Year: 1878

embarked in business disappeared " like the
snowfall on the river" He lived lavishly,
dipped freely in what, with satanic irony,
are styled % the pleasures of the town." and
generally proceeded to "make up the lost
time after the fashion of a certain class Of
young men who learn too late the full cost
of seeing the folly of it."


His father had walked him in the paths
of virtue by keeping hold Of his coat collar ;
and when the holding hand was gone he
was like structure without props. He
tippled little-genteelly of course, and as
a sort of declaration OF independence. He
gambled little, in an amateurish way
more for the fascinating flavor of the un-
lawfulness than with any settled purpose.
And in general way he "saw life" to the
death of his own best purposes and high
resolves.


His very generosity became his enemy, for
he was generous before he was just The
open hand and the free heart lost the grace
that chsracterizes them, through the debts
unpaid and the just claims dishonored that
were back of them. At the end of five
swittly-passing years Mortimer Sewall found
| his business, his credit, and his standing
all gone.


His letters home had grown less aud less
| frequent and definite in their information,
and vague reports that the absent son was
ga little wild had disturbed and distressed
the home circle. His mother wrote TO him
kindly admonitions, couched in the gentle
and guarded words with which the mother
heart seeks to smother its own fears and win
back, without apparently mistrusting, the
wayward son.


She carried her sorrow and her fear to the
closet-that unfailing refuge of heavy-laden
mothers, She plead with her God, by the
love of his own Son, TO save hers. Before
the sacred, secret altar of the home-with
mothers bowling there with pale faces and
streaming eyes, night after night, year after
year, growing old, and weak, and sad, aud
still praying on with constant hope and
serenest faith-before such a spectacle, re-
peated through almost two thousand years,
even the bodest skepticism should be timd,
and the loudest scoffer dumb Does not
survival of the spirit of prayer through so
many centuries Of asking-ofteu ignorant,
misdirected, fruitess-furnish high proof of
the divinity of the impulse and the death
lessness of faith There is nothing so sad
in the universe as the pathos of unanswered
prayer, and yet it does not quench the faith
that cries " Though he slay me, yet will
trust him l"


But what precept and example failed TO
do for Mortimer prayer did not accomplish.
He drifted from one occupation to another,
sometimes for the better, but generally for
the worse until he was in danger of the
most disastrous of all bankruptcies
loss of his self.respect. That degradation
he was saved from by iudicious friend
and the outbreak of the war.


1t was impossible to know his generous
nature, and the fine qualities of his mind,
without thoroughly liking him in spite of
his failings. A man who will share his last
dollar with you-who will strip off his over
coat and give it to a poor shivering wretch
that needs it more-whose eyes grow moist
with quick-springing tears at the sight of
suffering, or blaze with instant indignation
at the recital of wrong-who is free from
shrinking, meanness or cant-such man is
pre-eminently worth saving.


So thought Mortimer's friend Rogers, as
he met him on the morning of the second
call for troops


"Mort.," he said bluntly "you've had
good advice enough wasted on you to save
regiment of worse fellows. It's no use.
Water off from duck you know. But you
have got to switch off, or you're a goner,-
and you know it. You're on heavy down
grade, and the brakes don't take hold. You'd
pctttl chllSt. IL your last CudlCt. IL NOu
won't do it, jump into the river while you're
entitled to decent obituary. That's my
advice Goodbye"


Aud without waiting for word, his friend
passed on, leaving Mortimer to recover from
the shock and apply the hard words alone.


Rogers is a brute" he said to himself ;
but he tells the truth"


He went directly TO headquarters and en-
rolled his name in an outgoing regiment.


There's a little conspiracy among my
| friends to get me shot, he thought, as the
shortest cut out of this wretched tangle called
life. But there's no such good luck for
them. The worthless fellows bear charmed
| liyes-and I'm heavily insured in that line :"


To the war he went and made a faithful
soldier. But though he never shirked a
duty, nor shrank from danger, he felt no
deep interest in the cause.


I'm a burnt-out man. he said to com
rade one day; there's no sap nor heart in
me. Morally I'm punk, aud not sound wood"


That Sewall has the stuff for soldier
in him." said his colonel, but he bears a
paramount allegiance to-the bottle a good
fellow TO everybody but himself"


Aud so he went through the war-safe
only when removed from temptation; as
improvident capricious, and unstable as
ever But what the bullets failed to do, ex-
posure accomplished. lie was stricken with
consumption, and was mustered out of the
army only to face death in another form,
" Aud this long-range shooting | despise, y
he said in his old half-jocular vein,-" why
couldn't | have been hit, and had it over. "


At the age of thirty-three Mortimer Sewall
went back to his old home to die As he
walked feebly up the wel-remembered path,
the sweet scent of the bending ilacs, the
shrill twitter OF the startled birds, the strange
stiffness of the somber eyergreens, and the
sudden hush that seemed to have fallen on
the air, all brought back that other Nav day
when he saw them bearing the burden of
what had been his father, up the same wind
ing path.


The trees We're larger, and the house
seemed smaller than when he left his home
but the remembered face that greeted him
at the door, aud tried to veil its settled sor-
row behind a welcoming smile, was the
same. Years only deepen the mother-look
and it is mother still when the spirit has
maged itself in the dear dead face in last
smile, that looks from the coffin calm
benediction.


:" | thank God that he has brought you
safely home, my sou, she said. " / have been
expecting you for many, many years"


" 1t is the best place to die mother. 1t is
the only thing | have prayed for, fear,
since left you"


"Don't talk of dying until you see what
mothers nursing can do" she answered,
with an effort at smiling that ended in a
pathetic failure, as she looked upon his
wasting frame aud death-stamped features.


In the weary weeks that followed, the re-
turned prodigal considered seriously, for the
first time, the problem of life. Propped
upon pillows in position that commanded
view of the distant hills, or wheeled in his
easy chair into the grateful sunshine, he
would sit for hours, thinking, thinking,
thinking, but saying no word,


1t made the mothers heart ache and
yearn to watch him, but she was wise
enough TO wait-to wait and TO pray, with
out intruding even her tender love upon the
sensitive, suffering soul, until it called for
help. There are some battles that must be
fought out alone even Job did not curse
God until his "three friends came i'll
timed to comfort him.


"We'll talk it all over some day, mother,
said Mortimer, as he saw her anxious look
it's so different, find, TO face the record
when you know the books are about tc
be closed"


lie was no coward, TO shrink and tremblt
at the thought OF any penalty which might
await him in the Justice OF another world
lie who fears justice coniesses judgment
aud if he have a capacity for suffering Ii