CHAPTER XII. - OLD ERROR WOUNDED, BUT NOT CONQUERED.

 

MR. EVANS, in the meantime, had not spoken, but sat in a drooping, dejected attitude, and when Ursula had once more taken her seat at the table, he said, addressing his wife:

 

"Katherine, I begin to think that many of our former ideas were very foolish, and devoid of common sense. Really," he continued, with a smile, as he caught sight of his little daughter skipping and playing on the lawn, now here, now there, filling her little hands with flowers, while the kittens gamboled about her—"really, Katherine; how could a little child like that play the harp before it was old enough to be taught? Moreover, she does not know how to sing. She is not even old enough to comprehend anything about God or heaven. Really, Kate; it is ridiculous to think that such a little creature, with her baby mind, could possibly play a harp and sing praises to God forever and for evermore."

 

Ursula gave a long, silvery laugh.

 

"I think," she observed, "that even if there were a personal God, he would be more cruel than satan is represented to be, if he could require millions upon millions of little children and babes to do nothing throughout eternity but sing his praises. One, certainly, would consider such a God as that capable of any horrible cruelty. Can you think that God is such an egotistical being that he requires nothing of the souls and spirits of men, women and children, but to shout his praises forever and forever?"

 

And her laughter pealed forth once more. The idea was really so ludicrous that I laughed too, in spite of my efforts to the contrary. Mr. Evans looked up more brightly and cheerfully than he had previously done, and Ponto showed his ivories nearly from ear to ear: catching up the baby's harp he began to play a negro melody, while he sang or, rather, chanted a medley about 'de promis' lan', de lan' flowin' wif milk an' honey.'

 

Bress de Lor'! Hallelujah! O, Canaan it am a happy lan'! Bress de Lor'! Hallelujah! Down by de riber Jerden! Hallelujah! De Lor' he am good to ole Ponto! Hallelujah! De Lor' bress my missus! Hallelujah!

 

"Shut up! you imp of satan!" exclaimed Mrs. Evans, wrathfully. "How dare you mock in that style? you horrible, wicked, old negro! Get out of my sight, or I shall be tempted to do you a mischief! What do you know of God or heaven?"

 

"Den ef I doan know nofing bout de Lor, my missus she do, an' she tell Ponto all 'bout him. Ha-ha!" and he smiled very broadly indeed.

 

Mrs. Evans was now beside herself with anger. She caught up her goblet, and flung it at the negro's head. I learned afterwards that she had been in the habit, before leaving the earth, of flinging goblets, dishes, knives and forks at the heads of her dependents and slaves, when in anger. The goblet went directly through the negro's head without doing him the slightest injury.

 

"He—he—he! Ha—ha—ha!" He laughed, loud and long. "Missus can't hurt ole Ponto.

 

"No—no!" he cried. "O, de Lor' am good! Bress de Lor'! Hallelujah!"

 

Mrs. Evans's face, at this juncture, was altogether frightful in its expression. I looked at her in great surprise, and began to realize that heaven and hell were conditions more than places: the negro and the little child were happy in their innocence, while the cultured and formerly very wealthy Mrs. Evans was burning in flames of torment. She believed in a small heaven, a personal God, a burning hell, and a devil; therefore, they resided within her own mind; her spirit lived and suffered within a hell of its own creating, whilst happiness and heaven lay all around her. The lady herself was not entirely to blame; she deserved pity. Those terrible ideas had been instilled into her mind by her parents, teachers, the church, and the society which she had frequented from her childhood up; she was now reaping the fruit of false teaching. Can my readers wonder that my soul ardently longed for the gulf between heaven and earth to be spanned, that truth instead of error might prevail among men? And is it at all surprising, now that the gulf is spanned, that the bridges are thronged by an invisible host, willing and eager to break the bread of everlasting life with man, that he may eat of the tree of good and evil, and his eyes be opened to discover his nakedness? which means, that he may become aware how naked and ignorant his soul is of the truth.

 

The old mythological fable of Adam and Eve and the garden of Eden, means nothing more nor less; and the eating of the fruit of tree of knowledge of good and evil, whereby they discover their nakedness, means that by obtaining knowledge they thereby discovered how ignorant and naked they were, naked of the truths of creation and the immortal life. It was by thoughtfully observing a serpent or the lowest forms of reptile life, that set woman's mind to questioning about creation, life and immortality: through her, man also began to question, and, consequently, both found themselves very naked and ignorant; they also came to the conclusion, it was by diligence and labor alone that truth could be discovered.

 

How foolish for people to suppose that a serpent talked: or, that a person called Eve plucked fruit from a tree whereby she discovered that her body was naked, when the old story is merely allegorical, or a pictured representation of the state of mankind without knowledge. Good and evil mean truth and error. But to return from this digression.

