Julian Hawthorne

“ Why had it not been made a man, speaking in language men could comprehend,—able to walk amongst them, and pour, forth the truth and wisdom with which its soul was overburdened? In the lonely nights the oak tree tossed its great arms tumultuously abroad, and called to the sea for comfort and counsel; and the sea beat out a resounding answer on the shore, bidding it wait, and trust to the future to bring the opportunity at last. ”

“ It sent forth a low call to the ocean, and the ocean answered with a long-drawn, thunderous moan, through which yet quivered a chord of sublime joy, as if mourning and yet rejoicing that now, after the weary waiting and disappointed hopes of a century, the moment when the end of all must take place had arrived; for no great purpose can be attained without sacrifice, and the oak now felt that the accomplishment of its life-long desire would only be effected at that life's cost. ”

“ But the war of the Revolution devastated the land, and times grew harder and harder. The oak tree, standing immovably in its place, saw poverty tighten its grasp, day by day, and year by year, on the inhabitants of the little cottage. The brass-clamped chest seemed to burn at its root, but it was powerless to speak, or give forth the wealth which had been entrusted to its keeping. Often it questioned the ocean, but the answers it received were hard to understand, and gave the oak tree but scanty comfort. ”

“ No wonder that, under the guidance of an instructor so profoundly wise, of experience so inimitably vast, yet possessing, in all its vigor, the freshness and power of an immortal youth, the oak tree should become inspired, during the two or three centuries of its existence, with countless noble thoughts and lofty aspirations, and long to do something to prove itself a worthy pupil of its mighty master. But many years had passed, and still the opportunity delayed. In summer tree spread a cool shade across the green-sward, and in winter gave broken branches to kindle poor people's fires ”

“ One night, in the heart of winter, the oak stood looking out across the gloomy ocean, its bare brown arms laden with newly-fallen snow. The prospect was a bleak and dismal one, relieved only by the warm glow of a candle in the window of the neighboring cottage. By the candle sat the young wife of Skipper Donne, who owned the fastest schooner on the coast; and near at hand, in a cradle, a young child lay sleeping. The mother, ever and anon, would turn her face to the window, and a shade of anxiety would flit across her sweet and thoughtful features ”

“ It had become the guardian of a human secret, the sharer of a human interest, the confidant of a human being. It quivered to its topmost twig with happiness, and the sea rolled an enormous breaker to the shore, and dashed it into snowy foam, for sympathy. Scarcely had the sound died away among the rocks when the sharp crack of a pistol-shot rang out on the beach, succeeded by hoarse cries, and the noise of a furious struggle. The skipper paused, hesitated a moment with his eyes fixed on the cottage window, and then, with set teeth, plunged down the bank and into the midst of the conflict. ”

“ But the link which bound it to mankind could not be broken with a wish; the oak was held to its destiny, and in it found its only happiness, sad though it were.
One Christmas eve, when the widow Donne had grown very old and infirm, she rose up from her place before the fire, and seemed to be making preparations to go out. Her son, accustomed always to humor her fancies, wrapped a warm cloak around her shoulders, and followed her forth into the night. She walked along the shore to a spot just below where the oak tree grew, and there stopped and threw herself upon her knees. ”

“ It yearned for a task commensurate with the height of its love and knowledge; gladly would it have given up its life in the accomplishment of an object worthy of its sacrifice; but alas! it was but a tree, and doomed to stand forever where it grew. ”

“ Perhaps, too, this chest was made heavier still by the stain of innocent blood; but, if so, it is a secret which the oak, in life or death, has never once revealed, and therefore let us be thankful.
"Let's anchor her here for the present, my lads," said the skipper to his men. "There's no chance to divide our fortune till these hawks of custom-house officers be off our wake. Let but this night pass, and they find us in the morning safe in port and no tell-tale ballast in the hold, and we may enjoy a merry Christmas even yet. Come! now, to work!" ”

“ So, with an involuntary sigh that, after all its hundred years of waiting, it should be permitted nothing more than to witness a joy to which it could not contribute, the venerable tree settled down to the prospect of an uneventful and green old age. ”

“ We can build no beautiful villa on the site of the old cottage. If you take me now, Mildred, you take a beggar. I have no money—no home. The war has taken the one, and destroyed the other. Yet I will make a fortune with my hands, if I may work for you also. ”