American fiction -- 19th century; Dime novels; Popular literature
Mrs. Tressalia was deeply interested in his ideas, even if she did not
fully agree with them.
“I fear if I should try to explain all my theory regarding it, it would
involve us in an endless discussion,” Earle said. “The garnishing of
precious stones _may_ mean the cultivation of those many virtues spoken
of by the apostle Paul—such as love, peace, long suffering, gentleness,
etc. Surely those are precious jewels that every one would like to
possess.”
“Sonny boy, if _you_ square _your_ life by your father’s rule, you’ll
not lack for symmetry in the sight of God when you come into the ‘golden
city,’” muttered Tom Drake’s mother, with fast-dropping tears, as she
bent fondly over little Paul, whom she had taken from his father’s arms.
Earle smiled good-naturedly as he caught the low-spoken words, for he
knew that in the grateful old creature’s eyes he lacked no good thing in
all the catalogue of virtues.
“That is so,” said Paul Tressalia, who had also heard her; “and whether
Earle’s theory is the correct one or not, it can never harm one to put
it in practice, particularly if it attains to that nobility which has
become so rooted and grounded in his character,” and the look of
affectionate admiration which he bestowed upon his kinsman testified to
the heartiness of his words.
We cannot follow them further, but we have learned enough to tell us
something of the principles of goodness and purity which dwelt in that
charming household, and which could not fail to ennoble and elevate all
by whom they were surrounded.
Who, like Earle Wayne, would not like to make his life foursquare? Who,
although he may never attain to the worldly greatness which fell to his
life, would not seek to attain that better nobility of character, which,
when measured by the “golden reed of the angel,” will be found of
faultless symmetry, like the city whose “length, and breadth, and height
are equal?”
What wouldst thou of life?
Love, purity, freedom from strife;
Bless’d virtues, in which heaven is rife;
“The victor’s crown, the conqueror’s meed,”
The perfect measure of the Golden Reed.
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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