diff options
Diffstat (limited to '2685-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2685-0.txt | 1814 |
1 files changed, 1814 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2685-0.txt b/2685-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b2c43e --- /dev/null +++ b/2685-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1814 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way to Peace, by Margaret Deland + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Way to Peace + +Author: Margaret Deland + +Posting Date: January 10, 2009 [EBook #2685] +Release Date: June, 2001 +Last Updated: November 4, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY TO PEACE *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer + + + + + +THE WAY TO PEACE + +By Margaret Deland + + + + + TO LORIN DELAND + + KENNEBUNKPORT, MAINE AUGUST 12TH, 1910 + + + + + +I + +ATHALIA HALL stopped to get her breath and look back over the road +climbing steeply up from the covered bridge. It was a little after five, +and the delicate air of dawn was full of wood and pasture scents--the +sweetness of bay and the freshness of dew-drenched leaves. In the valley +night still hung like gauze under the trees, but the top of the hill was +glittering with sunshine. + +“Why, we’ve hardly come halfway!” she said. + +Her husband, plodding along behind her, nodded ruefully. “Hardly,” he +said. + +In her slim prettiness Athalia Hall looked like a girl, but she was +thirty-four. Part of the girlishness lay in the smoothness of her white +forehead and in the sincere intensity of her gaze. She wore a blue linen +dress, and there was a little, soft, blue scarf under her chin; her +white hat, with pink roses and loops of gray-blue ribbon, shadowed +eager, unhumorous eyes, the color of forget-me-nots. Her husband was +her senior by several years--a large, loose-limbed man, with a scholarly +face and mild, calm eyes--eyes that were full of a singular tenacity of +purpose. Just now his face showed the fatigue of the long climb up-hill; +and when his wife, stopping to look back over the glistening tops of the +birches, said, “I believe it’s half a mile to the top yet!” he agreed, +breathlessly. “Hard work!” he said. + +“It will be worth it when I get to the top and can see the view!” she +declared, and began to climb again. + +“All the same, this road will be mighty hot when the sun gets full on +it,” her husband said; and added, anxiously, “I wish I had made you +rest in the station until train-time.” She flung out her hands with an +exclamation: “Rest! I hate rest!” + +“Hold on, and I’ll give you a stick,” he called to her; “it’s a help +when you’re climbing.” He pulled down a slender birch, and, setting his +foot on it, broke it off at the root. She stopped, with an impatient +gesture, and waited while he tore off handfuls of leaves and whittled +away the side-shoots. + + +“Do hurry, Lewis!” she said. + +They had left their train at five o’clock in the morning, and had been +sitting in the frowsy station, sleepily awaiting the express, when +Athalia had had this fancy for climbing the hill so that she might see +the view. + +“It looks pretty steep,” her husband warned her. + +“It will be something to do, anyhow!” she said; and added, with a +restless sigh, “but you don’t understand that, I suppose.” + +“I guess I do--after a fashion,” he said, smiling at her. It was only in +love’s fashion, for really he was incapable of quite understanding her. +To the country lawyer of sober piety and granite sense of duty, the +rich variety of her moods was a continual wonder and sometimes a painful +bewilderment. But whether he understood the impetuous inconsequence +of her temperament “after a fashion,” or whether he failed entirely to +follow the complexity of her thought, he met all her fancies with a sort +of tender admiration. People said that Squire Hall was henpecked; they +also said that he had married beneath him. His father had been a +judge and his grandfather a minister; he himself was a graduate of a +fresh-water college, which later, when he published his exegesis on the +Prophet Daniel, had conferred its little degree upon him and felt that +he was a “distinguished son.” With such a lineage he might have done +better, people said, than to marry that girl, who was the most fickle +creature and no housekeeper, and whose people--this they told one +another in reserved voices--were PLAY-ACTORS! Athalia’s mother, who +had been the “play-actor,” had left her children an example of +duty--domestic as well as professional duty--faithfully done. As she did +not leave anything else, Athalia added nothing to the Hall fortune; but +Lewis’s law practice, which was hardly more than conveyancing now and +then, was helped out by a sawmill which the Halls had owned for two +generations. So, as things were, they were able to live in humdrum +prosperity which gave Lewis plenty of time to browse about among his +grandfather’s old theological books, and by-and-by to become a very +sound Hebrew scholar, and spared Athalia much wholesome occupation which +would have been steadying to her eager nature. She was one of those +people who express every passing emotion, as a flower expresses each +wind that sways it upon its stalk. But with expression the emotion +ended. + +“But she isn’t fickle,” Lewis had defended her once to a privileged +relation who had made the accusation, basing it on the fact that Athalia +had sewed her fingers off for the Missionary Society one winter and +done nothing the next--“Athalia ISN’T fickle,” Lewis explained; +“fickle people are insincere. Athalia is perfectly sincere, but she +is temporary; that’s all. Anyway, she wants to do something else this +winter, and ‘Thalia must have her head.” + +“Your head’s better than hers, young man,” the venturesome relative +insisted. + +“But it must be her head and not mine, Aunty, when it comes to doing +what she thinks is right, even if it’s wrong,” he said, smiling. + +“Well, tell her she’s a little fool!” cried the old lady, viciously. + +“You can’t do that with ‘Thalia,” Lewis explained, patiently, “because +it would make her unhappy. She takes everything so dreadfully hard; she +feels things more than other people do.” + +“Lewis,” said the little, old, wrinkled, privileged great-aunt, “think +a little less of her feelings and a little more of your own, or you’ll +make a mess of things.” + +Lewis Hall was too respectful to tell the old lady what he thought of +such selfish advice; he merely did not act upon it. Instead, he went on +giving a great deal of thought to Athalia’s “feelings.” That was why +he and she were climbing the hill in the dewy silence of this August +morning. Athalia had “felt” that she wanted to see the view--though +it would have been better for her to have rested in the station, +Lewis thought;--(“I ought to have coaxed her out of it,” he reproached +himself.) It certainly was a hard walk, considering that it followed +a broken night in the sleeping-car. They had left the train at five +o’clock in the morning, and were sitting in the station awaiting the +express when Athalia had had this impulse to climb the hill. “It looks +pretty steep,” Lewis objected; and she flung out her hands with an +impatient gesture. + +“I love to climb!” she said. So here they were, almost at the top, +panting and toiling, Athalia’s skirts wet with dew, and Lewis’s face +drawn with fatigue. + +“Look!” she said; “it’s all open! We can sit down and see all over the +world!” She left the road, springing lightly through the fringing bay +and briers toward an open space on the hillside. “There is a gate in the +wall!” she called out; “it seems to be some sort of enclosure. Lewis, +help me to open the gate! Hurry! What a queer place! What do you suppose +it is?” + +The gate opened into a little field bounded by a stone wall; the grass +had been lately mowed, and the stubble, glistening with dew, showed +the curving swaths of the scythe; across it, in even lines from wall to +wall, were rows of small stakes painted black. Here and there were faint +depressions, low, green cradles in the grass; each depression was +marked at the head and foot by these iron stakes, hardly higher than the +stubble itself. + +“Shakers’ graveyard, I guess,” Lewis said; “I’ve heard that they don’t +use gravestones. Peaceful place, isn’t it?” + +Her vivid face was instantly grave. “Very peaceful! Oh,” she added, as +they sat down in the shadow of a pine, “don’t you sometimes want to lie +down and sleep--deep down in the grass and flowers?” + +“Well,” he confessed, “I don’t believe it would be as interesting as +walking round on top of them.” + +She looked at him in despair. + +“Come, now,” he defended himself, “you don’t take much to peace yourself +at home.” + +“You don’t understand!” she said, passionately. + +“There, there, little Tay,” he said, smiling, and putting a soothing +hand on hers; “I guess I do--after a fashion.” + +It was very still; below them the valley had suddenly brimmed