Class P: )g d '4j: 
 Book 4J-Ji !i±. 
 CoipghtN»_ll..<)ii 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
The New Lights 
 
 A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS 
 
 By 
 HUGH MANN 
 
 ARTIetV6RITATl 
 
 m 
 
 BOSTON : RICHARD G. BADGER 
 
 1904 
 
Copyright 1904 by Richard G. Badger 
 All rights reserved 
 
 LIBRARY cf CONGHfiSS 
 Two Copies fJeceived 
 
 NOV 7 1904 
 
 Copyrignt tntry 
 CUSS^' XXc, No; 
 
 COPY 
 
 ^1?^ 
 
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 i-* 
 
 T&3 
 
 PRINTED AT 
 
 THE GORHAM PRESS 
 
 BOSTON U. S. A. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The New-Lights, so called in derision, are a 
 religious sect, established early in the nineteenth 
 century by schism from the Mennonites of Penn- 
 sylvania in the interests of greater religious 
 purism. 
 
 They are known locally as '' New Mennists " 
 (pronounced '' Men-neests," in the vernacular), 
 by way of distinction from the original church, — 
 the " Old Mennists." 
 
 They are non-resistent. They take no part in 
 politics, — not even to the extent of voting. They 
 refuse to go to war ; they also refuse to " go 
 to law," even to recover stolen property. But 
 they are earnest, hard-working, law-abiding citi- 
 zens. 
 
 They regard themselves as the only true church 
 of Christ, — looking upon all other sects as he- 
 retical. Their children are not members by birth- 
 right, and, as they make no effort to proselyte, 
 the sect is slowly dying out. 
 
 Many of them are very rich, principally in 
 land ; and their children, to whom they are pro- 
 verbially indulgent, often lead very " gay and 
 worldly '! lives. 
 
 They wear a peculiar garb, somewhat resem- 
 bling that of the Quakers. The women dress in 
 woolen or cotton, in sombre colors, — silk velvet, 
 
 3 
 
4 PREFACE 
 
 any material or color suggesting " pride of life," 
 being rigidly tabooed. Their gowns are made 
 with the greatest simplicity, and with these there 
 is always worn an apron, almost as long as the 
 dress, a kerchief, and a cap. The apron and ker- 
 chief are ordinarily of the same material as the 
 gown, — though in working garb the apron, with 
 a woolen gown, may be of gingham, and, on 
 extra occasions, the kerchief may be of soft white 
 lawn or cashmere. 
 
 The hair is drawn smoothly back under the 
 cap, — which is worn because of the scriptural 
 dictum that " a woman who goeth with head un- 
 covered dishonoreth her head," — and is made 
 of the sheerest Swiss muslin, with exquisite 
 daintiness, but following the severest lines, and 
 finished with rolled hems. 
 
 Note. — This play is, in a small way, histori- 
 cal. The descriptions of dress, manner, and cus- 
 toms, religious doctrines and practices, are tran- 
 scriptions from life. The incidents which make 
 the plot are founded upon fact, and occurred in 
 the generation preceding that of the author; — 
 but so little has the life of this exclusive sect 
 changed in the past century that these incidents 
 might have taken place within the past year. 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 ABRAHAM CAST — Wealthy farmer and New 
 
 Mennist preacher. 
 JAMES HERRON — Son-in-law to Abraham 
 
 Cast, — a prosperous young lawyer of the 
 
 " gay world " living in the neighboring 
 
 city of L . 
 
 JOHN RUNKEL — Well-to-do young farmer, 
 
 — neighbor of Abraham Cast. 
 HENRY EICHBERGER AND LEVI 
 
 SCHWARTZ — Prominent New Men- 
 
 nists, — neighbors of Abraham Cast. 
 JAKE METZGER — Hired man to Abraham 
 
 Cast. 
 KATHERINE — Daughter of Abraham Cast. 
 HANNAH BROWN — Hired girl to Abraham 
 
 Cast. 
 ELLEN BROWN ~ Sister to Hannah and hired 
 
 girl to Henry Eichberger. 
 MARY EICHBERGER — Wife of Henry Eich- 
 berger. 
 MARTHA RUNKEL — Mother of John 
 
 Runkel. 
 SUSAN MARTIN — Chief maid servant in 
 
 house of James Herron. 
 
 The action takes place in the houses of Abra- 
 ham Cast and of James Herron, alternately. 
 
 5 
 
ACT FIRST 
 
 Scene — A large, old-fashioned farmhouse 
 living-room, zinth two broad, deep-seated ivin- 
 dozvs and a zmde, open door in rear, giving upon 
 an ample hack-porch, and affording vistas of 
 level-stretching green fields smiling in the warm 
 sunlight of an early summer morning. 
 
 The huge fireplace, a scene of yule-log cheer 
 in winter; is closed in for the summer with heavy 
 wooden doors, and serves as a sort of closet. At 
 either end of the room is a door, leading to other 
 parts of the house. 
 
 The walls are whitewashed; the woodwork 
 is painted a dove-gray. There are green paper 
 blinds at the windows, rolled up and tied with 
 white tape. There is a tall clock in one corner; 
 a quaint china-closet in another. An old-fash- 
 ioned settle and three or four chairs to match, 
 with spindle backs, are ranged stiHy against the 
 wall. There is a rag-carpet on the floor. In the 
 center of the room is a large table, piled ivith 
 freshly zvashed and dried clothes. By the table 
 stands a huge basket, ready to receive the clothes 
 when they shall be " damped down " for ironing. 
 
 {Curtain rises upon Hannah Brown, engaged 
 in sprinkling the clothes. She is fresh, yonng, 
 buxom, with a fair, brilliant skin, and with an 
 abundant suit of dark red hair.) 
 
8 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Hannah (seeing a young zvonian cross the 
 grass plot in rear and mount the porch) — Well! 
 Well ! — and whatever brings you so early of this 
 fine day? 
 
 Ellen (ente?'ing and removing her sun-bonnet. 
 She is prettier than Hannah, and her hair is 
 yellow.) — Why, Mr. and Mrs. Eichberger are 
 gone to town for the day, and she said I might 
 come over and visit with you, see'n' as I was a 
 stranger and might feel lonesome. 
 
 Hannah — Anybody might easy know you 
 was a stranger to hear you say Mr. and Mrs. 
 Eichberger. We say Abraham and Katherine 
 and Henry and Mary 'round here. 
 
 Ellen — Yes, I know you do, — but it seems 
 sort o' strange to me as yet, — but I guess I'll 
 get used to it. 
 
 Hannah — You come in just good to take a 
 hand with these clothes. 
 
 Ellen — Yes; that's nice, aint it? (Begin- 
 ning to sprinkle and fold.) 
 
 Hannah — Now look-ee-here ! Don't put 
 quite so much water on that, — it makes it too 
 stiff to iron good, — and fold it smooth, like this 
 (taking garment from Ellens hands and demon- 
 strating) . 
 
 Ellen (good-naturedly) — Aint you partick'- 
 lar ! — My ! — 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 9 
 
 Hannah — It's easy to see you was brought 
 up by mother's folks. They was never partick'- 
 lar, Hke father's. 
 
 Ellen (a little indignantly) — I suit Mrs. 
 Eichberger. 
 
 Hannah — Yes, I guess, — but she don't 
 have things, anyhow, Hke we have 'em. 
 
