The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 2, February, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 2, February, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Yet were they an humble, honest, and upright pair, walking purely before
God according to the light they had, and as highly respected and honored
in the community, that the fiat of the minister himself--and in those
days the minister's word was 'law and gospel' in the smaller New England
villages--was hardly more potent than that of Deacon Fletcher.
To this couple was born one son, and one only. Much as they mourned when
they saw their neighbors adding almost yearly to their groups of olive
branches, the Lord in his wisdom vouchsafed to them only this one child,
and they bowed meekly to the providence and tried to be content. Why his
father named the boy 'Jason,' no one could rightly tell; perhaps because
the fleece of his flocks had been truly fleece of gold to him; at all
events, thus was the child named, and in the strict rule of this
Christian couple was Jason reared.
It would be sad as well as useless to tell of the dreary winter-Sundays
in the cold meeting-house (it was thought a wicked weakness to have a
fire in a church then) through which he shivered and froze; of the
fearful sitting in the corner after the two-hours sermons and the
thirty-minutes prayers were done; of the utter absence of all cheerful
themes or thoughts on the holy days which they so straitly remembered to
keep; of the visions of sudden death, and the bottomless pit thereafter,
which haunted the child through long nights; of the sighing for green
fields and the singing of birds, on some summer Sundays, when the sun
was warm and the sky was fair; and the clapping of the old-fashioned
wooden seats, as the congregation rose to pray or praise, was sweeter
music than the blacksmith made who 'led the singing' through his nose.
It would be a dreary task to follow the boy through all this youthful
misery, and so I will let it pass. Doubtless all these things brought
forth their fruits when his day of freedom came. He was a large-framed,
full-blooded boy, with more than the usual allowance of animal spirits.
But his father was larger framed and tougher, and in his occasional
contests with his son victory naturally perched upon his banners, so
that the boy's spirit (which rebelled alway against the iron rule of the
household), if not broken down, was certainly so far kept under that it
rarely showed itself. It was a slumbering volcano, ready, when it
reached its strength, to pour out burning lava of passion and
evil-doing.
Thus the boy grew up almost to manhood, with very few rays of sunshine
cast over his early path to look back upon when he should Teach the
middle eminence of life. And the gloom of the present cheerless and
austere way caused him to look forward with the more rapture to that
time, when, with his twenty-first birth-day, should come the power to do
as he pleased with himself: with his hours of labor and of ease, with
his Sabbath-days and his work-days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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