The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-06-30
CHAPTER xXvH-Continued.

He was surprised, and at first somewhat dis
concerted, at finding himself sick man. 1t
interfered very much with his long -cherished
Mans. which had seemed to him upon the very
eve of fulflment-plans of winning field of
wide and happy usefulness for himself, and a
pinnacle of prosperity on which to enthrone
has lady-love. But, young as he was, he had
already had experience enough to lead him to
think that, when God makes any great change
in our condition, it is often less His purpose to
make us suffer, even in this world, than to
make US ENJOY in some new way. Those are
usually happy who are always willing to be
happy after a fashion of His choosing. On
such occasions Herman often said, IF / had
not been shot by Border Ruffian, remember,
| should not have been taken pity on by Sis
ter of Charity"
His mind soon turned to the blessings of sick
ness: and from this chiefly Clara knew that he did
consider himself a sick man, for to her he talk
ed a little of the blessings, though not Of the
sickness. She was sitting beside him in the
tent, with one Of her hands in both of his, and
with the other bathing his temples with Cologne;
for he acknowledged that they ached, after Con-
stance left him, forced away by conspiracy
between all the others to take ride with Ed
ward Herman spoke then of the perfect lux
ury of repose, stiffness, and the care of those
one loved. No well person could know it, ex-
cept in infancy. 1t was one of the blessings of
infancy, which only sickness could restore to
maturity Clara must be i'll some time-a very
little so, after she had cured him-that he might
show her how very sweet it was. Noone could be
thoroughly trained physician, who had never
needed one This would be good apprentice
ship for him. He should be able to do twice as
much good after it, as he had ever done before
as he ever could have done without it. Psyche,
do you recollect how our Lord said to his Apos-
ties, after they had been trying to do little
work for him, Come We apart into the desert
place. and rest while?' 1t seems to me con-
tinually that in this sickness, he is saying so
TO me. The thought that He or His Father has
provided this retirement, and refreshment,
and opportunity for quiet selfrecolection, prep
aration. and communion with Him, before
go back to my work, is very soothing to me
one of the very sweetest drops in the cup OF
life, which God has mixed for me, is the thought
that he had already planned all this rest and
dear companionship and tender care for me
when | was-at the Southland it seemed, at
times, so doubtful whether | should ever be one
of you again. 1t would have been sad to be i'll
there; very sad to die
He seldom inclined at this time to speak
much of himself-never so fully as upon this
OCCASION and to her; but when he did SO at all
except to his physicians, to whom he gave SIM
pie technical statements, untinged by any sent-
ment of any kind-it was always hopefully. He
talked when he had breath, with kind of ex-
hiaration, of church and state, the poor the
country. and the world the world of letters, of
religion, of science, and of art. Everything in
terested him that concerned his fellow men.
There was so much to be done and he should
soon be able to do so much !"
How often are such prophecies heard from
fading young lips, in silent anguish or reported
afterwards, bv those more distant relatives and
friends who can command their voices to repeat
them to one another, with shakes of the head
and intersections of All, poor fellow How
little he knowsl" But who does know? or can
Is it so certainly the prophets, who are deceived
or ourselves? May not their predictions spring
from the felt STRINGS within them of the might
from the dawning foresight within them-oi
their near immortality? Very bitter it is to
stand by and listen to such utterances from the
tongues Of those whose past life has been thrown
away, useless to God and man-tor whom We
can only hope against hope that their career
IN the other world may prove to be the utter
contradiction and refutation of every sign and
omen of their career in this-to whom an hon
orable, noble, and holy course amongst breath
ing men has become forever imposslbility,
and who have not time left on earth for reform
atOn-that stamp of repentance which alone
can prove the coin genuine and current, ana
not the mere base counterfeit OF fright, impo-
tence and shame. Bitter enough 1t still Is to
listen to such predictions, when the lie OF the
speaker has been so lofty beautiful, true, and
kind that we are persuaded that neither death,
nor angels, nor principalties, nor things pres
ent nor things to come, nor height nor depth,
nor sny creature, can ever separate it from the
love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord
vet know not how our own life can live on with
out it. and know that it is passing away.
As was natural, those most constantly about
Herman saw the change in him less than those
who saw him rarely; and how much the former
saw they did not say to one another, and scarce
lv, perhaps owned to themselves Edward was
one of those men, who, if they had a party OF
ladies to conduct across ground undermined
with match in the mine, and light at the
match-would do so with cheerfulness and bon
NoMUttt
Step. and talking of the last new opera. Clara,
though she had not quite broken loose from the
beautiful reveres-she would not have been
Clara Arden without them-was never now
blinded by them to the suferings or situation
Of those about her; but her temperament and
sympathies always inclined her to hope the best
and Constance's spirit always excitable, had
not vet exhausted the reaction of ecstacy and
thankfulness which Hermans return had pro
duced, after the misery of his Imprisonment
She was romantic still and romantic minds
always fancy that the story of their life, like
any story of fiction, must of necessity eliminate
to some Interchangeable climax of bliss or woe
During Hermans absence, she was convinced
that the latter was to be her fate ; upon his re
turn the former But this our transitory life
Is itself a series of transitions. There IS In II
much JOY, but little unchanging joy; and much
sorrow, but little unchanging sorrow.
1t is probable, however, that before the enc
OF the month of August, they all began to feal
that Hermans vigor might never be restored
and that he must resign himself to lead hence
forth only the life of an invalid For, the next
time that DIR. Lovel came to see him. he asked
the girls, with some solicitude, after he left
him, what they thought of him Constance, her
face quite haggard with expectation, waited for
Clara to answer; and Clara said, gently, ave
think he is not yet looking so well as we hoped
he would but that the cold weather NAV do
more for him.
The color flushed over Constance's cheek and
brow. The old man, who had seen much OF
her during Herman's absence, and become very
fond of her, looked wistfully at her, as if he
seems my dear" said he; how free from any
Kind Of ar,far