 Ellen — You do things all your own way 
 here, don't you? 
 
 Hannah — Yes; since Mother Gast died. 
 
 Ellen — Why, where's Katherine ? 
 
 Hannah — She's keeping house for her 
 brother-in-law, in town, since he lost his wife — 
 taking care of the little baby she left. 
 
 Ellen — Is that so ? Well ! Well ! I wonder 
 how she likes that sort o' thing. You used to 
 write me about how gay she was, and how fine 
 she dressed, and the beaux she had, and how she 
 went hither and yon among the fashionables. 
 My! My! — 
 
 Hannah — Yes ; that was when I used to take 
 more interest in such things than I do now. But 
 don't you know that Katherine's a New Men- 
 neest ? 
 
 Ellen — Katherine a New Menneest ? Good- 
 ness gracious ! Since when ? 
 
 Hannah — Well ! it's goin' on to pretty near 
 a year now, I guess. You see, when Christian 
 
10 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 was took off SO sudden-like, and then soon after 
 Barbara died in childbed, — she began to feel 
 concern for her soul. {Ending with a pious 
 cadence in her tone.) 
 
 Ellen {looking at Hannah in surprise at this 
 tone, and then changing her expression at the 
 thought of Christian) — Yes! that was turrible 
 about Christian, wasn't it? Just how did it 
 happen? I never heard quite. 
 
 Hannah — Why, one day, when we was 
 thronged in the harvest field, he put his buggy- 
 horse, Jenny, a high-steppin' blooded thing, into 
 the reaper, — and she run away and killed him 
 and herself too. 
 
 Ellen {shuddering)— My \ My! My! How 
 turrible ! And Katherine took it hard ! No won- 
 der ! No wonder ! 
 
 Hannah — Yes; him and her was fond of 
 the world together, and she missed him some- 
 thing turrible. She shut herself up in her own 
 room and wouldn't eat enough to keep a fly alive. 
 Then, a week later, came word that Barbara 
 was dead, — sudden, you know, — in child-bed — 
 and before they could get to her. Barbara was 
 very worldly, too, you see! So that just finished 
 things up for Katherine. 
 
 Ellen — What did she do ? 
 
 Hannah — Well, just as I tell you, she didn't 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS u 
 
 come out of her room for clays, — and then one 
 evenin', when I was startin' to take somethin' 
 to eat lip to her as usual, lo and behold ye! I 
 sees her standin' at the foot o' the stairs dressed 
 in plain clothes. Well ! You could 'a' knocked 
 me down with a feather. I thought at first I'd 
 saw a ghost, — but it just come to me that she'd 
 gone and got some of her mother's clothes and 
 put 'em on, — she's just her mother's build. 
 And, — well ! she aint never been her old self 
 since. 
 
 Ellen — Is she good-lookin' — as ever ? 
 
 Hannah — Oh, yes ! She's good-lookin', — 
 too good-lookin', — even her plain clothes don't 
 spoil her good looks. 
 
 Ellen — And how about all her beaux ? . 
 
 Hannah — Well, of course they all dropped 
 off sharp, — when she give herself up, — you 
 know you can't marry out o' meetin' — 
 
 Ellen — " Give herself up ? " Oh, yes ! You 
 mean joined the church. But aint there no likely 
 young men in meetin'? 
 
 Hannah — Well — no-o — not to say young 
 men, — not many, leastways. John Runkel used 
 to be crazy over Katherine. I hear he's give 
 himself up, too — a'ready. It's easy to see what 
 he's after. Katherine never would look at him 
 as long as she was in the world. I wonder if 
 she'd take him now ? 
 
12 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Ellen (laughing heartily) — It makes me die 
 o'laughing to think of a beau in plain clothes. 
 
 Hannah — Well, you might do somethin' 
 better than laugh at such things. 
 
 Ellen (zvith surprise at Hannah's pious tone, 
 hut mockingly) — Why, Hannah! Are you goin' 
 to turn New Menneest? 
 
 Hannah {whose sharp eye has caught sight 
 of Abraham Cast mounting the porch, — in a 
 loud and distinct tone) — There's been stranger 
 things as has happened. 
 
 Abraham {stopping beside the door to remove 
 his boots, — and entering in his stocking feet and 
 shirt sleeves, with a Held hat on his head) — 
 Well, Hannah! Busy as a bee as usual. And 
 who's this we have here {turning henignantly 
 to Ellen) ? 
 
 {Abraham speaks with great deliberation, with 
 hesitation even, and in a tone with a minor ca- 
 dence, — a habit contracted from the effort neces- 
 sary to do extemporaneous preaching in a man 
 not naturally ready of speech.) 
 
 Hannah — Oh, that's my sister as was 
 brought up out West. She's hired out to Henry 
 Eichberger. 
 
 Abraham — Yes ! Yes ! I heard you talk of 
 her coming. {Shaking hands with Ellen) I 
 wish well to your soul {solemnly), Hannah. 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 13 
 
 Did I hear aright ? Are you being indeed drawn 
 to seek the narrow way? 
 
 Hannah {blushing, dropping her eyes, and 
 tremhling a little) — I — I aint worthy ! 
 
 Abraham — We are none of us worthy. We 
 are all only poor worms of the dust. But he 
 that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh 
 it shall be opened. But we must feel to give 
 ourselves up — to leave the broad way that lead- 
 eth to destruction, — and to walk humbly with 
 our God. {Giving Hannah a yearning and ad- 
 miring look, he passes into his bedroom ad- 
 joining. ) 
 
 {Hannah catches the look and blushes and 
 trembles again. There is silence for a few sec- 
 onds, at the Old of zvhich time Abraham's voice 
 is heard in the inflections of supplication, though 
 no words are distinguished.) 
 
 Ellen {in an azi^ed tone) — What's he doin' in 
 there? Gettin' ready for his next Sunday ser- 
 
 mon r 
 
 Hannah {zmth mild scorn) — Gettin' ready 
 for his next Sunday sermon ! They don't get 
 ready for no sermons. They just opens the Bible, 
 when the time comes to preach, and " the Lord 
 gives 'em in that hour what they shall say and 
 what they shall speak/' as the scriptur's has it. 
 
 Ellen — You seem to know a right good lot 
 about the scriptur's. 
 
14 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Hannah — Well, you see I have a chance to 
 learn a right good lot about 'em here. 
 
 {The tones of Abraham's voice grow louder, 
 but the words are still undistinguishable.) 
 
 Ellen — What is he a-doin', then? 
 
 Hannah — He's a-prayin! {drawing near to 
 the door of Abraham's room) — a-prayin' {her 
 face Hushing and then paling) — for me. 
 
 {With a look of subdued triumph in her eye, 
 but with an expression of humility on her face 
 and in her manner, she returns vigorously to the 
 sprinkling. Ellen is speechless. Ellen and Han- 
 nah work silently. Abraham's voice dies azvay. 
 Presently he appears at the door of his room, with 
 a fine, serene expression of countenance. He 
 has put on a coat, a broad-brimmed hat, and a 
 pair of shoes.) 
 
 Abraham — I'm going to market now, Han- 
 nah, with the fresh vegetables. I'll be back at 
 the usual time. {To Ellen) You must come 
 and see Hannah whenever you can get off. 
 {Goes out.) 
 
 Ellen — Does he stand in market ? 
 
