Neville Trueman, the Pioneer Preacher : a tale of the war of 1812Withrow, W. H. (William Henry)
History
Neville Trueman, the Pioneer Preacher : a tale of the war of 1812
Withrow, W. H. (William Henry)
Clergy -- Fiction; United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
During the remainder of the winter the domestic history of the
household at The Holms was unmarked by any incidents. The
discharge of her homely duties and kindly charities to the people
of the devastated village of Niagara who still lingered in the
neighbourhood engrossed all the time and energies of Katharine
Drayton. These wholesome activities prevented any morbid breedings
or introspections, and furnished the best possible tonic for the
strengthening of her moral purposes. Captain Villiers found
frequent opportunities of visiting The Holms. His manner to Kate
was one of chivalric courtesy; but, with a self-imposed restraint,
he studiously endeavoured to repress any manifestation of tender
feelings. Kate was cordial and kind, but as studiously avoided
giving an opportunity for the manipulation of such feelings had it
been contemplated.
Neville Trueman was engaged in special religious services night
after night for nearly the whole winter at several appointments of
his circuit. The revival influence seemed to widen and deepen as
the weeks went by. He often called to invite Zenas to these
meetings. At times the young man seemed strangely subdued and
docile, and Neville rejoiced over what he considered the yielding
of his will to the hallowed influences of the good Spirit of God.
At other times he seemed wilful and wayward, or even petulant and
testy, giving evidence of the resistance of his human will to the
Divine drawings of which he was the subject. At such times the
faith of Neville was sorely tried; but his patience and
forbearance were never exhausted, and the sisterly affection and
tenderness of Katharine were redoubled. Zenas would then break out
into self-upbraidings and self-reproaches; and Kate, not knowing
what to say, said little, but, in the solitude of her chamber,
prayed for him all the more.
"Kate, you're an angel and I'm a brute," he said one day after one
of these exacerbations of temper; "I don't see how you can bear
with me."
"Bear with you, Zenas!" she replied, tears of sympathy rilling her
eyes, "I could give my life for you. Alas! my brother, very far
from an angel am I; I am a poor weak sinner, and I need the grace
of God every day to cleanse my heart and keep it clean."
"If you, who are a saint, need that, what do I need, who am viler,
than a beast?" he exclaimed with an impassioned gesture.
"You need the same, Zenas, dear; and it is for you if you only
will seek it," she replied laying her hand gently on his arm.
He snatched her hand, kissed it passionately, then dropped it and
turned abruptly away. She looked after him wistfully; but felt a
glad assurance spring up in her heart that the object of so many
prayers could not be finally lost.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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