_ALONE AT HOME._
"Nor blame I Death because he bare
The use of virtue out of earth:
I know translated human worth
Will bloom to profit otherwhere."--_In Memoriam._
It need not be told, and it could not, how the loss of his wife
affected Eli Jones, already venerable with age. Those only who have
borne a like sorrow know the depth of the wound. The strength of his
character and the weight of his love were never shown more fully than
in the first years of his widowed life. War had taken his first-born,
his sons were at their work in the world, his eldest daughter was
married, and the youngest daughter alone was still with him. Though
sixty-six years of age, he was yet strong, and knew that much more
work was before him if his life should be spared. There was no time
given him to rest. Not his to question the ways of Providence, but to
work while the day lasted. He could turn his face to no field where he
was not reminded of her who had diligently stood by his side, and his
loneliness gave a new power to his words. As Tennyson of his departed
friend, he could say:
"Far off thou art, but ever nigh;
I have thee still, and I rejoice;
I prosper circled by thy voice;
I shall not lose thee though I die."
For the first few years after the separation he was generally engaged
near home. The duties of farm-work filled up the spaces between the
monthly, quarterly, and general meetings which he attended. The little
black horse that all his townsmen knew so well grew very familiar with
the winding roads to Vassalboro', Brooks, St. Albans, Manchester, and
other near-lying towns. "Uncle Eli has come" made all who had gathered
at the meeting-house rejoice, and, whether the subject was peace,
temperance, or salvation, he spoke strong words to stir the listeners.
During all his life he has loved to till the soil; trees seem to be
near friends of his. Lowell is
"Midway to believe
A tree among his far progenitors,
Such sympathy is his with all the race."
Eli Jones hardly claims relationship with the birches, but they are
his close friends, and he has had many happy hours working among his
trees. Perhaps he never was a farmer such as the editors of
agricultural journals would extol, and it is certain that the hilly
fields, with here and there a ledge of rock, in his farm at Dirigo
would never have allowed him to accumulate wealth, even if his work
had been exclusively there; but he felt the nobility of the calling.
There was no yoke of bondage to the soil over him, and he got nearer
Nature's heart as he planted, as he dug, and as he harvested. Those
who exhort to a higher spiritual life can never know too much of the
mysteries of animal and plant life; they can never be too conversant
with the trials and pains which daily toil brings to those to whom
they preach. Paul could touch hearts when he appealed to tentmakers;
Peter had an unwonted power when fishermen were before him; and he who
holds up hands hardened by hoe and spade will gladly be heard by those
who have left the oxen in the furrow to listen to the gospel. Slavery
to work narrows the mind, as any slavery does, but diligence in some
business will never lessen the depth of a true Christian or weaken the
influence of an endowed minister. Eli Jones has always been loved by
all the animals in his house and barn, for there is true philosophy in
the line, "For Mary loved the lamb, you know." His sheep would come
from all corners of the pasture when he came to their feeding-place,
and often he took his cane and walked out to give them salt and to
learn their ways. Sheep that are loved grow best, and his flock was
proof of it. After work he sat under one of the large maples near the
house, and while resting, if alone, carefully studied the higher and
lower laws of the birds over his head and the insects at his feet. I
do not believe he ever knowingly stepped on a worm or beetle, and no
life of any kind was ever willingly destroyed by him. He could mow on
Fifth day until time for meeting, and then hay-making, and the
possibility of showers were out of the realm of his thought, for there
was a higher work which needed an undivided mind.
Nothing inanimate has interested him more than fossils and geological
specimens. He made a large collection of them, and whenever an unusual
stone showed itself under his hoe, it was examined. The perfection of
the minute shells, and consequently of the long-dead animals that once
dwelt in them, deeply impressed him. The variety of trees and flowers
which were growing in his garden and grounds astonished those who were
acquainted only with the birches, beeches, maples, pines, hemlocks,
the ordinary growth of the Maine woods; but he was delighted to see
trees of other climes flourish in the hard Northern soil of his
fields. His apples, pears, and grapes have reached the heart of many a
boy who has wondered why his father has always lived contented with
"Bitter Sweets" when "Early Harvests" are so good and easy to raise;
and an invitation to spend a day in this garden of the Hesperides was
not soon to be forgotten; and in fact it was a day of growth in the
boy's better nature.