 Hannah — No ; but the Eichbergers do. 
 They aint above that kind o' thing, — none of 
 'em. But Abraham has such good things. So 
 he has his private customers as knows him and 
 his things. 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 15 
 
 Ellen (suddenly) — Hannah, are you goin' to 
 join the New Menneests? 
 
 Hannah — Well — why not ? 
 
 Ellen (hotly) — I know / wouldn't join any 
 church that thinks my dead mother's soul is lost 
 forever. 
 
 Hannah — Ye can't help your convictions, 
 can ye? 
 
 Ellen — And you, brought up a Methodist ! 
 
 Hannah — Well, I aint a-sayin' yet what 
 I'll do, — but (piously) I'll follow my call. 
 
 (Steps are heard on the porch, and Jake Mets- 
 ger appears in the line of the open doorway, the 
 jamb of which conceals Ellen from his view.) 
 
 Hannah — Now look-ee-here, Jake Metzger ! 
 Don't you be comin' in here with your- dirty 
 boots on! You see the example Abraham sets 
 you! 
 
 Jake — Don't you holler afore you're kicked ! 
 I aint a-comin' in. I kin stop on the porch a 
 minute, can't I? 
 
 Hannah — Well, I don't know about that ! 
 I just scrubbed that porch, and your boots aint 
 a-goin' to help keep it scrubbed ! 
 
 (Jake, moving to the window and leaning in 
 on the sill, sees Ellen for the first time. He 
 colors and looks sheepish, hut recovers himself 
 and gives her an admiring glance. ) 
 
i6 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Jake — Will I dirty them clothes by lookin' 
 in at 'em? 
 
 Hannah — This is my sister Ellen, as was 
 brought up out West. She's come to live with 
 Eichbergers. 
 
 Jake (pushing his field hat farther back on his 
 head and ducking a little) — Never been in these 
 parts before? 
 
 Ellen — Yes ; I was born here, same as Han- 
 nah, — but I was little when I was took out West 
 by my aunt after mother died. 
 
 Jake — Aint never lived with New Menneests 
 afore ? 
 
 Ellen — No. 
 
 Jake — Well, you might live with worse 
 folks. They're not so bad when you git used to 
 'em, — that is, some of 'em. Some of 'em is 
 pretty hard nuts to crack. 
 
 Hannah — Aint you ashamed o' yourself, 
 Jake! 
 
 Jake — Now, you'll be goin' and tellin' Abra- 
 ham that, I'll swan ! You'll be a New Menneest 
 yourself before long. You'd be one now, — only 
 you don't like the idee o' them plain clothes. 
 That's what sticks in your craw. How would 
 you git all that red hair into a cap anyway ? 
 
 Hannah — See here, now, Jake ! You stop 
 a-jokin' about such things. 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 17 
 
 Jake — You think you're mistress here, don't 
 ye? That's what you're a-workin' fur. Aint it, 
 now ? They do say you're after Abraham, — 
 and that he's only a-waitin' fur ye to give your- 
 self up (teasingly) . 
 
 Hannah (mith defiant self-complacency) — 
 Yes, — they do talk that way, — and it wouldn't 
 be so strange! 
 
 Ellen — Oh, don't say such things ! 
 
 Jake (to Ellen) — I see you aint likely to join 
 the New Menneests, — any more 'an I am. 
 
 Ellen — Oh, no ! 
 
 Jake — Their religion's too slobberin' for me. 
 The men kisses one another when they meet. 
 
 Hannah — Yes! "Greets one another with a 
 holy kiss," as the scriptur's has it. 
 
 Jake (laughing) — I see myself greetin' 
 another man with a holy kiss ! Ha ! ha ! Now, 
 if they'd allow the men to kiss the women, I 
 might jine. 
 
 Ellen (mischievously) — Maybe you wouldn't 
 if you had to kiss all the women. 
 
 Jake (boldly) — If they was all as good-lookin' 
 as you, -^ I'd jine tomorrow ! 
 
 Ellen (catching her breath and blushing furi- 
 ously) — Oh! 
 
 Jake — But ye see if I'd jine, and wanted to 
 marry one o' the good-lookin' girls, I wouldn't 
 
i8 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 dare to tell her first. I'd have to go and speak to 
 the preacher, and then he'd talk to the brethren, 
 and then, when they was all agreed, the preacher 
 he'd go and ask the girl. 
 
 Ellen — Oh, my ! Is that the way they do ? 
 
 Jake — Yes ! Ketch me doin' my courtin' that 
 way! 
 
 Ellen — They certainly do have queer no- 
 tions. 
 
 Hannah — They can give you scriptur' fur 
 every thing they do. 
 
 Jake — Oh, they kin, kin they? Seems to 
 me you know lots about 'em for one as aint of 
 'em! Well, I must be gittin' out to the field 
 agin. Where's my snack, Hannah? 
 
 Hannah — It's on the out-kitchen table. 
 Mind now, — and don't let in the flies. 
 
 Jake (zmth parting glance of admiration at 
 Ellen) — See you agin soon! (Goes.) 
 
 Hannah — That Jake ! He's got more im- 
 pudence! He's a likely fellow, though! You'd 
 better set your cap for him. He's savin' money, 
 — and for all that he's got as fine a horse and 
 buggy as anybody around here. 
 
 Ellen — He aint likely to be a New Men- 
 neest, neither! 
 
 Hannah — Well, there's no tellin'! That 
 mockin' kind gits humbled by the Spirit some- 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 19 
 
 times easier 'an others. He's just like a son to 
 Abraham, too. And Abraham sets great store 
 by him. Most as much as he does by me. 
 
 Ellen — Hannah ! Would you marry an old 
 man like Abraham? 
 
 Hannah (indignantly) — How do you darest 
 to ask me such a question, and I aint give myself 
 up yet? 
 
 Ellen — He might treat you like Mr. Eich- 
 berger treats his wife. 
 
 Hannah (surprised) — And how's that? 
 
 Ellen — Why, she never dares to set down 
 to the table with him. She makes me eat with 
 him, and she goes off by herself until we're done. 
 Now, aint that awful ! What's the reason, do you 
 think? 
 
 Hannah — Oh, that's what you mean ! Why, 
 she's been turned out o' meetin'. 
 
 Ellen — Turned out o' meetin' ! Well, what's 
 that got to do with it? 
 
 Hannah (solemnly) — The scriptur's says, 
 " With such an one, no not to eat." 
 
 Ellen — My ! My ! Does the scriptur's say 
 that? There's a lot in 'em that / don't know 
 anything about. 
 
 Hannah — You'd better learn a little more. 
 
 Ellen — My ! My ! And his own wife, too ! 
 — and can't eat at the same table with him ! But 
 she sleeps with him. 
 
20 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Hannah (sententiously) — The scriptur's 
 don't say nothin' agin that. (With a glance at 
 the clock) My! I must go and gather my vege- 
 tables for dinner (goes out by porch door). 
 
 (As soon as she is out of sight Jake reappears 
 at the zvindozv zvith a great piece of pie in his 
 hand. ) 
 
 Jake (to Ellen) — Don't you want some o' this 
 pie? It's good! Come out into the out-kitchen 
 and I'll give ye some ; I'd think you'd be hungry. 
 Hannah makes the best pies ! But ketch me 
 tellin' her! Kin you make as good pies as Han- 
 nah? 
 
