Religious Studies, Sketches and PoemsStowe, Harriet Beecher
Religion
Religious Studies, Sketches and Poems
Stowe, Harriet Beecher
Religion
But now, the ancient legend goes on to say, that in the midst of
that gay and brilliant evening, a stranger of remarkable appearance
and manners was noticed among the throng. None knew him, or whence
he came. He mingled not in the mirth, and seemed to recognize no one
present, though he regarded all that was passing with a peculiar air
of still and earnest attention; and wherever he moved, his calm,
penetrating gaze seemed to diffuse a singular uneasiness about
him. Now his eye was fixed with a quiet scrutiny on the idolatrous
statues, with their votive adornments--now it followed earnestly the
young forms that were wreathing in the graceful waves of the dance;
and then he turned toward the tables, loaded with every luxury and
sparkling with wines, where the devotion to Bacchus became more
than poetic fiction; and as he gazed, a high, indignant sorrow
seemed to overshadow the calmness of his majestic face. When, in
thoughtless merriment, some of the gay company sought to address
him, they found themselves shrinking involuntarily from the soft,
piercing eye, and trembling at the low, sweet tones in which he
replied. What he spoke was brief; but there was a gravity and tender
wisdom in it that strangely contrasted with the frivolous scene, and
awakened unwonted ideas of heavenly purity even in thoughtless and
dissipated minds.
The only one of the company who seemed to seek his society was
the youngest, the fair little child Isa. She seemed as strangely
attracted towards him as others were repelled; and when,
unsolicited, in the frank confidence of childhood she pressed to
his side, and placed her little hand in his, the look of radiant
compassion and tenderness which beamed down from those eyes was
indeed glorious to behold. Yet here and there, as he glided among
the crowd, he spoke in the ear of some Christian words which, though
soft and low, seemed to have a mysterious and startling power; for
one after another, pensive, abashed, and confounded, they drew aside
from the gay scene, and seemed lost in thought. That stranger--who
was he? Who? The inquiry passed from mouth to mouth, and one and
another, who had listened to his low, earnest tones, looked on each
other with a troubled air. Erelong he had glided hither and thither
in the crowd; he had spoken in the ear of every Christian--and
suddenly again he was gone, and they saw him no more. Each had
felt the heart thrill within--each spirit had vibrated as if the
finger of its Creator had touched it, and shrunk conscious as if an
omniscient eye were upon it. Each heart was stirred from its depths.
Vain sophistries, worldly maxims, making the false look true, all
appeared to rise and clear away like a mist; and at once each one
seemed to see, as God sees, the true state of the inner world, the
true motive and reason of action, and in the instinctive pause that
passed through the company, the banquet was broken up and deserted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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