Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1856-02-13


terial learning in that aged divine's exhorta-
ton, and although, we left the church, /
heard many speak of it with expressions of
| lively pleasure, 1 felt assured that he himself
was discontented with the discourse. 1t was
| like thin, itful sunlight, yelling lowering
December sky; or, like snow, binding the
| eyes with glitter, yet in its actual self, very
cold and unsubstantial. perceived that there
was that beneath all this sparkle of words,
| which few present understood. Was it private
griefl Was it some hidden agony warning
against unnatural restraint? 1 recognized
the evidences of insincerity, but whether tenn
| porary habitual 1 could not discover
When he ceased, 1 felt merely the silence
| there was none that strange sensation at the
cessation Of impassioned, nobly earnest deliv-
cry which had experienced often before.
s'Certainly," thought I, ''that man is either
very heartless or very miserable
The congregation was pouring itself quietly
| out, when in the usual organ voluntary, came
an abrupt but slight pause, followed by deep
stiffness. Immediately human voice, full
and rare mans voice, commenced chanting
that celebrated solo from Felix McndelsShon
Bartholdy's ssMessiah,'' II know that my re-
deemer liveth.'' Perfectly in time and tune,
although with no further accompaniment than
the few opening chords, the voice issued from
the choir, bearing to world-weary listeners
consolation and peace. 1t was not the noble
words, nor yet the nobler music, it was the cr-
preston gathered by that fine voice from the
two, uniting in one glorious whole, till the
very atmosphere seemed to thrill with its
wealth of melody. On the last notes of the
solo, as it faded magnifcertly into silence the
organs accompaniment recommended, prov
ing by the purest unity of the two sounds the
successful intonation of the unknown vocalist.
Many curious eyes directed towards the
gallery, but the curtains weie tightly drawn,
and the mystery still remained mysterious
Some casual movement, however, momentari-
Iy displaced portion of the floating screen,
and revealed to me a glimpse Of the dark,
handsome face had before noticed; and it was
RRRen snss dfH6 bs6eff9f ff9fnaS4feen It fenH or eh
wonder, if that soulful singing and that mo-
rose, unhappy counenance belonged to one |
and the same individual.
The close of this Sabbath day was destined
history of this very man.
The night fell, dewy and starry, but with an
oppressiveness Of atmosphere that was not,
in that part of the country, an uncommon con-
sequence on long continued rains. The
ground was almost destitute of moisture, and
the grass of that harsh, vivid green, so de-
structive to vision. The air was heavy and
breathless, the very stars seemed to blink with
the universal drowsiness. We were just seat
ed at our plainly furnished tea-table, when
there came a startling peal from the little pri-
mitive knocker on the hall door.
ssA visitor,'' said my wife, settling her cap.
GA PATIENT said I, rushing from the room,
just in time to upset black boy who ran vio-
lently against me. Alternately Rubbing his
bruised sides, and grinning from ear to ear at
the adventure, he informed me that ssmassa
was took sick in great hurry" and then
scampered off, having first pointed out large
and conspicuous house, quite near to my own,
as the residence of the sick man. had often
before noticed it for the elaborate arrange
ment of its extensive gardens.
In a few moments was in the chamber of
the first patient to whom had been called du-
ring my residence in M. The room was
large and brilliantly lighted; bouquets of deli
cate flowers were scattered over it-eyidently,
illness had been totally unlocked for by the
master of the dwelling. AS l entered, the
face OF my patient was hidden from me by the
pillows in which it was buried. The wife,
young, slight thing, half sat, half reclined be-
side him, her head bowed on her bosom, her
pale hands tightly locked one in the other
She raised her eyes as L entered, and on see
ing me, sudden gleam of something which,
if it were not hope, had all its beauty, passed
over her features.
ssDoctor' she cried wildly, advancing to
meet me, ssDoctor, save him-save him!''
Before had time to answer, voice from
| the other side of the bed uttered in a low, So
norous, but self-possessed tone:
ssIt is too late 70
Glancing quickly that way, 1 saw the gray
haired minister. On his hands were great red
spots of blood the pillows, the sheets were
marked with it; and on the white dress of the
young wife glittered also fresh crimson stains.
ssHe is dying" said the old man, reverently
kneelng at the bedside; sshuman aid is of lit
| tie consequence now. Again | say, it is too
late. Abner, my boy, do you hear me-you
are dying 70
1 approached the bed, and as did so, the
sick man raised his head, and 1 saw before me
the beautiful, despairing face of the morning
The dark eyes were fiercer and brighter, and
deeply sunken in their sockets, while the hea-
Wy masses of hair and beard gave the ghastly
complexion still more unearthly hue. He
had ruptured q bloodvesSeL. At glance