 Ellen (humbly) — I guess Hannah wouldn't 
 think so! 
 
 Jake — I bet you kin. I'm comin' over to 
 Eichberger's to taste your pies some day. 
 
 Ellen (cordially) — Yes, do! 
 
 (Hannah's voice is heard outside.) 
 
 Hannah — Aint you gone to field yet, Jake 
 Metzger ? 
 
 Jake — O Lord! There she is! I'd ruther 
 you wouldn't make quite such good pies, if you 
 had to be like Hannah to do it (goes). 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 Scene — A spacious, richly-furnished room, 
 half sitting-room, half library, irv the house of 
 James Herron. The color scheme is dull green 
 lightened zvith yellozv. There is a large alcove 
 with skylight in rear center, lined zvith book- 
 shelves filled zvith books. In the center of the 
 alcove stand a gentleman s table, desk, and turn- 
 stile chair: There are curtains to the alcove, 
 zvhich can be drazun to screen it entirely from the 
 rest of the room. There is a large, richly-draped 
 zvindozv on either side of the alcove. There is a 
 door at either end of the room leading to other 
 parts of the house. There is an open fireplace 
 left end front, in zvhich a fire is cheerfully burn- 
 ing. The carpet is thick and soft. Near each 
 end of room stands a large library table strezvn 
 zvith books and pamphlets. In the center front, 
 opposite the alcove, stands a quaint but elaborate 
 sezmng-table, and, by it, a rather luxurious sezif- 
 ing-chair. Scattered about the room are a num- 
 ber of large library chairs, richly upholstered in 
 green leather. 
 
 (Curtain rises upon Katherine Cast seated at 
 sezving-tqble zvith a piece of zjvork in her hands. 
 She zvears a dove-gray cashmere gown. Her 
 apron is of the same material, a shade paler. 
 Her kerchief is of soft white muslin, simply 
 
22 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 hemmed. Her abundant bright brown hair is 
 coiled very closely under her cap, which is not 
 tied under the chin but has little rounded floating 
 Olds, falling away from her cheeks on either side 
 of her throat.) 
 
 {James Heron enters from right.) 
 
 Katherine {without rising, looking a little 
 startled, says quietly, however, in a manner sug- 
 gesting constant restraint upon self) — I — I 
 thought you had gone out. 
 
 James {without looking at her, and going di- 
 rectly into the alcove) — No, I have some work 
 to do that I can do better here than at the office. 
 {Seats himself where he can command a side 
 view of Katherine' s face. ) 
 
 Katherine {starting up) — Let me get your 
 study-lamp for you. 
 
 James— \ No, no! Sit down, Fll ring for 
 Susan. {Rises, rings, goes to shelves, takes down 
 a book or two, seats himself at desk.) 
 
 Katherine {without looking at James) — 
 Don't you think you're working a little too much 
 lately, — all day and in the evening too ? 
 
 James — It's only temporary. I'm trying to 
 get my affairs fixed up with a view to getting out 
 of this sleepy-hollow of a town as soon as pos- 
 sible. {Knock at door, enter Susan.) Susan, 
 bring my study-lamp. {Susan goes out.) Of 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 23 
 
 course you must not speak of this, even to Father 
 Gast, — but I'm going into business with a live 
 fellow in San Francisco, — promoting, — with a 
 chance to make millions. 
 
 Katherine (aghast) — San Francisco! 
 
 James — Yes. Let me see — this is the 
 first of December; I expect to be out of this 
 by the first of March, — maybe sooner. 
 
 Katherine — And you'll take little James? 
 
 James — Why, of course ! What did you ex- 
 pect me to do with him? 
 
 Katherine — Oh, how can I give him up? 
 
 James — You needn't, — you can go with him, 
 
 — us. (A knock. Enter Susan with lamp, which 
 she places on alcove table.) 
 
 Susan {to Katherine) — There's a lady to see 
 you. Miss. She says she's a sister in the Lord, 
 
 — the widow Runkel! She's settin' in the hall. 
 I as't her into the parlor, but she wouldn't go in. 
 Said somethin' about not givin' countenance to 
 the pride o' life. 
 
 Katherine {with agitation, hut with the same 
 careful restraint of manner) — Tell her — but 
 no, wait ! — what shall I do? 
 
 James — Don't you want to see her ? Tell her 
 you're not at home, or engaged, or something. 
 She's a meddlesome old thing. Used to come 
 here often bothering Barbara. 
 
24 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Katherine — O James ! — a member ! — and 
 a preacher's widow. No, no! I can't do 
 that. 
 
 James — Well! What's the trouble? Don't 
 you want to go down? 
 
 Katherine — I can't receive her in the hall 
 (with a feeble smile) — nor ask her into the 
 drawing-room, after what she said to Susan. 
 
 James — Well ! bring her up here. I'll get 
 out for a while. 
 
 Katherine — Oh, no, James! I don't want 
 to drive you out. Don't go, — please stay. 
 
 James — And meet her? Not any, thank 
 you! 
 
 Katherine (pale and nervous) — O James! 
 I — I — I don't want to see her — alone! 
 
 James — Well, then, if you don't mind, I'll 
 draw the curtains and stay in here. She needn't 
 know. I hope to heaven she won't stay long. 
 
 Katherine (comforted, and zvith a little flash 
 of natural lightness) — There's no telling! 
 
 James — Tell her to come up, Susan (draw- 
 ing the curtains). 
 
 (Susan goes out and returns, showing in 
 Martha Runkel, who removes her Shaker-like 
 slat -bonnet as she enters. Katherine rises, and 
 she and Martha kiss each other solemnly. They 
 sit down, Katherine pale and constrained.) 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 25 
 
 Martha — I trust that you are in the enjoy- 
 ment of the peace that passeth all understanding. 
 (Katherine lifts a pair of sad eyes to Martha's 
 face, — drops them again and says nothing.) 
 I fear you find it hard not to hunger after the 
 flesh pots of Egypt when you live in the midst of 
 so much lust of the eye and pride of life. 
 
 Katherine — I — I — don't think I notice 
 it — now. 
 
 Martha — That is well, dear young sister. 
 It is our calling to be in the world but not of it, 
 — to use these things as if we possessed them 
 not. 
 
 Katherine — Yes ! I — I — try to feel so. 
 
 Martha — My mind has been much exercised, 
 over your being here just now, — while you're 
 so new to the narrow way. I spoke to Abraham 
 about it, — and he said he could not feel to take 
 you away from the child, and that he was trusting 
 to our Heavenly Father to keep you meek and 
 lowly in heart. 
 
 Katherine — Dear father ! 
 
 Martha — Then I said to him, " Why not 
 have her- bring the child home for a while ? " 
 
 Katherine {with spirit) — You forget that it 
 is James' child. 
 
 Martha — Yes, that's what Abraham said. 
 But I answered him, " The scripture says : 
 
26 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 * Touch not the unclean thing.' ' Come out from 
 among them and be ye separate/ saith the Lord. 
 
 * Ye shall not tempt the Lord thy God.' " 
 
 Katherine (agitated) — I try to remember 
 these things. 
 
 Martha — I am the bearer of a message to 
 you from the meeting. 
 
 Katherine — From the meeting? 
 
 Martha — Yes ! You are summoned home for 
 a short season, to consider a matter to be laid 
 before the brethren concerning you. 
 
 Katherine (pale and trembling) — To con- 
 sider a matter to be laid before the brethren? 
 
 Martha — Not a matter of rebuke or chas- 
 tening, my dear sister, — a matter concerning 
 your walk in the flesh. 
 
 Katherine — The church disapproves of my 
 living here? 
 
 Martha — Oh, no! Not that (looking very 
 earnestly at Katherine). Do you not know that 
 John has given himself up? 
 
 Katherine (in great surprise) — John! No 
 — no — I did not know it ! 
 
 Martha — Yes! It has pleased the Lord to 
 call my dear son from the broad way that leadeth 
 to destruction into the narrow way that leadeth 
 into life (zveeping and wiping her eyes). 
 
 Katherine — I — I am glad for you, — for 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 27 
 
 him. But — when am I to appear before the 
 brethren ? 
 
 Martha — On Wednesday, in your father's 
 house, at a special meeting. 
 
 Kati-ierine — That's day after tomorrow. 
 Then I can't take httle James along. It's too 
 sudden ; besides, I'd be afraid, this weather. But 
 I needn't stay? I can come right back? 
 
 Martha (coldly) — Yes, yes! Doubtless! 
 (Then sweetly, after a short silence) Beware, my 
 dear young sister, lest you make an idol unto 
 yourself of this child. (Another silence, during 
 zvhich Katherine clasps and unclasps her hands 
 in a frightened zvay.) 
 
 Katherine — Do you know what this matter 
 is concerning me ? 
 
 Martha — It ill becomes me to speak of that 
 which our holy church must first consider, — 
 but it is my earnest desire that you and John may 
 feel to walk together in the Lord. 
 
 Katherine (in great agitation) — Oh, no! 
 Not that — not that, — I do not wish to think 
 of marrying — now. I must stay with father, 
 and take ca:re of him in his age. 
 
 Martha (ivith a cold smile) — He'll not need 
 you later any more than he does now, from 
 present signs. Hannah Brown has given herself 
 up, and it is more than likely that she and Abra- 
 ham will feel to walk together in the Lord. 
 
28 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 (Katherine is dumb. Martha continues.) Poor 
 Barbara ! She was taken out of the midst of all 
 this vanity, before she had the least chance to 
 make her calling and election sure. You should 
 feel to thank the Lord, Katherine, that you have 
 been snatched as a brand from the burning. 
 
 Katherine {zmth flushing face) — Father says 
 we may always cherish the hope that Barbara 
 had made her peace with God. 
 
 Martha — Yes, that might be. She was not 
 anyhow of those that bow the knee to Baal, — 
 that follow after false prophets. And so she may 
 have found mercy with the Lord. But does not 
 her sudden taking off lead James to seek the 
 narrow way, lest he too be taken as a thief in the 
 night ? 
 
 Katherine — James doesn't — look at these 
 things as we do. 
 
 Martha — He is very rich in this world's 
 goods (looking around her). The wicked 
 spreadeth himself like a green bay tree, — but 
 it is not pleasing to the Lord. " Woe unto ye 
 lawyers," said Christ. You should warn James 
 to flee from the wrath to come. But I must be 
 going now (rising and taking Katherine by the 
 hand). My beloved young sister, we should feel 
 to walk close to our meek and lowly Savior, 
 and so endeavor to make our calling and election 
 sure. Let us serve the Lord while it is called 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 29 
 
 today, for we know not what the morrow may 
 bring forth (kisses Katherine solemnly and goes 
 out). 
 
 James (throzving open the curtain) — Thank 
 heaven! (Seats himself again and begins to 
 read, making notes. Katherine takes up her sew- 
 ing and sits dozvn ziith her back to James. 
 Presently James moves quietly up behind her, 
 and, taking the crozmi of her dainty cap betzveen 
 his thumb and Unger, lifts it off her head and 
 lays it on the sezmng-table. Katherine gives a 
 little frightened cry, and inz'oluntarily puts her 
 hands over her hair, then reaches for the cap to 
 put it on again.) 
 
 James (seimig her hand, says beseechingly) 
 
 — Don't put it on, — not yet at least. You are 
 so beautiful without it. Though you are beauti- 
 ful enough with it, heaven knows. 
 
 Katherine (using her hands to cover her 
 face nozu) — O James ! how can you talk so! 
 
 James — But this is not the reason why I 
 take it off, Katherine. It stands between you 
 and me. Oh (passionately), leave it off for- 
 ever ! 
 
 Katherine (rising and reaching for the cap) 
 
 — I dare not — I dare not. I need something 
 between you and me. 
 
 James (encouraged by this acknozjuledgment) 
 
 — Katherine. Let your hair down, — just once 
 
30 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 (coaxingly) , (Katherine, as if unable to resist 
 him, removes a simple comb from the close coil 
 of her hair and lets its rich masses fall about 
 her.) Shake it out. Let me! So! (Coming 
 nearer and taking the silky strands in his hands, 
 — then suddenly pressing them against his face 
 and wildly kissing them. Katherine, pale and 
 startled, snatches them from him and coils them 
 up quickly, thrusts in the comb, and puts on the 
 cap with trembling hands, — then seats herself 
 and takes up her sezving, in terrible agitation.) 
 
 James {in a hard voice) — Katherine, are you 
 going to let the church marry you to John Run- 
 kel? That's what they are all after, as you well 
 know. 
 
 Katherine — No, no, James, — you heard 
 me, — I do not wish to marry. 
 
 James (gloomily) — But they will easily per- 
 suade you that you do. 
 
 Katherine — I do not love John Runkel. 
 
 James — What's that got to do with what the 
 church thinks? 
 
 Katherine — The church will not compel me 
 to marry. It only forbids me to marry out of 
 meeting. 
 
 (There is silence, James looking gloomily at 
 the floor, Katherine sewing feverishly.) 
 
 James (suddenly) — Katherine, why don't you 
 wear that gown I gave you? 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 31 
 
 Katherine (ez'ask'cly)— It's — not made up 
 yet. 
 
 James — Why don't you make it up? Even 
 in this fashion you would look lovely in it. It 
 has just the tints of your hair in shadow, — your 
 beautiful hair, that you cover up with that en- 
 vious cap; 
 
 Katherine — You know I could never make 
 it up — like this. It's silk, and we're forbidden 
 to wear such things. 
 
 James — Go and get it, Katherine ; I want to 
 see it against your hair and skin. (Katherine 
 goes out door at left. James walks moodily up 
 and down. Katherine returns immediately with 
 the goods, and sits dozvn, smoothing it out ad- 
 miringly in her lap.) 
 
 Katherine — It's so pretty, James, — and I 
 thank you so much, — but you know {looking 
 up at him appealingly) I dare not wear it. 
 
 James — Give it to me! {He takes it, walks 
 quickly to the Hreplace, and thrusts it into the 
 flames. ) 
 
 Katherine — O James! James! {Then buries 
 her face in her arms on the table and breaks into 
 vio I en t sobbing.) 
 
 James {striding to her chair, throwing him- 
 self upon his knees, seizing her hands and pas- 
 sionately kissing them)—0 Katherine! Don't! 
 Don't! I'd rather burn off my right hand than 
 
32 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 hurt you so ! You love me, Katherine, — you 
 know you love me. What right have these 
 damned religionists to come between us ? Kather- 
 ine, throw it all off and come to me. If there is 
 a good God, who made us as we are. He loves 
 love better than religion. 
 
