Her own way

by Eglanton Thorne

"You must arm yourself against that which you fear. Do you know Dante's 'Purgatorio'?"

Juliet smiled faintly.

"I have read scarcely any books except novels," she said.

"No?" he said, with a smile. "Then you have a wide and rich field before you, and I advise you to begin to explore it without delay. But what I was going to say about the 'Purgatorio' is this: Dante represents the souls in purgatory as loving and courting the pain which is to purge them from their sin. There is an intimate connection between their sin and its punishment. Many of the sinners are depicted as enjoying that which their penitent will now eagerly desires—the exact opposite of their sin. Thus the proud willingly go bowed to the earth; gluttons delight in the pangs of hunger, and the slothful urge themselves onward in perpetual haste. Do you catch the idea? Can you apply it to yourself?"

"Ah, I see!" exclaimed Juliet, with kindling eyes. "You mean that I should now choose the opposite of that which I chose before—my own way."

"Just so," he said. "You have tasted the bitterness and sorrow which come of making self the centre of one's life. Now strive to get out of yourself. Make it your aim to mortify self. Desire to do the will of another rather than your own. Above all, seek to do the will of God."

Juliet had ceased to shed tears. Her face though sad was calm. She was silent for some moments after he had spoken, then she turned her eyes upon him with a look of perfect, childlike self-surrender, and said, "I will. I will try to do what you say; but you will help me? I shall see you sometimes, and you will help me?"

"Alas! I am afraid I cannot help you much," he said, with a troubled look, "nor shall I be able to see you. You knew, did you not, that I was only here for a short time? The Bishop of Durham has just appointed me to a living in the North of England, and I go there almost immediately."

Juliet's countenance fell. She sat looking at her hands in silence. It may be pardoned her that at that moment she could perceive the fact only as it affected herself. It never occurred to her to utter words of polite congratulation or goodwill.

"You will have better help than mine," he said, after a pause. "I shall think of you and pray for you. And I know that it will be well with you. You will gain the victory over yourself. Your life will yet be the better, your character the stronger and purer, for this painful experience."