with +sunshine that flickered and twinkled on the birch leaves or shimmered +on sombre stretches of pine and spruce. Close at hand, pennyroyal grew +thick in the shadow of the wall; and just beyond, mullen candles cast +slender bars of shade across the grass. The sunken graves and the lines +of iron markers lay before them. + +“How quiet it is!” she said, in a whisper. + +“I guess I’ll smoke,” Lewis said, and scratched a match on his trousers. + +“How can you!” she protested; “it is profane!” + +He gave her an amused look, but lighted his cigar and smoked dreamily +for a minute; then he drew a long breath. “I was pretty tired,” he said, +and turned to glance back at the road. A horse and cart were coming +in at the open gate; the elderly driver, singing to himself, drew up +abruptly at the sight of the two under the pine-tree, then drove toward +them, the wheels of the cart jolting cheerfully over the cradling +graves. He had a sickle in his hand, and as he clambered down from the +seat, he said, with friendly curiosity: + +“You folks are out early, for the world’s people.” + +“Is this a graveyard?” Athalia demanded, impetuously. + +“Yee,” he said, smiling; “it’s our burial-place; we’re Shakers.” + +“But why are there just the stakes--without names?” + +“Why should there be names?” he said, whimsically; “they have new names +now.” + +“Where is your community? Can we go and visit it?” + +“Yee; but we’re not much to see,” he said; “just men and women, like +you. Only we’re happy. I guess that’s all the difference.” + +“But what a difference!” she exclaimed; and Lewis smiled. + +“I’ve come up for pennyroyal,” the Shaker explained, sociably; “it grows +thick round here.” + +“Tell me about the Shakers,” Athalia pleaded. “What do you believe?” + +“Well,” he said, a simple shrewdness glimmering in his brown eyes, +“if you go to the Trustees’ House, down there in the valley, Eldress +Hannah’ll tell you all about us. And the sisters have baskets and pretty +truck to sell--things the world’s people like. Go and ask the Eldress +what we believe, and she’ll show you the baskets.” + +She turned eagerly to her husband. “Never mind the ten-o’clock train, +Lewis. Let us go!” + +“We could take a later train, all right,” he admitted, “but--” + +“Oh, PLEASE!” she entreated, joyously. “We’ll help you pick pennyroyal,” + she added to the Shaker. + +But this he would not allow. “I doubt you’d be careful enough,” he said, +mildly; “Sister Lydia was the only female I ever knew who could pick +herbs.” + +“Do you get paid for the work you do?” Athalia asked, practically. Lewis +flushed at the boldness of such a question, but the old man chuckled. + +“Should I pay myself?” he asked. + +“You own everything in common, don’t you?” Lewis said. + +“Yee,” said the Shaker; “we’re all brothers and sisters. Nobody tries to +get ahead of anybody else.” + +“And you don’t believe in marriage?” Athalia asserted. + +“We are as the angels of God,” he said, simply. + +He left them and began to sickle his herbs, with the cheerfully obvious +purpose of escaping further interruption. + +Athalia instantly bubbled over with questions, but Lewis could tell her +hardly more of the Shakers than she knew already. + +“No, it isn’t free love,” he said; “they’re decent enough. They believe +in general love, not particular, I suppose.... ‘Thalia, do you think +it’s worth while to wait over a train just to see the settlement?” + +“Of course it is! He said they were happy; I would like to see what kind +of life makes people happy.” + +He looked at the lighted end of his cigar and smiled, but he said +nothing. Afterward, as they followed the cart across the field and out +into the road, Athalia asked the old herb-gatherer many questions about +the happiness of the community life, which he answered patiently enough. +Once or twice he tried to draw into their talk the silent husband +who walked at her side, but Lewis had nothing to say. Only when some +reference was made to one of the Prophecies did he look up in sudden +interest. “You take that to mean the Judgment, do you?” he said. And for +the rest of the walk to the settlement the two men discussed the point, +the Shaker walking with one hand on the heavy shaft, for the support it +gave him, and Lewis keeping step with him. + +At the foot of the hill the road widened into a grassy street, on both +sides of which, under the elms and maples, were the community houses, +big and substantial, but gauntly plain; their yellow paint, flaking and +peeling here and there, shone clean and fresh in the sparkle of morning. +Except for a black cat whose fur glistened like jet, dozing on a white +doorstep, the settlement, steeped in sunshine, showed no sign of life. +There was a strange remoteness from time about the place; a sort of +emptiness, and a silence that silenced even Athalia. + +“Where IS everybody?” she said, in a lowered voice; as she spoke, a +child in a blue apron came from an open doorway and tugged a basket +across the street. + +“Are there children here?” Lewis asked, surprised; and their guide said, +sadly: + +“Not as many as there ought to be. The new school laws have made a great +difference. We’ve only got two. Folks used to send ‘em to us to bring +up; oftentimes they stayed on after they were of age. Sister Lydia came +that way. Well, well, she tired of us, Lydy did, poor girl! She went +back into the world twenty years ago, now. And Sister Jane, she was a +bound-out child, too,” he rambled on; “she came here when she was six; +she’s seventy now.” + +“What!” Lewis exclaimed; “has she never known anything but--this?” + +His shocked tone did not disturb the old man. “Want to see my +herb-house?” he said. “Guess you’ll find some of the sisters in the +sorting-room. I’m Nathan Dale,” he added, courteously. + +They had come to the open door of a great, weather-beaten building, from +whose open windows an aromatic breath wandered out into the summer +air. As they crossed the worn threshold, Athalia stopped and caught her +breath in the overpowering scent of drying herbs; then they followed +Brother Nathan up a shaky flight of steps to the loft. Here some elderly +women, sitting on low benches, were sorting over great piles of herbs in +silence--the silence, apparently, of peace and meditation. Two of +them were dressed like world’s people, but the others wore small gray +shoulder-capes buttoned to their chins, and little caps of white net +stretched smoothly over wire frames; the narrow shirrings inside the +frames fitted so close to their peaceful, wrinkled foreheads that no +hair could be seen. + +“I wish I could sit and sort herbs!” Athalia said, under her breath. + +Brother Nathan chuckled. “For how long?” he asked; and then introduced +her to the three workers, who greeted her calmly and went on sorting +their herbs. The loft was dark and cool; the window-frames, in which +there were no sashes, opened wide on the still August fields and woods; +the occasional brief words of the sorting-women seemed to drop into a +pool of fragrant silence. The two visitors followed Brother Nathan down +the room between piles of sorted herbs, and out into the sunshine again. +Athalia drew a breath of ecstasy. + +“It’s all so beautifully tranquil!” she whispered, looking about her +with blue, excited eyes. + +“Tay and tranquillity!” Lewis said, with an amused laugh. + +But as they went along the grassy street this sense of tranquillity +closed about them like a palpable peace. Now and then they stopped and +spoke to some one--always an elderly person; and in each old face the +experiences that life writes in unerasable lines about eyes and lips +were hidden by a veil of calmness that was curiously unhuman. + +“It isn’t canny, exactly,” Lewis told his wife, in a low voice. But she +did not seem to hear him. She asked many questions of Eldress Hannah, +who had taken them in charge, and once or twice she burst into impetuous +appreciation of the idea of brotherhood, and even of certain theological +principles--which last diverted her husband very much. Eldress Hannah +showed them the dairy, and the work-room, and all there was to see, +with a patient hospitality that kept them at an infinite distance. She +answered Lewis’s questions about the community with a sad directness. + +“Yee; there are not many of us now. The world’s people say we’re dying +out. But the Lord will preserve the remnant to redeem the world, young +man. Yee; when they come in from the world they cast their possessions +into the whole; we own nothing, for ourselves. Nay; we don’t have many +come. Brother William was the last. Why did he come?” She looked coldly +at Athalia, who had asked the question. “Because he saw the way to +peace. He’d had strife enough in the world. Yee,” she admitted, briefly, +“some fall from grace, and leave us. The last was Lydia. She was one +of our children, and I thought she was of the chosen. But she was only +thirty when she fell away, and you can’t expect wisdom at that age. That +was nearly twenty