There was something still more gratifying than such an invitation: it
was to sit in the "South Meeting-house" when "little David" or Samuel
or Joseph was the text. Others might instruct the heads of the
meeting, but little eyes, sometimes heavy with sleep, opened and grew
larger as the shepherd on the hills of Bethlehem had his arm nerved by
the strength of the Lord or as Samuel cried, "Speak, Lord, for thy
servant heareth." He drew pictures of those far-off scenes until a
panorama seemed unrolled and young and old saw the mighty characters
of the early dispensation working before them; and it was not long
before a new light came over those same hills and new songs filled the
air: "Rejoice, for unto you is born, this day, in the city of David a
Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."
During these days of farm-life Eli was often chosen to fill the
different town offices. As "supervisor of schools" he used to hear the
geography lessons and make the map look so large and real that the
scholars felt that it in fact represented solid earth. Then he was
sure to ask the whole school some question which would start a train
of new thoughts, and he was not likely to leave the school-house
without setting forth in a novel way the need of learning how to spell
and the mistake of trying greater fields of work before this one was
conquered.
It was in the "town-meeting--the old "New England town-meeting"--that
he showed his peculiar tact and strength. The men of the town were
there to settle the knotty question of "new roads," "improved
schools," "care of the poor," and a long list of similar points. It is
always a question with boys "how they make Presidents," and it is no
less so how they make "selectmen and supervisors;" and on these great
days young statesmen were being taught there. The speakers for and
against the different articles in the "warrant," stood up on benches
and spoke. A moderator was appointed who kept order and decided
difficult points. The younger, non-voters, were surprised to hear such
eloquence and to see such weighty matters handled by men whom they
knew only as great woodcutters or haymakers; but it really seemed to
them that another Demosthenes must be in the midst of them when Eli
Jones began to argue down the weak schemes and prop up the wise plans
for public improvement. At least one listener remembers how one
important point was settled. The question had been discussed whether
the town should pay up its "war debt" and by taking on itself a double
tax for one year throw off the burden of a heavy tax each year to pay
interest-money. It had been decided affirmatively, but after the
meeting was over and the citizens had gone home and talked with their
wives, it began to seem to many that too great a step had been taken,
and a call was issued for a new meeting to rescind the vote. There was
much feeling, and the signs of a strongly divided camp were evident.
The stir indicated that the question was momentous. A plain but strong
argument was given to rescind the vote on the ground that it would be
wiser to divide the amount and take a number of years to pay it than
to impoverish the poor farmers by forcing such a tax upon them at one
time. It may have been because the writer was very young and
impressible, but the reply seemed to him masterly and worthy of a much
greater occasion. Not a word was lost; the answer was brief, and its
burden was that it was time to be free from the stigma of this debt,
which either those present or their children must pay, and that if
every citizen would play the man and do his duty now the debt would be
blotted out, and easily. A vote was taken, and by a large majority it
was agreed to leave the next generation free from debt by paying it at
once; which was done.
The work of a man for the bettering of his own town is not
unimportant, though it may seem so when we consider the greater fields
of usefulness. He who has roused his neighbors and helped them find a
better way of educating their sons and daughters has accomplished a
work of immense importance. If all the towns and villages were taken
care of, the State would soon rest on a sure foundation, and he is a
skilful physician who labors to _heal_ the troubles in the towns which
supply _life_ to the cities. Eli Jones has always said that the great
aim must ever be to get the individual home in a proper condition. It
is not possible to show how much he quietly did in the years he spent
at Dirigo, but certainly it was time well used, and we need not lament
that he was "hemmed in" by county lines. What he did is poorly and
briefly recorded here, but it is written imperishably somewhere, not
infrequently on the impressible hearts of men.