 Katherine — James, — you frighten me. I 
 dare not give up to my love for you. If I should, 
 all that old terror of the " wrath to come " would 
 seize me again. I can not face that, — I would 
 rather die now, with my peace made with God. 
 Oh ! Oh ! (Rising and putting up her hands as if 
 to ward him off.) 
 
 James (drawing nearer to her) — Katherine, 
 my love, there is no such thing as '' wrath to 
 come." Don't you see that if God is love there 
 cannot be any such thing? There is nothing but 
 love, Katherine, (drazmng nearer still, zvith glozu- 
 ing eyes and fervid tones) — nothing but love. 
 Prove it, Katherine! Come to me, my beloved 
 (holding out his arms) ! 
 
 (Katherine, raising her large, passionate eyes, 
 fixes them upon his glozving countenance, and, as 
 if fascinated, yields to his embrace. James 
 clasps her in his arms and fastens his lips upon 
 hers. Her head drops upon his shoidder, and, as 
 it does so, her little cap falls unheeded to the 
 floor.) 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
ACT THIRD 
 
 Scene — Same as first act, except that the fire- 
 place is open and a huge fire burning thereon, 
 and a landscape covered with snow shows 
 through the windows. 
 
 (Curtain rises upon Abraham Cast seated be- 
 fore the fire, zvith the open Bible upon a small 
 table at his side. Hannah Brown, in plain dress, 
 enters from left.) 
 
 Hannah {in bustling fashion) — I guess I'll 
 have to send for Ellen to help me. There'll be 
 lots to do, with all these folks for dinner and 
 Katherine so droopy. 
 
 Abraham — Where is Katherine ? 
 
 Hannah — She's in her room. She don't 
 look right. She aint got any life in her, seems 
 like. 
 
 Abraham — Yes, I noticed when she came 
 yesterday that she didn't look like herself. I 
 hope she aint going to be sick. I guess you 
 would better send for Ellen. Where's Jake? 
 
 Hannah {a little viciously) — Out in the out- 
 kitchen sleepin' over the almanac. Men aint 
 much use in winter. 
 
 Abraham — I'll call him. 
 
 Hannah — No, no. Let me. You mus'n't go 
 out in the cold that way without bein' wrapped 
 
 33 
 
34 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 ^U^^ — you'll git rheumatism agin. (She opens 
 the door part zuay and calls, Jake!) 
 
 Jake (outside) — What's up? 
 
 Hannah — Abraham wants ye. 
 
 (Jake enters.) 
 
 Abraham — Take the sleigh, Jake, and go 
 over quick for Ellen. Hannah '11 need her help 
 to get dinner. 
 
 (Jake gives Hannah a quizzical look and goes 
 out, zmth a pleased expression, on his errand.) 
 
 Abraham — Have all the friends come ? 
 
 Hannah — Yes. They're in the front room. 
 Shall I call 'em? 
 
 Abraham — No, not yet ; I must speak with 
 Katherine alone first. You call her, Hannah. 
 (JJannah goes out at left. Abraham walks rather 
 nervously up and down. Katherine enters. She 
 wears a gown of soft brozvn, with golden lights, 
 and an apron and kerchief of cream color. She 
 is very pale.) 
 
 Katherine — You sent for me, father? 
 
 Abraham — Yes, Katherine. I must speak 
 with you now, not as your earthly father, but as 
 the shepherd and bishop of your soul. 
 
 Katherine — Speak to me as both, father. 
 
 Abraham (too absorbed to heed Katherine' s 
 words) — John Runkel wishes you to walk be- 
 fore the Lord with him as his wife, Katherine, 
 and the church indorses his wish. 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 35 
 
 Katherine — But I do not love John Runkel, 
 father. 
 
 Abraham — I fear you speak of love in the 
 carnal sense, Katherine. When we enter upon 
 the narrow way we should put aside carnal 
 things. We should feel only the spiritual love. 
 
 Katherine — Father, did you feel only the 
 spiritual love for mother? 
 
 Abraham (Hushing a little and then growing 
 pale and sad) — Your mother and I — married 
 before we entered upon the narrow way. 
 
 Katherine — Did you marry each other for 
 love? 
 
 Abraham — I — we — we thought so. 
 
 Katherine — Did your love for each other 
 change — after you joined the church ? 
 
 Abraham (in simple honesty) — I have never 
 thought of that. I — I — do not think it did, — 
 but of course it became sanctified. 
 
 Katherine — But, father, suppose there had 
 been no love to begin with, — could your mar- 
 riage have become sanctified? 
 
 Abraham — The spiritual love sanctifies all 
 things. The holy Paul says, — 
 
 Katherine (desperately) — But, father, sup- 
 pose — suppose I love another. 
 
 Abraham — In the church, Katherine 
 (sternly) ? 
 
36 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Katherine (trembling) — No, father. 
 
 Abraham — Then, Katherine, as the bishop 
 of your soul, I charge you marry John Runkel! 
 — flee from fleshly lust ! — crucify your carnal 
 mind ! The carnal mind is enmity against God. 
 Save your soul from the wrath to come ! Follow 
 the guidance of our holy church and the peace 
 of God that passeth all understanding shall come 
 upon you. 
 
 Katherine (desperately) — The peace of 
 God ! The peace of God ! ( Then, as if remem- 
 bering herself.) Father, I will do as you, — as 
 the church directs. 
 
 Abraham — May the blessing of our Heavenly 
 Father be upon you, my child! And now it is 
 time to call the friends together. (Opening door 
 at left which leads to a corridor, and then open- 
 ing a second door upon this corridor leading to 
 the parlor, Abraham says) Come, friends! (and 
 re-enters, followed by Henry Eichberger, Levi 
 Schwartz, and John Runkel. These he takes 
 each solemnly by the hand and kisses him upon 
 the month, saying) Greeting in the Lord! (after 
 which they each shake hands awkwardly with 
 Katherine, saying) I wish well to your soul. (In 
 the midst of this greeting Hannah enters, fol- 
 lowed by Mary Eichberger. The men seat them- 
 selves on one side of the room near Abraham^ 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 37 
 
 who places himself again at the small fable. The 
 women range themselves upon the settee against 
 the other zvall. There is a short period of silent 
 prayer, in zvhich all join zmth hozved heads.) 
 
 Abraham — We are gathered together, dearly 
 beloved, to take counsel one with another, as 
 becomes brethren who love the Lord, as to our 
 walk with God before the world (a short silence). 
 We are commanded to let our light so shine be- 
 fore men that they, seeing our good works, may 
 glorify our Father which is in heaven {another 
 short pause). We will first consider the ex- 
 communication of our sister, Mary Eichberger. 
 Our holy church is becoming a thing of re- 
 proach to the world because of this. It is, noised 
 about, and has even crept into the church itself, 
 to question whether our sister has been given a 
 just opportunity to plead her cause, — to ques- 
 tion whether the judgment against her has been 
 a righteous judgment. As deacon, I will ask 
 our brother Levi Schwartz to give his testi- 
 mony as to this judgment. 
 
 Levi , (7C'/V/i set lips and stern face) — The 
 judgment was a righteous judgment. Our sister, 
 in defiance of her husband, who is her head in 
 Christ, in the vain pride of life, insisted upon 
 having Venetian blinds upon the outside of her 
 house. She has doubly sinned. She has been 
 
38 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 guilty of the lust of the eye and of disobedience 
 to her husband. 
 