years ago. When she has tasted the dregs of the world +she will come back to us--if she lives,” Eldress Hannah ended. + +Athalia listened breathlessly, her rapt, unhumorous eyes fixed on +Eldress Hannah’s still face. Now and then she asked a question, and +once cried out that, after all, why wasn’t it the way to live? Peace and +self-sacrifice and love! “Oh,” she said, turning to her husband, “can’t +you feel the attraction of it? I should think even you could feel it!” + +“I think I feel it--after a fashion,” he said, mildly; “I think I have +always felt the attraction of community life.” + +Afterward, when they had left all this somnolent peace and begun the +long walk back to the station, he explained what he meant: “I couldn’t +say so before the Eldress, but of course there are times when anybody +can feel the charm of getting rid of personal responsibility--and that +is what community life really means. It’s the relief of being a little +cog in a big machine; in fact, the very attraction of it is a sort +of temptation, to my way of looking at it. But it--well, it made me +sleepy,” he confessed. + +For once his wife had no reply. She was very quiet on that return +journey in the cars, and in the days that followed she kept referring to +their visit with a persistence that surprised her husband. She thought +the net caps were beautiful; she thought the exquisite cleanness of +everything was like a perfume--“the perfume of a wild rose!” she said, +ecstatically. She thought the having everything in common was the way to +live. “And just think how peaceful it is!” + +“Well, yes,” Lewis said; “I suppose it’s peaceful--after a fashion. +Anything that isn’t alive is peaceful.” + +“But their idea of brotherhood is the highest kind of life!” + +“The only fault I have to find with it is that it isn’t human,” he said, +mildly. He had no desire to prove or disprove anything; Athalia was +looking better, just because she was interested in something, and that +was enough for Lewis. When she proposed to read a book on Shakerism +aloud, he fell into her mood with what was, for him, enthusiasm; he +declared he would like nothing better, and he put his daily paper aside +without a visible regret. + +“Well,” he admitted, “I must say there’s more to it than I supposed. +They’ve studied the Prophecies; that’s evident. And they’re not narrow +in their belief. They’re really Unitarians.” + +“Narrow?” she said--“they are as wide as heaven itself! And, oh, the +peace of it!” + +“But they are NOT human,” he would insist, smiling; “no marriage--that’s +not human, little Tay.” + +It was not until two months later that he began to feel vaguely uneasy. +“Yes; it’s interesting,” he admitted; “but nobody in these days would +want to be a Shaker.” To which she replied, boldly, “Why not?” + +That was all, but it was enough. Lewis Hall’s face suddenly sobered. +He had not stumbled along behind her in all her emotional experiences +without learning to read the guide-posts to her thought. “I hope she’ll +get through with it soon,” he said to himself, with a worried frown; +“it isn’t wholesome for a mind like ‘Thalia’s to dwell on this kind of +thing.” + +It was in November that she broke to him that she had written Eldress +Hannah to ask if she might come and visit the community, and had been +answered “Yee.” + +Lewis was silent with consternation; he went out to the sawmill and +climbed up into the loft to think it all out alone. Should he forbid +it? He knew that was nonsense; in the first place, his conception of +the relation of husband and wife did not include that kind of thing; but +more than that, opposition would, he said to himself, “push her in.” + Not into Shakerism; “‘Thalia couldn’t be a Shaker to save her life,” he +thought, with an involuntary smile; but into an excited discontent with +her comfortable, prosaic life. No; definite opposition to the visit must +not be thought of--but he must try and persuade her not to go. How? What +plea could he offer? His own loneliness without her he could not +bring himself to speak of; he shrank from taking what seemed to him an +advantage. He might urge that she would find it cold and uncomfortable +in those old frame houses high up on the hills; or that it would be bad +for her health to take the rather wearing journey at this time of year. +But he knew too well how little effect any such prudent counsels would +have. The very fact that her interest had lasted for more than three +months showed that it had really struck roots into her mind, and mere +prudence would not avail much. Still, he would urge prudence; then, if +she was determined, she must go. “She’ll get sick of it in a fortnight,” + he said; but for the present he must let her have her head, even if +she was making a mistake. She had a right to have her head, he reminded +himself--“but I must tell those people to keep her warm, she takes cold +so easily.” + +He got up and looked out of the window; below, in the race, there was a +jam of logs, and the air was keen with the pungent smell of sawdust and +new boards. The whir and thud of the machinery down-stairs sent a faint +quiver through the planks under his feet. “The mill will net a good +profit this year,” he said to himself, absently. “‘Thalia can have +pretty nearly anything she wants.” And even as he said it he had a +sudden, vague misgiving: if she didn’t have everything she wanted, +perhaps she would be happier? But the idea was too new and too subtle to +follow up, so the result of that troubled hour in the mill-chamber was +only that he made no very resolute objection to Athalia’s acceptance +of Eldress Hannah’s permission to come. It had been given grudgingly +enough. + + +The family were gathered in the sitting-room; they had had their +supper--the eight elderly women and the three elderly men, all that were +left of the community. The room had the austere and shining cleanness +which Athalia had called a perfume, but it was full of homely comfort. +A blue-and-white rag carpet in the centre left a border of bare floor, +painted pumpkin-yellow; there was a glittering airtight stove with +isinglass windows that shone like square, red eyes; a gay patchwork +cushion in the seat of a rocking-chair was given up to the black cat, +whose sleek fur glistened in the lamplight. Three of the sisters knitted +silently; two others rocked back and forth, their tired, idle hands +in their laps, their eyes closed; the other three yawned, and spoke +occasionally between themselves of their various tasks. Brother Nathan +read his weekly FARMER; Brother William turned over the leaves of +a hymn-book and appeared to count them with noiseless, moving lips; +Brother George cut pictures out of the back of a magazine, yawning +sometimes, and looking often at his watch. Into this quietness Eldress +Hannah’s still voice came: + +“I have heard from Lydia again.” There was a faint stir, but no one +spoke. “The Lord is dealing with her,” Eldress Hannah said; “she is in +great misery.” + +Brother George nodded. “That is good; He works in a mysterious +way--she’s real miserable, is she? Well, well; that’s good. The mercies +of the Lord are everlasting,” he ended, in a satisfied voice, and began +to read again. + +“Amen!--amen!” said Brother William, vaguely. + +“Poor Lydy!” Brother Nathan murmured. + +“And I had another letter,” the Eldress proceeded, “from that young +woman who came here in August--Athalia Hall; do you remember?--she asked +two questions to the minute! She wants to visit us.” + +Brother Nathan looked at her over his spectacles, and one of the sisters +opened her eyes. + +“I don’t see why she should,” Eldress Hannah added. + +Two of the old brothers nodded agreement. + +“The curiosity of the world’s people does not help their souls,” said +one of the knitters. + +“She thinks we walk in the Way to Peace,” said the Eldress. + +“Yee; we do,” said Brother George. + +“Shall I tell her ‘nay’?” the Eldress questioned, calmly. + +“Yee,” said Brother George; and the dozing sisters murmured “Yee.” + +“Wait,” said Brother Nathan; “her husband--HE has something to him. Let +her come.” + +“But if she visited us, how would that affect him?” Eldress Hannah +asked, surprised into faint animation. + +“If she was moved to stay it would affect him,” Brother Nathan said, +dryly; “he would come, too, and there are very few of us left, Eldress. +He would be a great gain.” + +There was a long silence. Brother William’s gray head sagged on his +shoulder, and the hymn-book slipped from his gnarled old hands. The +knitting sisters began, one after another, to stab their needles into +their balls of gray yarn and roll their work up in their aprons. + +“It’s getting late, Eldress,” one of them said, and glanced at the +clock. + +“Then I’ll tell her she may come?” said Eldress Hannah, reluctantly. + +“He can make the wrath of man to praise Him,” Brother Nathan encouraged +her. + +“Yee; but I never heard that He could make the foolishness of woman do +it,” the old woman