Old Lady Mary

Old Lady Mary

Project Gutenberg's Old Lady Mary, by Margaret O. (Wilson) Oliphant
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Title: Old Lady Mary A Story of the Seen and the Unseen
Author: Margaret O. (Wilson) Oliphant
Release Date: November 11, 2003 [EBook #10049]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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MARY ***

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OLD LADY MARY.
A STORY OF THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.
By Margaret O. (Wilson) Oliphant

I
She was very old, and therefore it was very hard for her to make up her
mind to die. I am aware that this is not at all the general view, but that
it is believed, as old age must be near death, that it prepares the soul for
that inevitable event. It is not so, however, in many cases. In youth we
are still so near the unseen out of which we came, that death is rather
pathetic than tragic,--a thing that touches all hearts, but to which, in
many cases, the young hero accommodates himself sweetly and
courageously. And amid the storms and burdens of middle life there are
many times when we would fain push open the door that stands ajar,
and behind which there is ease for all our pains, or at least rest, if
nothing more. But age, which has gone through both these phases, is
apt, out of long custom and habit, to regard the matter from a different
view. All things that are violent have passed out of its life,--no more
strong emotions, such as rend the heart; no great labors, bringing after
them the weariness which is unto death; but the calm of an existence
which is enough for its needs, which affords the moderate amount of
comfort and pleasure for which its being is now adapted, and of which
there seems no reason that there should ever be any end. To passion, to
joy, to anguish, an end must come; but mere gentle living, determined
by a framework of gentle rules and habits--why should that ever be
ended? When a soul has got to this retirement and is content in it, it
becomes very hard to die; hard to accept the necessity of dying, and to
accustom one's self to the idea, and still harder to consent to carry it
out.
The woman who is the subject of the following narrative was in this
position. She had lived through almost everything that is to be found in
life. She had been beautiful in her youth, and had enjoyed all the
triumphs of beauty; had been intoxicated with flattery, and triumphant
in conquest, and mad with jealousy and the bitterness of defeat when it
became evident that her day was over. She had never been a bad
woman, or false, or unkind; but she had thrown herself with all her
heart into those different stages of being, and had suffered as much as
she enjoyed, according to the unfailing usage of life. Many a day

during these storms and victories, when things went against her, when
delights did not satisfy her, she had thrown out a cry into the wide air
of the universe and wished to die. And then she had come to the higher
table-land of life, and had borne all the spites of fortune,--had been
poor and rich, and happy and sorrowful; had lost and won a hundred
times over; had sat at feasts, and kneeled by deathbeds, and followed
her best-beloved to the grave, often, often crying out to God above to
liberate her, to make an end of her anguish, for that her strength was
exhausted and she could bear no more. But she had borne it and lived
through all; and now had arrived at a time when all strong sensations
are over, when the soul is no longer either triumphant or miserable, and
when life itself, and comfort and ease, and the warmth of the sun, and
of the fireside, and the mild beauty of home were enough for her, and
she required no more. That is, she required very little more, a useful
routine of hours and rules, a play of reflected emotion, a pleasant
exercise of faculty, making her feel herself still capable of the best
things in life--of interest in her fellow-creatures, kindness to them, and
a little gentle intellectual occupation, with books and men around. She
had not forgotten anything in her life,--not the excitements and delights
of her beauty, nor love, nor