Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. II, No. X., March 1851Various
General
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. II, No. X., March 1851
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
By-and-by she forgot even me, and laid her soul bare before God, in a
long silent weeping prayer, before we left the church. Nearly all had
gone--and I stood by her, unwilling to disturb her, unable to join her.
At last she rose up, heavenly calm. She took my arm, and we went home
through the woods, where all the birds seemed tame and familiar. Nelly
said she thought all living creatures knew it was Christmas Day, and
rejoiced, and were loving together. I believed it was the frost that had
tamed them; and I felt the hatred that was in me, and knew that whatever
else was loving, I was full of malice and uncharitableness, nor did I
wish to be otherwise. That afternoon I bade Nelly and our child
farewell, and tramped to Padiham. I got work--how I hardly know; for
stronger and stronger came the force of the temptation to lead a wild,
free life of sin; legions seemed whispering evil thoughts to me, and
only my gentle, pleading Nelly to pull me back from the great gulf.
However, as I said before, I got work, and set off homeward to move my
wife and child to that neighborhood. I hated Sawley, and yet I was
fiercely indignant to leave it; with my purposes unaccomplished. I was
still an outcast from the more respectable, who stood afar off from such
as I; and mine enemy lived and flourished in their regard. Padiham,
however, was not so far away, for me to despair--to relinquish my fixed
determination. It was on the eastern side of the great Pendle Hill; ten
miles away, maybe. Hate will overleap a greater obstacle.
I took a cottage on the Fell, high up on the side of the hill. We saw a
long bleak moorland slope before us, and then the gray stone houses of
Padiham, over which a black cloud hung; different from the blue wood or
turf smoke about Sawley. The wild winds came down, and whistled round
our house many a day when all was still below. But I was happy then. I
rose in men's esteem. I had work in plenty. Our child lived and throve.
But I forgot not our country proverb: "Keep a stone in thy pocket for
seven years: turn it, and keep it seven years more; but have it ever
ready to cast at thine enemy when the time comes."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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