said, grimly. + +As the brothers and sisters parted at the door of the sitting-room +Brother Nathan plucked at the Eldress’s sleeve; “Is she very +wretched--Lydia? Where is she now, Eldress? Poor Lydy! poor little +Lydy!” + + +The fortnight of Athalia’s absence wore greatly upon her husband. +Apprehension lurked in the back of his mind. In the mill, or out on the +farm, or when he sat down among his shabby, old, calf-skin books, he was +assailed by the memory of all her various fancies during their married +life. Some of them were no more remarkable or unexpected than this +interest in Shakerism. He began to be slowly frightened. Suppose she +should take it into her head--? + +When her fortnight was nearly up and he was already deciding whether, +when he drove over to Depot Corners to meet her, he would take Ginny’s +colt or the new mare, a letter came to say she was going to stay a week +longer. + +“I believe,” she wrote--her very pen, in the frantic down-hill slope of +her lines, betraying the excitement of her thoughts--“I believe that for +the first time in my life I have found my God!” The letter was full +of dashes and underlining, and on the last page there was a blistered +splash into which the ink had run a little on the edges. + +Lewis Hall’s heart contracted with an almost physical pang. “I must go +and get her right off,” he said; “this thing is serious!” And yet, after +a wakeful night, he decided, with the extraordinary respect for her +individuality so characteristic of the man--a respect that may be called +foolish or divine, as you happen to look at it--he decided not to go. +If he dragged her away from the Shakers against her will, what would be +gained? “I must give her her head, and let her see for herself that it’s +all moonshine,” he told himself, painfully, over and over; “my seeing +it won’t accomplish anything.” But he counted the hours until she would +come home. + +When she came, as soon as he saw her walking along the platform looking +for him while he stood with his hand on Ginny’s colt’s bridle, even +before she had spoken a single word, even then he knew what had +happened--the uplifted radiance of her face announced it. + +But she did not tell him at once. On the drive home, in the dark +December afternoon, he was tense with apprehension; once or twice he +ventured some questions about the Shakers, but she put them aside with a +curious gentleness, her voice a little distant and monotonous; her words +seemed to come only from the surface of her mind. When he lifted her out +of the sleigh at their own door he felt a subtle resistance in her whole +body; and when, in the hall, he put his arms about her and tried to kiss +her, she drew back sharply and said: + +“No!--PLEASE!” Then, as they stood there in the chilly entry, she burst +into a passionate explanation: she had been convicted and converted! She +had found her Saviour! She-- + +“There, there, little Tay,” he broke in, sadly; “supper is ready, dear.” + He heard a smothered exclamation--that it was smothered showed how +completely she was immersed in a new experience, one of the details of +which was the practice of self-control. + +But, of course, that night they had it out.... When they came into the +sitting-room after supper she flung the news into his pale face: _she +wished to join the Shakers_. But she must have his consent, she added, +impatiently, because otherwise the Shakers would not let her come. + +“That’s the only thing I don’t agree with them about,” she said, +candidly; “I don’t think they ought to make anything so solemn +contingent upon the ‘consent’ of any other human being. But, of course, +Lewis, it’s only a form. I have left you in spirit, and that is what +counts. So I told them I knew you would consent.” + +She looked at him with those blue, ecstatic eyes, so oblivious to +his pain that for a moment a sort of impersonal amazement at such +self-centredness held him silent. But after the first shock he spoke +with a slow fluency that pierced Athalia’s egotism and stirred an +answering astonishment in her. His weeks of vague misgiving, deepening +into keen apprehension, had given him protests and arguments which, +although they never convinced her, silenced her temporarily. She had +never known her husband in this character. Of course, she had been +prepared for objections and entreaties, but sound arguments and stern +disapproval confused and annoyed her. She had supposed he would tell her +she would break his heart; instead, he said, calmly, that she hadn’t the +head for Shakerism. + +“You’ve got to be very reasonable, ‘Thalia, to stand a community life, +or else you’ve got to be an awful fool. You are neither one nor the +other.” + +“I believe their doctrines,” she declared, “and I would die for a +religious belief. But I don’t suppose you ever felt that you could die +for a thing!” + +“I think I have--after a fashion,” he said, mildly; “but dying for a +thing is easy; it’s living for it that’s hard. You couldn’t keep it up, +Athalia; you couldn’t live for it.” + +Well, of course, that night was only the beginning. The days and weeks +that followed were full of argument, of entreaty, of determination. +Perhaps if he had laughed at her.... But it is dangerous to laugh +at unhumorous people, for if they get angry all is lost. So he never +laughed, nor in all their talks did he ever reproach her for not +loving him. Once only his plea was personal--and even then it was only +indirectly so. + +“Athalia,” he said, “there’s only one kind of pain in this world that +never gets cured. It’s the pain that comes when you remember that you’ve +made somebody who loved you unhappy--not for a principle, but for your +own pleasure. I know that pain, and I know how it lasts. Once I did +something, just to please myself, that hurt mother’s feelings. I’d give +my right hand if I hadn’t done it. It’s twenty-two years ago, and I +wasn’t more than a boy, and she forgave me and forgot all about it. I +have never forgotten it. I wish to God I could! ‘Thalia, I don’t want +you to suffer that kind of pain.” + +She saw the implication rather than the warning, and she burst out, +angrily, that she wasn’t doing this for “pleasure”; she was doing it for +principle! It was for the salvation of her soul! + +“Athalia,” he said, solemnly, “the salvation of our souls depends on +doing our duty.” + +“Ah!” she broke in, triumphantly, “out of your own lips:--isn’t it my +duty to do what seems to me right?” + +He considered a minute. “Well, yes; I suppose the most valuable example +any one can set is to do what he or she believes to be right. It may be +wrong, but that is not the point. We must do what we conceive to be +our duty. Only, we’ve got to be sure, Tay, in deciding upon duty, in +deciding what is right,--we’ve got to be sure that self-interest is +eliminated. I don’t believe anybody can decide absolutely on what is +right without eliminating self.” + +She frowned at this impatiently; its perfect fairness meant nothing to +her. + +“You promised to be my wife,” he went on with a curious sternness; +“it is obviously ‘right,’ and so it is your first duty to keep your +promise--at least, so long as my conduct does not absolve you from +it.” Then he added, hastily, with careful justice: “Of course, I’m not +talking about promises to love; they are nonsense. Nobody can promise to +love. Promises to do our duty are all that count.” + +That was the only reproach he made--if it was a reproach--for his +betrayed love. It was just as well. Discussion on this subject between +husbands and wives is always futile. Nothing was ever accomplished by +it; and yet, in spite of the verdict of time and experience that nothing +is gained, over and over the jealous man, and still more frequently the +jealous woman, protests against a lost love with a bitterness that +kills pity and turns remorse into antagonism. But Lewis Hall made no +reproaches. Perhaps Athalia missed them; perhaps, under her spiritual +passion, she was piqued that earthly passion was so readily silenced. +But, if she was, she did not know it. She was entirely sincere +and intensely happy in a new experience. It was a long winter of +argument;--and then suddenly, in early April, the break came.... + +“I WILL go; I have a right to save my soul!” + +And he said, very simply, “Well, Athalia, then I’ll go, too.” + +“You? But you don’t believe--” And almost in the Bible words he answered +her, “No; but where you go, I will go; where you live, I will live.” And +then, a moment later, “I promised to cleave to you, little Tay.” + + + + +II + +THE uprooting of their life took a surprisingly short time. In all those +dark months of argument Lewis Hall had been quietly making plans for +this final step, and such preparation betrayed his knowledge from the +first of the hopelessness of his struggle--indeed, the struggle had only +been loyalty to a lost cause. His calm assent to his wife’s ultimatum +left her a little blank; but in the immediate excitement of removal, in +the