Evening star., 1914-12-20
Drawing by c. Clyde Squires


sweetest voice of all Gods creatures"
Back in a corner of the dark church, my
presence unsupported, listened with mingled
emotions to the ending of the Christmas carol.
1t was the final effort of the choirmaster on
Christmas Eve, and he seemed pleased with
the showing his boys had made as he turned
a beaming, jolly face back from the organ.
Books and carols were now tucked away, and
the boys filed out, with mods and chuckles,
and each with @Merry Christmas, MI. Sands!'
as they passed into the vestry. Soon could
hear them in the street outside. Their voices
grew fainter as they went off in the wntry
air, some of them whistling snatches of the
carol they had just sung.
The tallest chorister was left alone. "Just
one moment, Boy l heard the organist say,
and then he began to play softly, and ISRAELI
again lifted up his voice.
Some impulse as yet unanalyzed had led
me into the church. The door stood open as
l passed alone in the dark, and the quiet in
terror, the fresh smell of the evergreen wreaths,
the distant light in the choir while all the
church lay in darkness, tempted me inside.
! was tired, and l sank thankfully down in a
remote corner.
Years indeed had passed since l had seen a
Northern Christmas. l had returned to New
York almost stranger. In my young days
there had been children parties, large family
dinners, hosts of friendly calls and gifts The
memory seemed like dream. An old man,
had come back at last after wandering and
varied career, with my family reduced and
scattered by death or family feuds, and the few
friends l might have claimed ready to look
askance at the shadows in my life that in
honor could not explain away. Even Esther
nv little sister, had drifted away from me in
bitterness and misunderstanding.
True, did not lack money, and the am
bition that had led me so far afield into the
remote regions of South America had been
richly gratified. 1t seemed to me that in pro-
portion as my dreams of success had been
realized my personal and spiritual happiness
had decreased. Much had been sacrificed for
it, many other aims abandoned Hardships
and sundered my small family in the course of
suit for wealth. And now had no one to er
hard-won treasure with me. Life was practie
hind me.
HOW is it possible, in case like mine, l asked
- not to become embittered? The soul gre
in giving and living for others. And l was al
alone in the city of my birth, not friend i
house | would not feel an intruder on Christn
What would l not give for son or daughter
young wife had long since lost to share the al
ing day with me9
looked at the row of devotional books in
before me, just visible in the dim light. l rem
reading in the Revelation about the "bottoml
abode of horrors unspeakable. knew that ha
into the bottomless pit of my own soul; for ha
hate, jealousy, envy, suspicion, every ugly sill
had been taught to despise, when had allowe
to doubt my wife. How bitterly had looked
growing friendship with another man, how unt
able had been my suspicion and jeaousy,-all t
because l felt that there was something in he
that could not reach as this man did! Was 81
of me? Her denial of my furious accusation
WINGED me of her hypocrisy.
As looked back l realized that l had bee
thrall of terrible obsession sort of baffled en-
whelmed me when l saw that l was far from bel
all to her. | would not listen to her explanation
attempted confidence. She had long been com
of our exile from home Let her go backl | sal