The freeman. (Fremont [Ohio]) 1849-1850, 1850-04-20
From Headley's Parlor Book for 1850.
THY WILL BE- DONE.
81 n. s. ARTHVR

I
with God are the issues of life,' replied tht
physician, solemnly.
Don't-don't speak to me in that way, Doc
tor said the agonized father. 4 say my
child must not die She is more to me thar
all possess. Call in further aid. Cousu
with Doctors l., and B, and s.
There is, there mast be power in medicine tt
save her
4 will not deceive you, Mr. Librand.
dare moi. Your daughter is beyond the
reach of human skill There are signs of ap
preaching mortality that no physician can mis-
| take
4 will not believe it, Doctor returned the
unhappy father passionately. 1T cannot, il
must not be! Call in the best medical coun-
sci to be found, and save my child. She must
not be taken from me-
The physician went away sad at heart
There was no hope with him. The child Of
the merchant must die, for the cold fingers OF
death were already in her heart, and the wa
ters of life were congealing. But he called in
the ablest members of the profession, and long
was the consultation they held, after leaving
the bedside Of the young and beautiful girl
who was about departing--a pure spirit for
the world of spirits.
While the physicians consulted, the father
paced the length of his parlors slowly to and
fro, in the bitterness of a fearful suspense. At
length the tread of feet was heard upon the
stairs His respiration ceased and then went
on again with suffocating irregularity. All but
the family physician left the house, and he
came in to advise Librand of the result of the
examination and conference. The fathers
face was pale, and his lips quivered as he
said -
There is hope"
None, my friend! cannot, dare not de-
ceive you
The merchant staggered back, and sunk
nerveless upon a sofa.
She was his only child, and her mother had
years ago faded as she was fading, and gone
down to the grave as she was going The
rounded himself with all the good things OF
life; but his gentle Marion was more to him,
twice, yea, thrice told than all the rest And
Marion was about to die.
Leave me, Doctori fyou cannot save my
chIld, leave me!' said Mr.. Librand, waving his
hand to the physician.
The Doctor stood rejecting for a moment
and then silently withdrew. From the house
of the merchant he drove to the'fesidence oi
the minister of the church to which Mr.. Ii.
brand belonged. Mr.. Loring, the minister
was man who had himself seen affliction. He
was well advanced in years, and stood ex-
cept in his official relation to the world, almost
alone. Wife and children all had left him for
purer and better sphere. But he was d
cheerful old man. He knew in whom he had
believed, and was one who could thank God
even for aff1cton.
Iwish you would see Mr. Librand,' said the
physician, on meeting the minister.
is Marion worse?' asked Mr.. Loring, with
evident concern.
| 4 have had but little hope of her from the
| first returned the physician. Now all hope
is gone. She cannot recover. We held a
consultation on her case this morning, and all
agree with me, that she is beyond the reach O
medicine
Does her father know this?'
yes, have plainly told him the worst
How does he bear it,?
More like a weak child than strong man
am afraid it will destroy his reason. Will
you not see him, Mr.. Loring, and offer him
spiritual comfort? for earth has no medicine
for his affliction.'
L will go to him now,' replied the min,
lister.
May youfnd some words that will reach hin
and save him from the gloom and desponden
cy into which he is sinking
When Mr.. Loring reached the house of Mr.
! Librand, he found the merchant walking the
rooms in which his family physician had lef
him half an hour before, il great distress O
mind -
How is your daughter?' asked the minis
ter, as he took his hand.
Beyond the hope of recovery, they tell me
but cannot, will not believe it. God will
not surely rob me of my only child. Oh, sir
you are his minister-say! do you think He
will?'
The Lord seeth not as man SEES replied
Mr.. Loring His ways are inscrutable. But
all that He does is for the best, and we should
humbIy acquiesce in his dispensations, and say
THY will be done''
There is no comfort in that to me, Mr.. Lor
ing. But to take away my only child my
loving and beloved one! the very stay of my
| life! Mono. 1t is not best; and for me
to say, Thy will be DONE would be mock
cry
| Shall not the God of all the earth do right
Shall He not claim His own, when He thinks
it best to do so? The dear angel you cal
your child belongs really to God And shall
He not take her to Himself when He will?
'You speak in strange language, Mr.. Lor
| ing. do not understand you,' said the mer.
chant, with some earnestness of manner.
'We are the creatures of His hand; the
sheep of His pasture. Shall He not do with
us as He thinks best?
The merchant answered by an impatient
gesture.
May see Marion? @ asked Mr. Loring, who
saw that in the merchants present state o.
mind words were useless,
If you please And the two went up to the
| sick chamber.
Elevated upon pillows. lay the fragile form
of young and lovely. girl, over whose sweet
face passed a gentle smile, as her father and
the minister entered.
How are you, my child p said Mr.. Loring
as he took her white, almost transparent hanc
| in his