thrill of martyrdom that came with publicity, the blankness did not +last. What the publicity was to her husband she could not understand. +He received the protests of his family in stolid silence; when the +venturesome great-aunt told him what she thought of him, he smiled; +when his brother informed him that he was a fool, he said he shouldn’t +wonder. When the minister, egged on by distracted Hall relatives, +remonstrated, he replied, respectfully, that he was doing what he +believed to be his duty, “and if it seems to be a duty, I can’t help +myself; you see that, don’t you?” he said, anxiously. But that was +practically all he found to say; for the most part he was silent. +Athalia, in her absorption, probably had not the slightest idea of the +agonies of mortification which he suffered; her imagination told her, +truly enough, what angry relatives and pleasantly horrified neighbors +said about her, and the abuse exhilarated her very much; but her +imagination stopped there. It did not give her the family’s opinion of +her husband; it did not whisper the gossip of the grocery-store and the +post-office; it did not repeat the chuckles or echo the innuendoes: + +“So Squire Hall’s wife’s got tired of him? Rather live with the Shakers +than him!” “I like Hall, but I haven’t any sympathy with him,” the +doctor said; “what in thunder did he let her go gallivanting off to +visit the Shakers for? Might have known a female like Mrs. Hall’d get a +bee in her bonnet. He ought to have kept her at home. _I_ would have. I +wouldn’t have had any such nonsense in my family! Well, for an obstinate +man (and he IS obstinate, you know), the squire, when it comes to his +wife, has no more backbone than a wet string.” + +“Wonder if there’s anything under it all?” came the sly insinuation of +gossip; “wonder if she hasn’t got something besides the Shakers up her +sleeve? You wait!” + +If Athalia’s imagination spared her these comments, Lewis’s +unimaginative common sense supplied them. He knew what other men and +husbands were saying about him; what servants and gossip and friends +insinuated to one another, and set his jaw in silence. He made no excuse +and no explanation. Why should he? The facts spoke. His wife did prefer +the Shakers to her husband and her home. To have interfered with her +purpose by any plea of his personal unhappiness, or by any threat of an +appeal to law, or even by refusing to give the “consent” essential to +her admission, would not have altered these facts. As for his reasons +for going with her, they would not have enhanced his dignity in the eyes +of the men who wouldn’t have had any such nonsense in their families: he +must be near her to see that she did not suffer too much hardship, and +to bring her home when she was ready to come. + +In those days of tearing his life up by the roots the silent man was +just a little more silent, that was all. But the fact was burning into +his consciousness: he couldn’t keep his wife! That was what they said, +and that was the truth. It seemed to him as if his soul blushed at +his helplessness. But his face was perfectly stolid. He told Athalia, +passively, that he had rented the house and mill to Henry Davis; that he +had settled half his capital upon her, so that she would have some money +to put into the common treasury of the community; then he added that +he had taken a house for himself near the settlement, and that he would +hire out to the Shakers when they were haying, or do any farm-work that +he could get. + +“I can take care of myself, I guess,” he said; “I used to camp out when +I was a boy, and I can cook pretty well, mother always said.” He looked +at her wistfully; but the uncomfortable-ness of such an arrangement +did not strike her. In her desire for a new emotion, her eagerness to +FEEL--that eagerness which is really a sensuality of the mind--she was +too absorbed in her own self-chosen hardships to think of his; which +were not entirely self-chosen. + + +“I think I can find enough to do,” he said; “the Shakers need an +able-bodied man; they only have those three old men.” + +“How do you know that?” she asked, quickly. + +“I’ve been to see them twice this winter,” he said. + +“Why!” she said, amazed, “you never told me!” + +“I don’t tell you everything nowadays, ‘Thalia,” he said, briefly. + +In those two visits to the Shakers, Lewis Hall had been treated with +great delicacy; there had been no effort to proselytize, and equally +there had been no triumphing over the accession of his wife; in fact, +Athalia was hardly referred to, except when they told him that they +would take good care of her, and when Brother Nathan volunteered a brief +summary of Shaker doctrines--“so as you can feel easy about her,” he +explained: “We believe that Christ was the male principle in Deity, and +Mother Ann was the female principle. And we believe in confession of +our sins, and communion with the dead--spiritualism, they call it +nowadays--and in the virgin life. Shakers don’t marry, nor give in +marriage. And we have all things in common. That’s all, friend. You see, +we don’t teach anything that Christ didn’t teach, so she won’t learn any +evil from us. Simple, ain’t it?” + +“Well, yes, after a fashion,” Lewis Hall said; “but it isn’t human.” + +And Brother Nathan smiled mystically. “Maybe that isn’t against it, in +the long run,” he said. + + +They came to the community in the spring twilight. The brothers and +sisters had assembled to meet the convert, and to give a neighborly hand +to the silent man who was to live by himself in a little, gray, shingled +house down on Lonely Lake Road. It was a supreme moment to Athalia. She +had expected an intense parting from her husband when they left their +own house; and she was ready to press into her soul the poignant thorn +of grief, not only because it would make her FEEL, but because it would +emphasize in her own mind the divine self-sacrifice which she wanted to +believe she was making. But when the moment came to close the door of +the old home behind them, her husband was cruelly commonplace about +it--for poor Lewis had no more drama in him than a kindly Newfoundland +dog! He was full of practical cares for his tenant, and he stopped even +while he was turning the key in the lock, to “fuss,” as Athalia said, +over some last details of the transfer of the sawmill. Athalia could +not tear herself from arms that placidly consented to her withdrawal; so +there had been no rending ecstasies. In consequence, on the journey up +to the community she was a little morose, a little irritable even, just +as the drunkard is apt to be irritable when sobriety is unescapable.... +But at the door of the Family House she had her opportunity: she said, +dramatically, “Good-night--_Brother Lewis_.” It was an entirely sincere +moment. Dramatic natures are not often insincere, they are only unreal. + +As for her husband, he said, calmly, “Good-night, dear,” and trudged +off in the cool May dusk down Lonely Lake Road. He found the door of +the house on the latch, and a little fire glowing in the stove; Brother +Nathan had seen to that, and had left some food on the table for him. +But in spite of the old man’s friendly foresight the house had all the +desolation of confusion; in the kitchen there were two or three cases of +books, broken open but not unpacked, a trunk and a carpet-bag, and some +bundles of groceries; they had been left by the expressman on tables and +chairs and on the floor, so that the solitary man had to do some lifting +and unpacking before he could sit down in his loneliness to eat the +supper Brother Nathan had provided. He looked about to see where he +would put up shelves for his books, and as he did so the remembrance of +his quiet, shabby old study came to him, almost like a blow. + +“Well,” he said to himself, “this won’t be for so very long. We’ll be +back again in a year, I guess. Poor little Tay! I shouldn’t wonder if it +was six months. I wonder, can I buy Henry Davis off, if she wants to go +back in six months?” + +And yet, in spite of his calm understanding of the situation, the wound +burned. As he went about putting things into some semblance of order, +he paused once and looked hard into the fire.... When she did want to go +back--let it be in six months or six weeks or six days--would things be +the same? Something had been done to the very structure and fabric of +their life. “Can it ever be the same?” he said to himself; and then +he passed his hand over his eyes, in a bewildered way--“Will I be the +same?” he said. + + + + +III + +SUMMER at the Shaker settlement, lying in the green cup of the hills, +was very beautiful. The yellow houses along the grassy street drowsed in +the sunshine, and when the wind stirred the maple leaves one could +see the distant sparkle of the lake. Athalia had a fancy, in the warm +twilights, for walking down Lonely Lake Road, that jolted over logs and +across gullies and stopped abruptly at the water’s edge. She had to pass +Lewis’s house on the way, and if he saw her he would call out to her, +cheerfully, + +“Hullo, ‘Thalia! how are you, dear?” + +And she, with prim intensity, would reply, “Good-evening, BROTHER +Lewis.” + +If one of the sisters was with her, they would stop and speak to him; +otherwise she passed him by in such an eager consciousness of her part +that he smiled--and then sighed. When she had a companion, Lewis and the +other Shakeress would gossip about the weather or the haying, and Lewis +would have the chance to say: “You’re not overworking, ‘Thalia? You’re +not tired?” While Athalia, in her net cap and her gray shoulder cape +buttoned close up to her chin, would dismiss the anxious affection +with a peremptory “Of course not! I have bread to eat you know not of, +Brother Lewis.” Then she would add, didactically, some word of dogma or +admonition. + +But she had not much time to give to Brother Lewis’s salvation--she was +so busy in adjusting herself to her new life. Its picturesque details +fascinated her--the cap, the brevity of speech, the small mannerisms, +the occasional and very reserved mysticism, absorbed her so that she +thought very little of her husband. She saw him occasionally on those +walks down to the lake, or when, after a day in the fields with the +three old Shaker men, Brother Nathan brought him home to supper. + +“We Shakers are given to hospitality,” he said; “we’re always looking +for the angel we are going to entertain unawares. Come along home with +us, Lewis.” And Lewis would plod up the hill and take his turn at the +tin washbasin, and then file down the men’s side of the stairs to the +dining-room, where he and the three old brothers sat at one table, and +Athalia and the eight sisters sat at the other table. After supper he +had the chance to see Athalia and to make sure that she was not looking +tired. “You didn’t take cold yesterday, ‘Thalia? I saw you were out in +the rain,” he would say. And she, always a little embarrassed at such +personal interest, would reply, primly, “I am not at all tired, Brother +Lewis.” Nathan used to walk home with his guest, and sometimes they +talked of work that must be done, and sometimes touched on more +unpractical things--those spiritual manifestations which at rare +intervals centred in Brother William and were the hope of the whole +community. For who could tell when the old man’s incoherent muttering +would break into the clear speech of one of those Heavenly Visitants +who, in the early days, had descended upon the Shakers, and then, for +some divine and deeply mysterious reason, withdrawn from such pure +channels of communication, and manifested themselves in the world,--but +through base and sordid natures. Poor, vague Brother William, who saw +visions and dreamed dreams, was, in this community, the torch that held +a smouldering spark of the divine fire, and when, in a cataleptic +state, his faint intelligence fluttered back into some dim depths of +personality, and he moaned and muttered, using awful names with babbling +freedom, Brother Nathan and the rest listened with pathetic eagerness +for a _“thus saith the Lord,”_ which should enflame the gray embers of +Shakerism and give light to the whole world! When Nathan talked of these +things he would add, with a sigh, that he hoped some day William would +be inspired to tell them something more of Sister Lydia: “Once William +said, ‘Coming, coming.’ _I_ think it meant Lydia; but Eldress thought +it was Athalia; it was just before she came.” Brother Nathan sighed. “I +wish it had meant Lydy,” he said, simply. + +If Lewis wished it had meant Lydy, he did not say so. And, indeed, +he said very little upon any subject; Brother Nathan did most of the +talking. + +“I fled from the City of Destruction when I was thirty,” he told Lewis; +“that was just a year before Sister Lydy left us. Poor Lydy! poor Lydy!” + he said. “Oh, yee, _I_ know the world. I know it, my boy! Do you?” + +“Why, after a fashion,” Lewis said; and then he asked, suddenly, “Why +did you turn Shaker, Nathan?” + +“Well, I got hold of a Shaker book that set me thinking. Sister Lydia +gave it to me. I met Sister Lydia when she had come down to the place I +lived to sell baskets. And she was interested in my salvation, and +gave me the book. Then I got to figuring out the Prophecies, and I saw +Shakerism fulfilled them; and then I began to see that when you don’t +own anything yourself you can’t worry about your property; well, that +clinched me, I guess. Poor Sister Lydia, she didn’t abide in grace +herself,” he ended, sadly. + +“I should have thought you would have been sorry then, that you--” Lewis +began, but checked himself. “How about”--he said, and stopped to clear +his voice, which broke huskily;--“how about love between man and woman? +Husband and wife?” + +“Marriage is honorable,” Brother Nathan conceded; “Shakers don’t despise +marriage. But they like to see folks grow out of it into something +better, like--like your wife, maybe.” + +“Well, your doctrine would put an end to the world,” Lewis said, +smiling. + +“I guess,” said Brother Nathan, dryly, “there ain’t any immediate danger +of the world coming to an end.” + +“I’d like to see that book,” Lewis said, when they parted at the +pasture-bars where a foot-path led down the hill to his own house. + +And that night Brother Nathan had an eager word for the family. “He’s +asked for a book!” he said. The Eldress smiled doubtfully, but Athalia, +with a rapturous upward look, said, + +“May the Lord guide him!” then added, practically, “It won’t amount to +anything. He thinks Shakerism isn’t human.” + +“That’s not against it, that’s not against it!” Nathan declared, +smiling; “I’ve told him so a dozen times!” + +But Athalia was so happy that first year, and so important, that she did +not often concern herself with the welfare of the man who had been her +husband. Instead--it was early in April--he concerned himself with hers; +he tried, tentatively, to see if it wasn’t almost time for Athalia “to +get through with it.” Of course, afterward, Sister Athalia realized, +with chagrin, that this attempt was only a forerunner of the fever that +was developing, which in a few days was to make him a very sick man. +But for the moment his question seemed to her a temptation of the devil, +and, of course, resisted temptation made her faith stronger than ever. + +It was a deliciously cold spring night; Lewis had drawn the table, with +his books on it, close to the fire to try to keep warm, but he shivered, +even while his shoulders scorched, and somehow he could not keep his +mind on the black, rectangular characters of the Hebrew page before +him. He had been interested in Brother Nathan’s explanation of Hosea’s +forecasting of Shakerism, and he had admitted to himself that, if Nathan +was correct, there would be something to be said for Shakerism. The +idea made him vaguely uneasy, because, that “something” might be so +conclusive, that--But he could not face such a possibility. + +He wanted to dig at the text, so that he might refute Nathan; but +somehow that night he was too dull to refute anybody, and by-and-by he +pushed the black-lettered page aside, and, crouching over the fire, held +out his hands to the blaze. He thought, vaguely, of the big fireplace in +the old study, and suddenly, in the chilly numbness of his mind, he saw +it--with such distinctness that he was startled. Then, a moment later, +it changed into the south chamber that had been his mother’s bedroom--he +could even detect the faint scent of rose-geranium that always hung +about her; he noticed that the green shutters on the west windows were +bowed, and from between them a line of sunshine fell across the matting +on the floor and touched the four-poster that had a chintz spread and +valance. How well he knew the faded roses and the cockatoos on that old +chintz! Over there by the window he had caught her crying that time he +had hurt her feelings, “just for his own pleasure”; the old stab of this +thought pierced through the feverish mists and touched the quick. He +struggled numbly with the visualization of fever, brushing his hot hand +across his eyes and trying to see which was real--the geranium-sweet +south chamber or the chilly house on Lonely Lake Road. Athalia had given +him pain in that same way--just for her own pleasure. Poor little Tay! +He was afraid it would hurt her, some day, when she realized it; well, +when she came to herself, when she got through her playing at Shakerism, +he must not let her know how great the pain had been; she would suffer +too much if she should understand his misery: and Athalia didn’t bear +suffering well.... But how long she had been getting over Shakerism! He +had thought it would only last six months, and here it was a year! Well, +if Nathan’s reading of the Prophecies was right, then Athalia would +never get over it. She ought never to get over it. Then what would +become of the farm and the sawmill? And instantly everything was unreal +again; he could hear the hum of the driving-wheel and the screech of the +saw tearing through a log; how fragrant the fresh planks were, and the +great heaps of sawdust--but the noise made his head ache; and--and the +fire didn’t seem hot.... + +It was in one of those moments when the mists thinned, and he knew that +he was shivering over the stove instead of basking in the sunshine in +his mother’s room that smelled of rose-geranium leaves, that Athalia +came in. She looked conscious and confused, full of a delightful +embarrassment at being for once alone with him. The color was deep on +her cheeks, and her eyes were starry. + +“Eldress asked me to bring your mail down to you, Brother Lewis,” she +said. + +“Thalia!” he said; “I am so glad to see you, dear; I--I seem to be +rather used up, somehow.” The mists had quite cleared away, but +a violent headache made his words stumble. “I was just wondering, +Thalia--don’t you think you might go home now? You’ve had a whole year +of it--and I really ought to go home--the mill--” + +“Why, Lewis Hall! What do you mean!” she said, forgetting her part in +her indignation. “I am a Shakeress. You’ve no right to speak so to me.” + +He blinked at her through the blur of pain. “I wish you’d stay with +me, Athalia, I’ve got a--a sort of--headache. Never mind about being a +Shakeress just for to-night. It would be such a comfort to have you.” + +But Athalia, with a horrified look, had left him. She fled home in +the darkness with burning cheeks; she debated with herself whether she +should tell Eldress how her husband--no, Brother Lewis--had tried to +“tempt” her back to him. In her excitement at this lure of the devil she +even wondered whether Lewis had pretended that he was ill, to induce her +to stay with him? But even Athalia’s imagination could not compass such +a thought of Lewis for more than a moment, so she only told the Eldress +that Brother Lewis had “tried to persuade her to go back to the world +with him.” The Lord had defended her, she said, excitedly, and she had +forbidden him to speak to her! + +Eldress Hannah looked perplexed. “That’s not like Lewis. I wonder--” + But she did not say what she wondered. Instead, she went early in the +morning down Lonely Lake Road to Lewis’s house. The poor fellow was +entirely in the mists by that time, shivering and burning and quite +unconscious, saying over and over, “She wouldn’t stay; she wouldn’t +stay.” + +“‘Lure her back,’” said Eldress Hannah, with a snort. “Poor boy! It’s +good riddance for him.” + +But Eldress Hannah stayed, and Brother Nathan joined her, and for many +days the little community was shaken with real anxiety, for they had all +come to love the solitary, waiting husband. Athalia, abashed, but still +cherishing the dear insult of having been tempted, took what little part +Eldress allowed her in the care of the sick man; but in the six or seven +weeks of his illness Brother Nathan and the Eldress were his devoted +nurses, and by-and-by a genuine friendship grew up between them. Old +Eldress Hannah’s shrewd good-humor was as wholesome as a sound winter +apple, and Nathan had a gayety Lewis had never suspected. The old man +grew very confidential in those days of Lewis’s convalescence; he showed +his simple heart with a generosity that made the sick man’s lip tighten +once or twice and his eyes blur;--Lewis came to know all about Sister +Lydia; indeed, he knew more than the old man knew himself. When the +invalid grew stronger, Nathan wrestled with him over the Prophecies, and +Lewis studied them and the other foundation-stones of the Shaker faith +with a constantly increasing anxiety. “Because,” he said, with a nervous +blink, “if you ARE right--” But he left the sentence unfinished. Once +he said, with a feeble passion--for he was still very weak--“I tell +you, Nathan, it isn’t human!” and then added, under his breath, “but God +knows whether that’s not in its fa-vor.” + + +When he was quite well again he was plainly preoccupied. He pored +over the Prophecies with a concentration that made him blind even to +Athalia’s tired looks. Once, when some one said in his presence, “Sister +‘Thalia is working too hard,” he blinked at her in an absent way before +the old, anxious attention awoke in his eyes. + +Athalia tossed her head and said, “Brother Lewis has his own affairs to +think of, I guess!” + +And he said, eagerly: “Yes, ‘Thalia; I have been thinking--Some day I’ll +tell you. But not yet.” + +“Oh, I haven’t time to pry into other people’s thoughts,” she said, +acidly. And, indeed, just then her time was very full. She was +enormously useful to the community that second winter; her young power +and strength shone out against the growing weariness of the old sisters. +“Athalia’s capable,” Eldress Hannah said, and the other sisters said +“Yee,” and smiled at one another. + +“She IS useful,” Sister Jane declared; “do you know, she got through the +churning before nine? I’d ‘a’ been at it until eleven!” + +“Athalia is like one of those candles that have a streak of soft wax in +‘em,” Eldress Hannah murmured; “but she’s useful, as you say, Jane.” + +In January, when the Eldress fell ill, Athalia was especially useful. +She nursed her with a passion of faithfulness that made the other +sisters remonstrate. + +“You’ll wear yourself out, Athalia; you haven’t had your clothes off for +three days and nights!” + +“The Lord has upheld me, and His right hand has sustained me,” Athalia +quoted, with an uplifted look. + +“Yee,” old Jane assented, “but He likes sense, Athalia, and there +ain’t any reason why two of us shouldn’t take turns settin’ up with her +tonight.” + +“This is my service,” Athalia said, smiling joyously. + +Eldress Hannah, lying with closed eyes, said, suddenly: “Athalia, don’t +be foolish and conceited. You go right along to your bed; Jane and +Mary’ll look after me.” + +It took Athalia a perceptible minute to get herself in hand sufficiently +to say, meekly, “Yee, Eldress.” When she had shut the door behind her +with perhaps something more than Shaker emphasis, the Eldress opened her +eyes and smiled at old Jane. “She’s smart,” she said. + +“Yee,” said Sister Jane; and there was a little chuckle. + +The sick woman closed her eyes again and sighed. “What a nurse Lydia +was!” she said; and added, suddenly: “How is Nathan getting along with +Lewis? There isn’t much more time, I guess,” she ended, mildly; “she +won’t last it out another summer.” + +“She’s done better than I expected to stay till now,” Jane said; and the +Eldress nodded. + +But it was, perhaps, a natural result of Athalia’s abounding energy that +toward the end of that second winter in the Shaker village she should +grow irritable. The spring work was very heavy that year. Brother +William was too feeble to do even the light, pottering tasks that had +been allotted to him, and his vague babblings about the spirits ceased +altogether. In April old Jane died, and that put extra burdens on +Athalia’s capable shoulders. “But I notice I don’t get anything extra +for my work, not even thanks!” she told Lewis, sharply, and forgot to +call him “Brother.” She had walked down Lonely Lake Road and stopped at +his gate. She looked thinner; her forget-me-not eyes were clouded, +and there was an impatient line about her lips, instead of the faint, +ecstatic smile which was part of her early experience. + +“Yes, there’s lots of work to be done,” he agreed, “but when people do +it together--” + +“What do you think?”--she interrupted him, her lip drooping a little in +a half-contemptuous smile--“they’ve heard again from that Sister Lydia +who ran away! You know who I mean?--Brother Nathan is always talking +about her. They think she’ll come back. _I_ should say good riddance! +Though of course if it’s genuine repentance I’ll be glad. Only I don’t +think it is.” + +“How pleased Nathan will be!” Lewis said. + +“Oh, he’s pleased; he’s rather too pleased for a Shaker, it strikes me.” + +Lewis frowned. “There is joy in the presence of the angels,” he reminded +her, gravely. + +“Angels!” she said, with a laugh; “I don’t believe so much in the angels +as I did before I knew so much about them. I understand that when +this ‘angel’ comes back I am to give up my room to her, if you please, +because it used to be hers. Oh, I’m of no importance now--Lewis,” she +broke off, suddenly, “who has our house this year?” + +“Davis; he wants to re-lease it in May.” + +“He just takes it by the year, doesn’t he?” she asked. + +He nodded. “Wants a five-years’ lease next time.” + +“Well, don’t give it to him!” she said; and added, frowning: “You ought +to go back yourself, you know. It’s foolish for you to be here. Why, +it’s almost two years!” + +“Time flies,” he said, smiling. + +She laughed and sighed. “Yes--I mean yee--indeed, it does! I was just +thinking, Lewis, we’ve been married ten years!” + +“No, eight years. We were married just eight years,” he said, soberly. + +The color flew into her face. “Oh, yee; we were married eight years when +I came in.” + +He looked at her with great tenderness. “Athalia, I have to confess +to you that when you came I didn’t think it would last with you. I +distrusted the Holy Spirit. And I came, myself, against my will, as you +know. But now I begin to think you were led--and perhaps you have led +me.” + +Athalia gave a little gasp--“WHAT!” + +“I am not sure yet,” he said. + +“You said Shakerism was unhuman!” Athalia protested, with a thrill of +panic in her voice. + +“Ah!” he cried, his voice suddenly kindling, “you know what Nathan is +always saying?