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diff --git a/2685-h/2685-h.htm b/2685-h/2685-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..484f89e --- /dev/null +++ b/2685-h/2685-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2141 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Way to Peace, by Margaret Deland + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +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 + +Release Date: January 10, 2009 [EBook #2685] +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, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE WAY TO PEACE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Margaret Deland + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h4> + TO LORIN DELAND<br /> <br /> KENNEBUNKPORT, MAINE AUGUST 12TH, 1910 + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, we’ve hardly come halfway!” she said. + </p> + <p> + Her husband, plodding along behind her, nodded ruefully. “Hardly,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It will be worth it when I get to the top and can see the view!” she + declared, and began to climb again. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Do hurry, Lewis!” she said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It looks pretty steep,” her husband warned her. + </p> + <p> + “It will be something to do, anyhow!” she said; and added, with a restless + sigh, “but you don’t understand that, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your head’s better than hers, young man,” the venturesome relative + insisted. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, tell her she’s a little fool!” cried the old lady, viciously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Shakers’ graveyard, I guess,” Lewis said; “I’ve heard that they don’t use + gravestones. Peaceful place, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he confessed, “I don’t believe it would be as interesting as + walking round on top of them.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in despair. + </p> + <p> + “Come, now,” he defended himself, “you don’t take much to peace yourself + at home.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t understand!” she said, passionately. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, little Tay,” he said, smiling, and putting a soothing hand + on hers; “I guess I do—after a fashion.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “How quiet it is!” she said, in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I’ll smoke,” Lewis said, and scratched a match on his trousers. + </p> + <p> + “How can you!” she protested; “it is profane!” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “You folks are out early, for the world’s people.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this a graveyard?” Athalia demanded, impetuously. + </p> + <p> + “Yee,” he said, smiling; “it’s our burial-place; we’re Shakers.” + </p> + <p> + “But why are there just the stakes—without names?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should there be names?” he said, whimsically; “they have new names + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is your community? Can we go and visit it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But what a difference!” she exclaimed; and Lewis smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve come up for pennyroyal,” the Shaker explained, sociably; “it grows + thick round here.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about the Shakers,” Athalia pleaded. “What do you believe?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She turned eagerly to her husband. “Never mind the ten-o’clock train, + Lewis. Let us go!” + </p> + <p> + “We could take a later train, all right,” he admitted, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, PLEASE!” she entreated, joyously. “We’ll help you pick pennyroyal,” + she added to the Shaker. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Should I pay myself?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You own everything in common, don’t you?” Lewis said. + </p> + <p> + “Yee,” said the Shaker; “we’re all brothers and sisters. Nobody tries to + get ahead of anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don’t believe in marriage?” Athalia asserted. + </p> + <p> + “We are as the angels of God,” he said, simply. + </p> + <p> + He left them and began to sickle his herbs, with the cheerfully obvious + purpose of escaping further interruption. + </p> + <p> + Athalia instantly bubbled over with questions, but Lewis could tell her + hardly more of the Shakers than she knew already. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is! He said they were happy; I would like to see what kind + of life makes people happy.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Are there children here?” Lewis asked, surprised; and their guide said, + sadly: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” Lewis exclaimed; “has she never known anything but—this?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could sit and sort herbs!” Athalia said, under her breath. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all so beautifully tranquil!” she whispered, looking about her with + blue, excited eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Tay and tranquillity!” Lewis said, with an amused laugh. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “I think I feel it—after a fashion,” he said, mildly; “I think I + have always felt the attraction of community life.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes,” Lewis said; “I suppose it’s peaceful—after a fashion. + Anything that isn’t alive is peaceful.” + </p> + <p> + “But their idea of brotherhood is the highest kind of life!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Narrow?” she said—“they are as wide as heaven itself! And, oh, the + peace of it!” + </p> + <p> + “But they are NOT human,” he would insist, smiling; “no marriage—that’s + not human, little Tay.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Amen!—amen!” said Brother William, vaguely. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Lydy!” Brother Nathan murmured. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Brother Nathan looked at her over his spectacles, and one of the sisters + opened her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see why she should,” Eldress Hannah added. + </p> + <p> + Two of the old brothers nodded agreement. + </p> + <p> + “The curiosity of the world’s people does not help their souls,” said one + of the knitters. + </p> + <p> + “She thinks we walk in the Way to Peace,” said the Eldress. + </p> + <p> + “Yee; we do,” said Brother George. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell her ‘nay’?” the Eldress questioned, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Yee,” said Brother George; and the dozing sisters murmured “Yee.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” said Brother Nathan; “her husband—HE has something to him. + Let her come.” + </p> + <p> + “But if she visited us, how would that affect him?” Eldress Hannah asked, + surprised into faint animation. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It’s getting late, Eldress,” one of them said, and glanced at the clock. + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll tell her she may come?” said Eldress Hannah, reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “He can make the wrath of man to praise Him,” Brother Nathan encouraged + her. + </p> + <p> + “Yee; but I never heard that He could make the foolishness of woman do + it,” the old woman said, grimly. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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—? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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— + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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: <i>she + wished to join the Shakers</i>. But she must have his consent, she added, + impatiently, because otherwise the Shakers would not let her come. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “Athalia,” he said, solemnly, “the salvation of our souls depends on doing + our duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she broke in, triumphantly, “out of your own lips:—isn’t it my + duty to do what seems to me right?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + She frowned at this impatiently; its perfect fairness meant nothing to + her. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.... + </p> + <p> + “I WILL go; I have a right to save my soul!” + </p> + <p> + And he said, very simply, “Well, Athalia, then I’ll go, too.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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>I</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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I think I can find enough to do,” he said; “the Shakers need an + able-bodied man; they only have those three old men.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” she asked, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve been to see them twice this winter,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Why!” she said, amazed, “you never told me!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t tell you everything nowadays, ‘Thalia,” he said, briefly. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, after a fashion,” Lewis Hall said; “but it isn’t human.” + </p> + <p> + And Brother Nathan smiled mystically. “Maybe that isn’t against it, in the + long run,” he said. + </p> + <p> + 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—<i>Brother + Lewis</i>.” It was an entirely sincere moment. Dramatic natures are not + often insincere, they are only unreal. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + 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, + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, ‘Thalia! how are you, dear?” + </p> + <p> + And she, with prim intensity, would reply, “Good-evening, BROTHER Lewis.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>“thus saith the Lord,”</i> 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>I</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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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>I</i> know the world. I know it, my boy! Do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, after a fashion,” Lewis said; and then he asked, suddenly, “Why did + you turn Shaker, Nathan?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, your doctrine would put an end to the world,” Lewis said, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I guess,” said Brother Nathan, dryly, “there ain’t any immediate danger + of the world coming to an end.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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, + </p> + <p> + “May the Lord guide him!” then added, practically, “It won’t amount to + anything. He thinks Shakerism isn’t human.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s not against it, that’s not against it!” Nathan declared, smiling; + “I’ve told him so a dozen times!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.... + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Eldress asked me to bring your mail down to you, Brother Lewis,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Lure her back,’” said Eldress Hannah, with a snort. “Poor boy! It’s good + riddance for him.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Athalia tossed her head and said, “Brother Lewis has his own affairs to + think of, I guess!” + </p> + <p> + And he said, eagerly: “Yes, ‘Thalia; I have been thinking—Some day + I’ll tell you. But not yet.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “She IS useful,” Sister Jane declared; “do you know, she got through the + churning before nine? I’d ‘a’ been at it until eleven!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll wear yourself out, Athalia; you haven’t had your clothes off for + three days and nights!” + </p> + <p> + “The Lord has upheld me, and His right hand has sustained me,” Athalia + quoted, with an uplifted look. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “This is my service,” Athalia said, smiling joyously. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Yee,” said Sister Jane; and there was a little chuckle. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “She’s done better than I expected to stay till now,” Jane said; and the + Eldress nodded. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there’s lots of work to be done,” he agreed, “but when people do it + together—” + </p> + <p> + “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>I</i> should say good + riddance! Though of course if it’s genuine repentance I’ll be glad. Only I + don’t think it is.” + </p> + <p> + “How pleased Nathan will be!” Lewis said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he’s pleased; he’s rather too pleased for a Shaker, it strikes me.” + </p> + <p> + Lewis frowned. “There is joy in the presence of the angels,” he reminded + her, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Davis; he wants to re-lease it in May.” + </p> + <p> + “He just takes it by the year, doesn’t he?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. “Wants a five-years’ lease next time.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Time flies,” he said, smiling. + </p> + <p> + She laughed and sighed. “Yes—I mean yee—indeed, it does! I was + just thinking, Lewis, we’ve been married ten years!” + </p> + <p> + “No, eight years. We were married just eight years,” he said, soberly. + </p> + <p> + The color flew into her face. “Oh, yee; we were married eight years when I + came in.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Athalia gave a little gasp—“WHAT!” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure yet,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You said Shakerism was unhuman!” Athalia protested, with a thrill of + panic in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “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.’” + </p> + <p> + “I—don’t understand,” she said, faintly; “you are not a Shaker?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “not yet. But perhaps some day—I am trying to follow + you, Athalia.” + </p> + <p> + She caught her breath with a frightened look. “Follow—ME?” Then she + burst out crying. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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!”... + </p> + <p> + The flushing heavens faded into ashes, but the solemn glow of + half-astonished gratitude lingered on his face. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + He started as if she had struck him. + </p> + <p> + “Lewis, Lewis, let us go home!” + </p> + <p> + The flame of mystical satisfaction went out of his face as a lighted + candle goes out in the wind. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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>I am a Shaker!</i>” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you mustn’t be!” she cried; “you can’t be—that’s all. You + can’t STAY if I go!” + </p> + <p> + “I must stay,” he said. + </p> + <p> + There was a stunned silence. Then she said, in an amazed whisper: + </p> + <p> + “What! You don’t love me any more?” + </p> + <p> + Still he was silent. + </p> + <p> + “You—don’t—love—me,” she said, as if repeating some + astounding fact, which she could not yet believe. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to gather his courage up. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a Shaker,” he said, helplessly. “I can’t give up my religion, even + for you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You think you don’t love me?” Athalia said, between set teeth; “<i>I know + better!</i>” 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + She threw up her hands with a frantic gesture. “SISTER? My God!” she said; + and left him. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “Will you go, Brother Lewis?” Eldress asked him, doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yee, if you think best,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I do think best,” the old woman said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Do you forgive me, Lewis?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to forgive, sister,” he told her. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t call me that!” she cried, with feeble passion. + </p> + <p> + He looked a little bewildered. “Yee,” he said, “I forgive you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + And with that she was content to fall asleep. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +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-h.htm or 2685-h.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, and David Widger + + +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. 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