"No, thank you, child; but I should like to hear more of that book
you were reading to me last night--that is, if it will not weary
you, my child."
"Certainly not--here it is. I was waiting for you to ask me for more
of it. Shall I begin now, or defer it till after tea?"
"Now, if you please."
Mrs. Asbury seated herself on an ottoman at her husband's feet, and
threw her arm up over his knee; and, opening Butler's "Analogy,"
Beulah began to read where she left off the previous day, in the
chapter on "a future life."
With his hand resting on his wife's head, Dr. Asbury listened
attentively. At the conclusion of the chapter, she turned to the
dissertation on "personal identity," so nearly related to it, and
read it slowly and impressively.
"It is remarkably clear and convincing," said the doctor, when she
ceased.
"Yes; his argument that death, instead of being an abnormal event,
is as much a law of our nature as birth (because necessary to future
development), and that, as at maturity, we have perfections of which
we never dreamed in infancy, so death may put us in possession of
new powers, by releasing us from the chrysalis state, is one which
has peculiar significance to my mind. Had Cornelia Graham studied
it, she would never have been tortured by the thought of that
annihilation which she fancied awaited her. From childhood this
question of 'personal identity' has puzzled me; but, it seems to me,
this brief treatise of Butler is quite satisfactory. It should be a
text-book in all educational institutions; should be scattered far
and wide through the land."
Here the solemn tones of the church bells told that the hour of
evening service drew near. The doctor started, and said abruptly: "Bless me! Alice, are we to have no tea to-night?"
"Yes; the tea bell rang some minutes ago; but Beulah had not quite
finished her chapter, and I would not interrupt."
As they walked on to the dining room he said: "You two are going to church, I suppose?"
"No; I shall remain with you," answered his wife gently.
"You need not, my dear. I will go with you, if you prefer it."
Beulah did not look up, but she knew that true-hearted wife was
unspeakably happy; and understood why, during tea, she was so quiet,
so unwontedly silent.