--‘That’s not against it’? Athalia, its unhumanness, as +you call it, is why I think it may be of God. The human in us must give +way to the divine. ‘First that which is natural; then that which is +spiritual.’” + +“I--don’t understand,” she said, faintly; “you are not a Shaker?” + +“No,” he said, “not yet. But perhaps some day--I am trying to follow +you, Athalia.” + +She caught her breath with a frightened look. “Follow--ME?” Then she +burst out crying. + +“Why, Tay!” he said, bewildered; “what is it, dear?” But she had left +him, stumbling blindly as she walked, her face hidden in her hands. + +Lewis went back into his house, and, lighting his lamp, sat down to pore +over one of Brother Nathan’s books. He was concerned, but he smiled a +little; it was so like Athalia to cry when she was happy! He did not see +his wife for several days. The Eldress said Sister ‘Thalia was not well, +and Lewis looked sorry, but made no comment. He was a little anxious, +but he did not dwell upon his anxiety. In the next few days he worked +hard all day in Brother Nathan’s herb-house, where the air was hazy with +the aromatic dust of tansy and pennyroyal, then hurried home at night to +sit down to his books, so profoundly absorbed in them that sometimes he +only knew that it was time to sleep because the dawn fell white across +the black-lettered page. + +But one night, a week later, when he came home from work, he did not +open his Bible; he stood a long time in his doorway, looking at the +sunset, and, as he looked, his face seemed to shine with some inner +light. The lake was like glass; high in the upper heavens thin golden +lines of cloud had turned to rippling copper; the sky behind the black +circle of the hills was a clear, pale green, and in the growing dusk the +water whitened like snow. “‘Glass mingled with fire,’” he murmured to +himself; “yes, ‘great and marvellous are Thy works, Lord God Almighty; +just and true are Thy ways, Thou King of Saints!’” And what more +marvellous work than this wonder of his own salvation? Brought here +against his will, against his judgment! How he had struggled against the +Spirit. He was humbled to the earth at the remembrance of it; “if I +had my way, we wouldn’t have walked up the hill from the station that +morning!”... + +The flushing heavens faded into ashes, but the solemn glow of +half-astonished gratitude lingered on his face. + +“Lewis,” some one said in the darkness of the lane--“LEWIS!” Athalia +came up the path swiftly and put her hands on his arm. “Lewis, I--I want +to go home.” She sobbed as she spoke. + +He started as if she had struck him. + +“Lewis, Lewis, let us go home!” + +The flame of mystical satisfaction went out of his face as a lighted +candle goes out in the wind. + +“There isn’t any home now, Athalia,” he said, with a sombre look; +“there’s only a house. Come in,” he added, heavily; “we must talk this +out.” + +She followed him, and for a moment they neither of them spoke; he +fumbled about in the warm darkness for a match, and lifting the shade, +lighted the lamp on the table; then he looked at her. “Athalia,” he +said, in a terrified voice, “I am--_I am a Shaker!_” + +“No--no--no!” she said. She grew very white, and sat down, breathing +quickly. Then the color came back faintly into her lips. “Don’t say it, +Lewis; it isn’t true. It can’t be true!” + +“It is true,” he said, with a groan. He had sunk into a chair, and +his face was hidden in his hands. “What are we going to do?” he said, +hoarsely. + +“Why, you mustn’t be!” she cried; “you can’t be--that’s all. You can’t +STAY if I go!” + +“I must stay,” he said. + +There was a stunned silence. Then she said, in an amazed whisper: + +“What! You don’t love me any more?” + +Still he was silent. + +“You--don’t--love--me,” she said, as if repeating some astounding fact, +which she could not yet believe. + +He seemed to gather his courage up. + +“I have--” he tried to speak; faltered, broke, went on: “I have--the +kindliest feelings toward you, ‘Thalia”--his last word was in a whisper. + +“Stop!” she protested, with a frightened look--“oh, stop!--don’t say +THAT!” He did not speak; and suddenly, looking at his fixed face, she +cried out, violently: “Oh, why, why did I go up to the graveyard that +day? Why did you let me?” She stared at him, her forget-me-not eyes +dilating with dismay. “It all came from that. If we hadn’t walked up the +hill that morning--” He was speechless. Then, abruptly, she sprang to +her feet, and, running to him, knelt beside him and tried to pull down +the hands in which he had again hidden his face. “Lewis, it’s I--Tay! +You don’t ‘feel kindly’ to ME? Lewis, you haven’t stopped loving me?” + +“I am a Shaker,” he said, helplessly. “I can’t give up my religion, even +for you.” + +He got on his feet and stood before her, his empty palms hanging at his +sides in that strange gesture of entire hopelessness; he tried to speak, +but no words came. The lamp on the table flickered a little. Their +shadows loomed gigantic on the wall behind them; the little hot room was +very still. + +“You think you don’t love me?” Athalia said, between set teeth; “_I know +better!_” With a laugh she caught his arm with both her shaking hands, +and kissed him once, and then again. Still he was silent. Then with +a cry she threw herself against his breast. “I love you,” she said, +passionately, “and you love me! Nothing on earth will make me believe +you don’t love me,”--and for one vital moment her lips burned against +his. + +His arms did not close about her,--but his hands clinched slightly. Then +he moved back a step or two, and she heard him sigh. “Don’t, sister,” he +said, gently. + +She threw up her hands with a frantic gesture. “SISTER? My God!” she +said; and left him. + +* * * * * + + +There was no further struggle between them. A week later she went away. +As he told her, “the house was there”--and to that she went until she +should go to find some whirl of life that would make her deaf to voices +of the past. + +As for Lewis, he did not see that miserable departure from the Family +House in the shabby old carryall that had been the Shakers’ one +vehicle for more than thirty years. He told Nathan he wanted to mow the +burial-ground up on the hill that morning. From that high and silent +spot he could see the long white road up from the settlement on one +side and down to the covered bridge on the other side. He sat under the +pine-tree, his scythe against the stone wall behind him, his clinched +hands between his knees. Sitting thus, he watched the road and the +slow crawl of the shaky old carriage. ... After it had passed the +burying-ground and was out of sight, he hid his face in his bent elbow. + + +It was some ten years afterward that word came to Eldress Hannah that +Athalia Hall was dying and wanted to see her husband; would he come to +her? + +“Will you go, Brother Lewis?” Eldress asked him, doubtfully. + +“Yee, if you think best,” he said. + +“I do think best,” the old woman said. + +He went, a bent, elderly man in a gray coat, threading his wavering way +through the noisy buffet of the streets of the city where Athalia had +elected to dwell. He found her in a gaudy hotel, full of the glare of +pushing, hurrying life. He sat down at her bedside, a little breathless, +and looked at her with mild, remote eyes. + +“Do you forgive me, Lewis?” she said. + +“I have nothing to forgive, sister,” he told her. + +“Don’t call me that!” she cried, with feeble passion. + +He looked a little bewildered. “Yee,” he said, “I forgive you.” + +“Oh, Lewis!--Lewis!--Lewis!” she mourned; “this is what I have done!” + She wept pitifully. His face grew vaguely troubled, as if he did not +quite understand.... Then, abruptly, the veil lifted: his eyes dilated +with pain; he passed his hand over his forehead once or twice and +sighed. Then he looked down at the poor, dying face that once he had +loved. + +“Why, ‘Thalia!” he said, in a surprised and anguished voice; suddenly +he put his arm under the restless head. “There, there, little Tay; don’t +cry,” he said, and smiled at her. + +And with that she was content to fall asleep. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way to Peace, by Margaret Deland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY TO PEACE *** + +***** This file should be named 2685-0.txt or 2685-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/8/2685/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |