Country life -- Fiction; Vicars, Parochial -- England -- Fiction
But of the two, Catherine had herself to go first. Again and again was
I sent for to say farewell to Mrs Tomkins, and again and again I
returned home leaying her asleep, and for the time better. But on a
Saturday evening, as I sat by my vestry-fire, pondering on many things,
and trying to make myself feel that they were as God saw them and not
as they appeared to me, young Tom came to me with the news that his
sister seemed much worse, and his father would be much obliged if I
would go and see her. I sent Tom on before, because I wished to follow
alone.
It was a brilliant starry night; no moon, no clouds, no wind, nothing
but stars. They seemed to lean down towards the earth, as I have seen
them since in more southern regions. It was, indeed, a glorious night.
That is, I knew it was; I did not feel that it was. For the death which
I went to be near, came, with a strange sense of separation, between me
and the nature around me. I felt as if nature knew nothing, felt
nothing, meant nothing, did not belong to humanity at all; for here was
death, and there shone the stars. I was wrong, as I knew afterwards.
I had had very little knowledge of the external shows of death. Strange
as it may appear, I had never yet seen a fellow-creature pass beyond
the call of his fellow-mortals. I had not even seen my father die. And
the thought was oppressive to me. “To think,” I said to myself, as I
walked over the bridge to the village-street—“to think that the one
moment the person is here, and the next—who shall say WHERE? for we
know nothing of the region beyond the grave! Not even our risen Lord
thought fit to bring back from Hades any news for the human family
standing straining their eyes after their brothers and sisters that
have vanished in the dark. Surely it is well, all well, although we
know nothing, save that our Lord has been there, knows all about it,
and does not choose to tell us. Welcome ignorarance then! the ignorance
in which he chooses to leave us. I would rather not know, if He gave me
my choice, but preferred that I should not know.” And so the oppression
passed from me, and I was free.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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