John was unhappy. He was willing to admit that he had viewed things in a false light, and consequently had made a mess of his own happiness. He still retained an ardent enthusiasm for his profession, but he needed a change. He would divert his mind from his recent disappointments by travel in strange lands, and after he had acquired a large fortune he would settle down to the practice of law and do good among his fellows as a sort of atonement for his early mistakes. He placed his business in the hands of his partner, first making a will, in which he bequeathed to his mother’s family in Bermuda the savings he would leave in the bank, in case he did not return.
“I only make this will for form’s sake,” said he to his partner, as he gave it into the latter’s keeping. “I’ll be back here inside of two years and dazzle you with my wealth.”
He joined a party made up of hardy Eastern men, and they started on their journey with bright anticipations of a golden future. After many adventures and much suffering they reached the goal, only to find gaunt famine awaiting them with gruesome countenance. Day by day the cold increased; day by day the stock of provisions dwindled. Each morning they counted up the dead. One morning it was five; the next, fifteen. Ten only remained alive out of a party of thirty, and these so weak as to be unable to remove the bodies from the common cabin. John learned to pray then: “May the Lord, in His infinite mercy, come to our rescue.”
One morning seven more bodies lay close together in the bunks. It was plain then that a few hours would end the sufferings of the remainder. The last spark of fire had gone out. Two biscuits and a quart of water was all the sustenance left. Delirium seized upon all but John. He felt sick at heart. He prayed “God’s will be done!” All that night a heavy gale blew, and before morning two more poor souls went out into space. John was then alone, the last survivor of thirty gallant men. He dragged his body outside the door and away from the charnel-house. “Let me die under the open sky, with the moon and stars for company.” He told himself that the old fortune-teller had been right in her prediction: the field of ice and snow which had been shown to him stretched before him in dreary, unbroken silence. Overhead unknown constellations looked down upon his misery; the moon, cold, large, and spectral, poured an intense yet dreary light upon the scene.
He recalled the deep wisdom of lessons he had recently learned—the philosophy of life and death, assurance of the soul’s individuality, and the worthlessness of this earthly clay tenement. He thought of his newly found mother, whom he had been ashamed to acknowledge. His sight failed, his limbs lost their feeling, his heart was nearly pulseless—it was death. “O God! receive my soul. Dear, dear mother”—The child of sunny climes folded himself more closely in his blankets for the last time, and slept to wake no more on earth. So the dawn of Easter Sunday found him. That undisciplined soul went forth to wander in celestial spheres, there to continue the salutary lessons begun on earth, under the guidance of God’s angels, who minister to the needs of the immortal soul.
Not many months after a merry party might have been seen upon the deck of a Cunarder bound for Europe. It consisted of Doctor Lewis, Dora, little Sappho, Ma Smith, Will, Sappho—now Will’s wife—and little Alphonse. They were all going to make the long-promised visit to Mr. Withington.
Sappho was happy in contemplating the life of promise which was before her. Will was the noblest of men. Alphonse was to him as his own child. United by love, chastened by sorrow and self-sacrifice, he and she planned to work together to bring joy to hearts crushed by despair.
They stood upon the deck that night long after the others had retired to their staterooms, watching the receding shores with hearts filled with emotion too deep for words.
“My wife, my life. O, we will walk this world
Yoked in all exercise of noble end,
And so through those dark gates across the wild
That no man knows.
⋮
Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me.”
Colophon
Contending Forces
was published in by
Pauline E. Hopkins.
This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Weijia Cheng,
and is based on a transcription produced in by
Wikisource
and on digital scans from the
HathiTrust Digital Library.
The cover page is adapted from
At Dusk (Boston Common at Twilight),
a painting completed in by
Childe Hassam.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in and by
The League of Moveable Type.
The first edition of this ebook was released on
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at
standardebooks.org/ebooks/pauline-e-hopkins/contending-forces.
The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at standardebooks.org.
Uncopyright
May you do good and not evil.
May you find forgiveness for yourself and forgive others.
May you share freely, never taking more than you give.
Copyright pages exist to tell you that you can’t do something. Unlike them, this Uncopyright page exists to tell you that the writing and artwork in this ebook are believed to be in the United States public domain; that is, they are believed to