 Abraham — Mary, what have you to say to 
 this? 
 
 Mary {lifting her bowed head and looking 
 with gathering courage at her husband's face) — 
 I feel — I have always felt that it is an un- 
 righteous judgment. 
 
 Abraham (gently) — Do you desire to re- 
 turn to the fold of the Lord ? 
 
 Mary (earnestly) — I do. 
 
 Abraham — Do you sincerely repent of your 
 pride of life ? 
 
 Mary — I have none to repent of, — I have 
 never felt or shown any pride of life. 
 
 Abraham (in great surprise) — Your husband 
 testified to the church that you were froward 
 through pride of life. 
 
 Mary — He knew, — (correcting herself) he 
 knows, — that it was not that. 
 
 Abraham — Why did you wish the new- 
 fangled shutters on your house? 
 
 Mary — To make my work easier by letting in 
 the air and keeping out the flies. 
 
 Abraham — And Henry knew this ? 
 
 Mary — Ask him. 
 
 Abraham (avoiding looking at Henry) — And 
 why did you not tell this to the church? 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 39 
 
 Mary — I had no chance. 
 Levi — The holy Paul enjoins upon women 
 to keep silence in the church, — to let their hus- 
 bands speak for them. 
 
 Abraham — Did Henry speak falsely for you ? 
 Mary — Ask him. 
 
 Abraham {looking squarely at Henry for the 
 first time) — Henry, search your own heart and 
 answer. 
 
 Levi {interrupting) — Henry, rem.ember what 
 the holy Paul says, " The husband should rule 
 well his own household, — the husband is the 
 head of the wife." 
 
 Henry {his features working convulsively) — 
 It was — it was — the love of money — in me, 
 — the root of all evil, — in me, and not the "pride 
 of life in Mary. 
 
 Abraham {his face quivering with emotion, 
 a few large tears falling dozvn his cheeks) — And 
 what brought you to know this, Henry ? 
 
 Henry {his countenance still zvorking pa- 
 thetically) — Mary's love and patience. 
 
 Abraham — And you will acknowledge this 
 publicly, -^ to the church? 
 
 Henry {in deep emotion) — Yes, I will. 
 
 {Mary, with a look of grateful affection at 
 Henry, drops her head again.) 
 
 Abraham — Let us silently praise God {a 
 short silence). 
 
40 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Abraham — Our brother, John Rnnkel, a 
 newly saved brand from the burning, would 
 speak before these friends his wish to walk be- 
 fore the Lord with my daughter Katherine as 
 his wife. 
 
 John (rising, pale and agitated, and in zvorldly 
 speech) — I wish to marry Katherine Gast. 
 
 Abraham — The question has been considered 
 and approved by the church. Katherine, what is 
 your wish ? 
 
 Katherine {who has been sitting imth bozved 
 head, gazing fixedly upon her hands in her lap, 
 seemingly hearing nothing, rouses herself zvith 
 a start, and, with wide open, apparently unsee- 
 ing eyes, says, monotonously) — I will marry 
 John in the late spring. {Then shudders as if 
 with cold and resumes her former pose.) 
 
 {The blood rushes over Johns face, and he 
 gives her a glowing look of gratitude and love, 
 — then remembers himself and resumes his 
 solemn attitude and expression.) 
 
 Abraham — There is another matter which 
 has been considered and indorsed by the church. 
 This is my desire to walk before the Lord with 
 Hannah Brown as my wife. Hannah, is this 
 your wish? 
 
 Hannah (with a mixture of pride and hu- 
 mility) — This is my wish. 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 4t 
 
 Abraham — Let us again silently praise the 
 Lord. 
 
 (All sit for a few seconds with bowed heads, 
 then Abraham rises, saying) I guess we men 
 must leave this room to the women, now. They 
 don't like us around while they're at work 
 {leads the way to the parlor). 
 
 Mary {looking anxiously at Katherine) — 
 You don't look well, Katherine. What ails you, 
 child? 
 
 {Katherine, her nerves giving way, bursts 
 into an agony of sobbing. Mary puts her arms 
 about her in motherly fashion.) 
 
 Mary — Come, dear, let me put you to bed. 
 You're not fit to be up {leads her out). 
 
 {There is a jingling of sleigh-bells.) 
 
 Hannah {going to the zmtidow) — There they 
 are. 
 
 Ellen {entering) — Well, here I am. My, but 
 it's cold. This fire feels good. 
 
 Hannah {busily) — Come, now, hurry-burry! 
 You set the table while I go into the kitchen. 
 I'll help you get the table out first. You know 
 where everything is. {They set the large table 
 in the center of the floor and put up the drop 
 leaves. Hannah goes out. Ellen opens a closet 
 and takes out a linen cloth, ivhich she spreads on 
 the fable.) My, Hannah will have a lot of nice 
 
42 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 linen when she marries Abraham! (Then she 
 proceeds to get out dishes and place them on the 
 table.) And aint this china nice? {The door 
 opens very quietly and Jake peeps in.) 
 
 Jake — Kin I come in ? 
 
 Ellen (blushing) — Why, yes. What's to 
 hinder? 
 
 Jake — You're purtier than ever today. 
 
 Ellen (bliss fully) — Am I? 
 
 Jake — Yes, you are. I want to hug you 
 (passionately). 
 
 Ellen — O Jake ! 
 
 Jake (mocking her playfully) — What's to 
 hinder (coming closer) ? 
 
 Ellen (backing away from him) — Some- 
 body might come in. 
 
 Jake — Well, what if they do? 
 
 Ellen — O Jake (lifting a glovuing face to 
 his) ! 
 
 Jake — There's a kind o' general marryin' 
 and given' in marriage goin' on today, — what's 
 wrong with you and me hitchin' up for life (put- 
 ting his arms around her) ? 
 
 Ellen (unth spirit) — I won't come here to 
 live with Hannah ! 
 
 Jake (gleefidly) — That's my girl! Did you 
 think I would ask it of ye? No-sir-ee! Abra- 
 ham '11 be glad to let us have the tenant house 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 43 
 
 over by the brook. IVe got a nice little pile laid 
 by and we 1 fix it up as cosey as a bird's „e^ 
 Wont that be to your likin'? 
 
 Ellen -Oh, you dear Jake {letting him kiss 
 
 herashe^^ai). But you must go no^t. You're 
 
 scold" "' ""'"' '''^ '^^"^' ^^^ Hannah 'II 
 
 Jake {laughing)- She won't have many more 
 
 and goes out). 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
t-.ofC. 
 
ACT FOURTH 
 
 Scene — James Herron's study. It is early 
 evening. 
 
 (Enter Katherine in out-door garb, follozued 
 by Susan.) 
 
 Susan — My, but it's good to see you agin, 
 Miss Katherine! Come to say good-bye to the 
 baby? Mr. Herron's goin' day after tomorrow, 
 and Jane, she's goin' too. She loves that baby so 
 she has to go with it, and Mr. Herron — he's 
 mighty glad to take her. And Mr. Herron's 
 partner, Mr. Reigart, is goin' to move right in. 
 They've bought the place, furniture and all. And 
 I'm goin' to live with 'em. But here I am 
 a-talkin' on as if you'd been to the other side 
 of the world. And indeed. Miss Katherine, you 
 might 'a' been dead for the way we missed you 
 ever since you went away, — little James and all. 
 But, my! let me take your things, and set you 
 down close to the fire. It's cold out, aint it? 
 
