Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1852-09-30

we're the words of heart-broken pa
rent fer guilty son.
God have mercy upon him-fof-
give him, o, Lord Such were the
prayers of the dying one as the
sound struck upon the listeners ear
His emotions we're terrible to behold
No longer able to restrain his feel
ings, he drew aside the curtains, and
bending over the bed, whispered
softly, Father, dear father, Charles
! is here.
AS that name fell upon The ears
lof the invalid, the effect was electric
AL. Starting up from his couch, he
reached for the lamp which was
standing on q table near by, and as
he held it up before the face of the
stranger, fzed his CLASSY eyes upon
I his countenance- Yes, tbs he, It's
lhe,' he muttered, and placing down
the light he fell exhausted back upon
his pillow.
Charles, he continued, though in
a voice 50 low that it was with ez-
treme difficulty his son could catch
the import Of his. words, Charles, |
have been praying for you all this
night, Yes, night and day have |
supplioattd for you at the throne Of
mercy And now are you penitent?
| l ask rot where you have hid your
self for the last four years, but have
you found mercy at. the feet of Him
who died for all? Tell me, | pray
YOU, tell me, a nd | shall be happy
happy for the first time since that
dreqdfm day when you left US to fly,
none knew whittier Come near me,
Charles, speak low-for the officers
Of the law must not know you are
here.
Nothing but the hard breathings
of the young man, which denoted a
frightful struggle within, gave notice
| that he had heard the words Of the
dying man.'
Charles, Charles, | am dying, re-
peated the father in louder tones
In afew hours / shall be in another
world. Even now / hear sweet
strains of angelic souls which shall
wtft me to my Fathers kingdom
Let me meet you, Charles, let me
meet you there
Father replied the young man,
this is too much for you to bear at
present. AS God is my witness !
knew not Of your illnes$--zhow could
II? But talk not thus, You are toe
weak and nervous. w Q WIN talk Of
this tomorrow. but where ismoth-
er, and sister Lucy? Brother Alfred
isnot here either; where have they
| all gone, and Why are YOU left to die
unattended-alone? And, in this
very room, too, where the fatal deed
was done, that drove me out into
the world an outcast. | expected
not this-but | could not rest with
out once more seeing you all.
Charles, my son, what copld you
! have expected after -, but ho,
will not reproaeh YOU You say to-
morrow we will talk Of this-no, not
/ tomorrow lit may never dome
Let it be now-now while the spirit
isstnving with you; let il be now
when yoRr heart is seltened py {
death-bed scene.
Father, | will be candid. Hy-
pocrisy Shall not be added to my
other sins. ] will not deceive you
could not deceive you. God k bows
that ] aIn sorry for the deed VI Whict
has cut me off from my fellow men
fbut-but | have not repented.
cannot repent-as you would have me;
it is the law which made me that
am. The note which | forged in q
moment Of weakness could and v Niould
have been paid before II Became due
but fate had ordered its discovery.
and when offered the full amount
in payment-they said no the law
must be satisfied. The cruel san
culinary law has made me perfectly
Indifferent to the Yorld Ne, father
cannot repent as you would have
me-
Charles, said the dying man, and
there was an uacarthIy tone of so,
lemnity in his voice, you think that
Iyou committed a small offence, done
+ in an unguarded moment OF weak
mess, and without premeditation; yor
think that you are unjustly dealt
with, and hat'yolrlfe most pay TIT
! forfeit Whenever the law seizes upoi
( YOU. Is it not SO, my son.