Elizabeth-Town gazette. [volume] (Elizabeth-Town, N.J.) 1818-1821, 1820-08-22


voice of his father; and nature stirring
strongly within his heart towards him o.
whose blood he was framed, he lifted uE
his sullied face from the indicating bosom
and gently stealing himself away from the
bed, rushed into his parents arms, and
lay there delivered up 10 all the perfect
love of childhood's forgiying heart. All
his fathers frowns we're forgotten--his
lsnllen fooks--his stern words-his mena.
ces, that had so often struck terror to his
wandering soul--his indifTerence--.his
scorp, and his cruelty. He remembered
only his smiles. and The gentlest sounds Of
bis voices and happy now, as ia heaven
TO feel himself no more neglected or spurn.
led, but folded, as in other sweetest days
unto the yearning bosom of his own KIDD
father, The child could bear to turn his
eyes from that blessed embrace, towards
the dead old man whom, an hour ago, he
had looked on as his only guardian on earth
besides God, and whose grey hairs he had,
even as an orphan, twined round bis very
heart. 81 do not ask thee, Jamie, 10
forget thy grandfather--no, We too will
often speak Of him, sitting together by the
ineie, or on the hiliside,--but beseech
thee not to let all thy love be buried with
him in the grave--but to keep all thai
thou canst for thy wretched father"
Signs, sobs, tears, kisses, and embraces,
we're all The loving child's reply. A deep
and divine joy had been restored to him,
over whose loss often had his pioing child
hood wept. The beauty of bis fathers
face revised-It smiled graciously upoi,
him, as it did of old, when he was wont TO
totter after him 10 the sheepfold, and TO
pull primroses beneath bis loving eye,
from the messy banks Of the little. spark
ling burn I! Scarcely could the child be-
lieve in such blessed change. But the
kisses fell fast on his brow,--and when he
thought that the accompanying tears were
shed by his own father, for the unkind-
ness sometimes shown TO his child, he
could not contain those silent seIfupbraid-
ings, but with thicker sobs blessed him by
that awful name, aud promised TO love
him beyond even him who was now lying
dead before their eyes. I will walk a.
long with the funerai--and see my grand
father buried, 10 our own burial-place
near where the Tent stands at The Sacra-
les, | will walk. my father, BY
your side-and hold one of the strings Of
the coifiu-and if you will only promise
to love me forever as you now do, and used
always to DO long ago, will strive To-
think Of my grandfather without weeping
shedding one single tear:o
and here the child, unaware of the full
tenderness of his own sinless heart, burst
out into an uncomfortable flood of grief.
The mother, happy 10 her sore affection,
to see her darling boy again taken SO low
ingly TO her husbands heart, looked to-
wards them with faint smile, and then,
with beaming countensnce, towards the
expired saint; for she felt that bis dying
words had restored the satellites of nature
to her earthly dwelling. With gentle
hand, she beckoned the Pastor and myself
to follow her--and conducted us away
from the death-bed, into little parlour,
10 which burned cheerful fire, aud
small table was spread with cloth whittier
than the snow" You will stay 10 our
cottage all highland we shall all meet
together again before the hour Of rest I"
aud so saying, she calmly Withdrew.
There was no disorder, or disarray in
the room 10 which we now sat. Though
sickness had been 10 the house, no domes-
tic duties had been neglected. 10 this
room the Patriarch had, every evening
for 40 years. said family prayers-and the
dust had not been allowed TO gather there,
though sickness had kept him from the
quiet nook 10 which he had SO long de-
lighted. The servant, with sorrowful
but composed features, brought to us our
simple meal, which the Pastor blessed,
not without pathetic slIusion TO him who
had been remoyed--and another more
still, to them who survived him.
That simple but mos. fervent aspiration
seemed to breathe an air of comfort through
the house that was desolate but deep
yet reigned over the hush, and
the inside of the cottage. now that its an
cient honour was gone. felt forIorn as its
outside would have done, had the syca-
more that gave it shade and shelter, been
felled TO the earth.
We had sat by ourselves for about two
hours, when the matron again appeared /;
not as when We had first seen her, wearied,
worn out, aud careless of herself, but calm
in her demeanor, and with her raimeni
changed, serene and beautiful 10 the com
posure Of her faith. With soft voice
she asked lis to come with her again to the
room where her father lay and thither
we followed her IN silence.
The body Of the old man had been laid
out by the same loving hands that had SC
tenderIy ministered to all his wants and
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