 Katherine (pale and shivering) — Yes, it's 
 very cold out. I am quite chilled with my ride. 
 Thank you, Susan. How's little James? 
 
 Susan — Oh, he's fine. Miss. He's asleep, 
 though. Jane puts him to bed early. Will you 
 go up and look at him a little? 
 
 45 
 
46 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Katherine — No, Susan, not yet. I am too 
 cold. I might chill him by going near him. Til 
 — I'll wait till morning. 
 
 Susan — I'll take your things right up to 
 your room, then, and you just sit down close to 
 the fire. You don't seem well, Miss Katherine. 
 It goes hard with you to part with the baby fur 
 good, don't it? But they say you're goin' to 
 marry Mr. Runkel, and then maybe you'll have a 
 baby of your own some day. Sit down here 
 (moving a chair to the fire), and I'll make more 
 light. 
 
 Katherine (sitting dozvn) — No, no, Susan, 
 thank you. I don't want any more light. I don't 
 even want this. Put it out, please. The fire- 
 light is enough. I am thoroughly chilled, — but 
 I'll soon be warm by this cheerful blaze. 
 
 Susan — Yes, Miss Katherine. Then I'll get 
 you a little supper quick. Will you have it up 
 here? 
 
 Katherine — No, Susan, I don't want any 
 supper, not the least thing. I ate something 
 before I started. I have everything I want. I'll 
 just rest here until I get thoroughly warmed, and 
 then I'll go to bed. Good-night, Susan. 
 
 Susan (turning out the light) — Good-night, 
 Miss Katherine. (Goes out.) 
 
 (Katherine remains seated in the deep chair 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 47 
 
 before the bright Hre, zMch shines fidt in her 
 face. She is very pale. She shivers still. Pres- 
 ently she throzvs up her arms zmth a little cry, 
 and, rising, begins to zvalk the floor. Steps are 
 heard outside. She quickly resumes her seat, 
 zvith her back tozvard the door upon corridor. 
 James enters. The room scans dark to him after 
 the brightly lighted staircase. He strikes a 
 match on his shoe-sole, zvhich goes out. He 
 approaches the fire. He sees Katherine.) 
 
 James — Katherine ! 
 
 Katherine {rises, staggers a little, holding by 
 the chair. She is paler than before. She speaks 
 in little gasps) — Yes, James, it is I. I have 
 come to say good-bye — to the baby. 
 
 James (gloomily) — And to me — good-bye 
 — forever. 
 
 Katherine (imploringly) — Don't, James, it 
 breaks my heart. (Then suddenly and zjuildly) 
 
 James, what shall I do ! — what shall I do ! 
 (Falling on her knees, boziing her head upon 
 her hands, and rocking her body to and fro.) 
 
 James (startled) — What do you mean, Kath- 
 erine, what do you mean? 
 
 Katherine (in the same attitude) — How can 
 
 1 tell you ! How can I tell you ! 
 
 James (eagerly) — You do not wish to marry 
 John Runkel? 
 
48 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 Katherine (lifting tip her face, zvith the look 
 of death upon it) — I dare not marry John 
 Runkel. 
 
 James (helping her to her feet) — Katherine, 
 Katherine, explain yourself. (A light breaking 
 into his face) Explain yourself, Katherine. 
 
 Katherine (looking him full in the face with 
 agonised eyes) — I — I — am going to have a 
 child, — your child, James (drawing azvay from 
 him and drooping her head). 
 
 James — You ! — you ! — a child ! my child ! 
 Thank God! Katherine, — thank God! (Tak- 
 ing her in his arms and sobbing in passionate 
 joy.) 
 
 Katherine (lifts her face to his with deep 
 surprise in her expression, zuhich changes to 
 a sort of terror) — O James ! How can you say 
 Thank God! 
 
 James (holding her close) — Because this is 
 the only thing that would save you — from — 
 your church, — and give you — to me — Kath- 
 erine, — my love ! my love ! 
 
 Katherine — But, O James ! Think of our 
 sin ! Think of the just anger of God against us ! 
 Against me in particular, — who have done 
 despite to His Holy Name, — who have crucified 
 Him afresh. 
 
 James — We have not sinned, Katherine. We 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 49 
 
 have only loved, — and if God is love, He loves 
 our love. Why, Katherine {holding her off and 
 looking into her face with passionate tender- 
 ness), do you really believe that a few words of 
 a priest, or a legal sanction, can make a thing 
 right that is in itself wrong? No, Katherine, it is 
 eternally right that the man and woman who love 
 each other should come together in love. And no 
 priest or law can make this any more right, nor 
 can any lack of religious or legal sanction make 
 it wrong. 
 
 Katherine {comforted into a degree of calm 
 in spite of herself) — When you say these things, 
 James, I can not answer. I feel that you are 
 right somehow, — but if you are, how is, it about 
 all that I have been taught, — about the way I 
 feel — so wicked — so vile in the sight of God ? 
 
 James — The things we have been taught have 
 a deep hold upon us, Katherine, — until we be- 
 gin to think for ourselves. When we do this 
 we stand up and look the universe in the face, 
 and are not afraid. 
 
 Katherine — Oh, but James, I am afraid ! — 
 I am afraid! I can never — never feel as you 
 do. And yet — if you did not feel as you do, — 
 what would become of me? I should be an out- 
 cast and a word of reproach. 
 
 James — You are not going to be an outcast 
 
50 THE NEW LIGHTS 
 
 and a word of reproach, Katherine. You are 
 going to be my dear wife, and we are going far 
 away from the influences that have prevented you 
 from thinking for yourself, — going where you 
 will forget these narrow ideas — where you will 
 discard this dress — where you will have a chance 
 to be your own beautiful self in freedom and in 
 love. 
 
 Katherine — O James, dear ! I can never 
 discard this dress, — don't think that I will, — 
 I must wear it, — wear it always in penance — 
 to keep me humble — to help me remember my 
 sin — my desertion of my Savior. 
 
 James — You repeat these stock-in-trade ex- 
 pressions of religion, my dear Katherine, as some 
 lesson that you have learned. But you will learn 
 a new lesson, — a lesson that has in it no wrath 
 or punishment or penance, or any such thing, — 
 nothing but love. There is no such thing as sin, 
 Katherine, — there is only ignorance. And ig- 
 norance shall be dissipated as we grow in knowl- 
 edge through experience. You know Jesus, your 
 Savior, as you call Him, said, " Ye shall know 
 the truth and the truth shall make you free." 
 I believe those words, Katherine. They hold all 
 of my religion. We will live this religion, — you 
 and I. We will acknowledge our ignorance. We 
 will seek to gain knowledge, — the knowledge 
 
THE NEW LIGHTS 51 
 
 of the truth. And, in doing this, we shall find 
 the universe on our side. And, as the truth sets 
 us free, we shall realize more and more that there 
 is no wrath, no punishment, no penance, — 
 nothing but love — love — love! {Holding 
 Katherine's face betzveen his hands and kissing 
 her zvith each zuord, as she gazes into his eyes 
 in adoring affection, her ozvn pale and stricken 
 countenance seemingly lighted by the glow from 
 his.) 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
MOV ? 
 
LIBRAMY ur