 

Mrs. Evans's face was really horrible to look at, so filled with revenge and wrath was it.

 

"Leonard!" she cried; "how can you sit there, and see your wife thus insulted and abused by a vile girl and a low, wicked negro? You are supinely weak, and always were! You never possessed manhood! You always would allow me to be insulted by any and everybody who chose to do so. I really think it makes you happy to see me abused! If you were half a man you would take my part! But, no! you usually add your insults to their injuries!"

 

"O Kate!" replied Mr. Evans; "I have always tried to do my best, and meant to be a good husband to you; but, somehow, we never could get along. You always turn upon me when you have trouble with others."

 

"And if I have turned to you, very little good ever came from it!" she said, tartly.

 

Mr. Evans again fell into his drooping, dejected attitude, which aroused my sympathy. Mrs. Evans now remained silent, her eyes flashing defiantly, a scowl on her countenance. At length the gentleman turned to me, saying:

 

"You seem to accept this life in a different spirit from what Katherine does; although, you tell us you were a strict Catholic up to the time of coming here, yet, you look very beautiful, quite happy and content. I wish Kate could look upon this life as you seem to do."

 

"There you are again!" she cried. "Every one is more beautiful and better than your wife! It has always been just that way! No wonder I am wretched! I have never had anything to make me otherwise!"

 

"I am quite happy," I said, replying to the gentleman. "This world is exceedingly beautiful to me; besides, the joy of finding my three lovely children, and they so beautiful and happy, how can one be otherwise than happy with them? I am quite happy, but cannot say that I am content: am eager to see more of this life, and learn as rapidly as possible. My sweet sister, whom I also have found here, tells me that heaven and happiness extend for ever before us: the more wisdom we obtain, the nearer heaven we are; that it is love and wisdom which make heaven; that it is ignorance and error which make hell or unhappiness. Sir, you must pardon my boldness, for I am yet but a babe in wisdom, nevertheless, I feel like applying the test to your wife's condition and your own. Why are you both in hell or unhappiness? Mrs. Evans somewhat deeper in the flames than yourself."

 

Mr. Evans raised his eyes to mine with a look of great interest, yet they were sad and enquiring.

 

"Well, madam," he said, "I believe if Kate was happy and loved me, I should be as happy as you seem to be. We are here together, and our baby is also with us. You tell me, as does Miss Ursula, that love and wisdom make heaven. It is love which I need, and if I had love I believe I should soon obtain wisdom."

 

"When love and wisdom meet and join hands," said Ursula, "the gates of heaven are wide open to them.

 

"But Kate will never love me," he continued, despairingly. "She never has, she never will, and without love I can never be happy."

 

"Very true," said Ursula; "but, Mr. Evans, you need not remain without love, and therefore need not be unhappy."

 

"What is that vile hussy saying to you? cried Mrs. Evans.

 

Mr. Evans looked guilty and frightened. I noticed that he trembled violently.

 

"I knew you were a vile, bad girl," screamed Mrs. Evans; "aiding my husband to be false to his marriage vows and to me! What do you mean, you wretched creature? Leave this house instantly, or I will call a servant and have you thrust forth!"

 

In her wrath she had forgotten where she was, and her earthly habit asserted itself.

 

"You forget yourself, Mrs. Evans," replied Ursula, quietly. "This is not your house; it belongs to your former slave, Ponto, an abode of his constructing, and I think he has done remarkably well considering the few advantages he has had in his past life. Madam, this house belongs to Ponto; and if he bids me go I shall be happy to obey, but if not I shall remain a short time longer."

 

Mrs. Evans covered her face with her hands, and screamed hysterically:

 

"O wretched—wretched woman that I am! O Lord, open thine ears to my cry! O Lord, open the gates of heaven that thine handmaiden may enter in! O Lord, take me to Thyself; for I am humbled even into the dust!"

 

"Mrs. Evans", said Ursula, with some severity you may keep on screaming in that style throughout eternity, and it will not do the least good: you will never enter heaven until you become wise and loving. If you would cease your screaming and praying, turn about and love your little child and your husband, recognize the goodness and generosity of your former slave, and accept the teachings of those who have been in this world longer than you have, allowing your former errors to drop away from you as this lady has done," turning to me, "you would begin to see the gates of heaven standing ajar, and before long you would be able to squeeze through."

 

"O leave me—leave me! you emissary of satan!" screamed the wretched woman. Leave me, or I shall go mad—mad—mad!" and she rushed back into the room which she had left, and we could hear her sobbing and crying with hysterical violence.