blind
ed with passion.
She spoke of those who had walked
with her long ago in her garden, and for
whose sake, now that they had all gone
INTO the world OF light, every flower was
doubly dear Would 1t be a true proof of
loyalty to them If she lived gloomily or
despondently because they were AWAY?
hn 80