The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1862-04-19

between this and his former demeanor.
"Your cares weary you, chaplain" he
said. quietly; you must be very faithful.
for it is past midnight"
81 was on the point of going to bed when
l was called TO prepare dying man for his
last hour" was the fearful respose.
"Indeed ! what poor fellow goes next
rejoined the young man, with look o.
mournful inquiry.
! There was no answer; Tor the wealth OF
the world the chaplain could not have sPo-
ken now. That tone SO unconscious OF
danger; that eye SO full Of sympathy Still
strange silence What did it mean =
The sick mans inquiring glance changed
] for a moment 10 one OF intense terror tie
raised both arms-let them fall heavily on
the coverlet ut his side, and in voice to-
tally altered by emotion. he gasped-
"Great Heaven! you mean me-"
"My dear friend ~ said the chaplain, un-
manned.
Il am TO die, then-and-how- 2"
| His eyes once more sought that OF his chap
lain
"You have made your peace with God.
let death come as soon AS it will, he will
carry you over the river
"Yes; but this is awfully sudden awfully
suddenv' his lips quivered; he looked up
crieviugiy-"and l shall not see my moth
er."
"Christ is better than a mother" mur-
INJURED the chaplain.
eyes" The word came in a whisper.
His eyes were closed; the lips still wore
that trembling grief as if the chastisemcnt
were two sorcc. too hard TO be borne; but
as the minutes passed. and the soul lifted it.
self up stronger and more steadily upon the
wings Of prayer, the countenance grew
calmer. the lip stead;er, and when the eyes
were opened again. there was light in
their depths that could have come only from
Heaven.
Il thank YOU for your courage." he said,
more feebly, taking the hand Of the chap
lain. "The bitterness is over now, and [
feel willing to die. Tell my mother"-he
paused gave one sob, dry. and full of the
last anguish of earth-"tell ber how l long
ed to see her, but if God will permit me
will be near her. Tell her TO comfort all
who loved me, and say that l thought of
them all. Tell my father l am glad he
gave me his consent, and that other fathers
will mourn for other sons. Tell my minister
by word or letter, that | thought Of him,
and that thank him for all his counsels.-
Tell him that l find that Christ will not
desert the passing soul; and that l wish him
10 give my testimony to the living, that
nothing is of real worth but the religion Of
Jesus. And now will you pray for me ?"
Oh! what emotions swelled the heart Of
that devoted man. as he kneeled by the bed
side Of that volunteer, the young soldier of
Christ; and with tones so low that only tine
ear Of God and that of him who was passing
away could hear, besought Gods grace and
presence. Never in all his experience had
his heart been so powerfully wrought upon;
never had feeling Of such unutterable ten
lerness taken possession Of his soul. He
seemed already in the presence Of glori-
led spirit; and after the prayer was over, /!
his sobs. no bent down. and
pressed upon the beautiful brow. already
chilled with the breath of the coming angel.
twics thrice, a fervent Kiss. They might
have been rs tokens from the father and
as we'll as himself. So, perhaps
thought the dying soldier. for a heavenly
smile touched his face with new beauty, and
he said, THANK you l won't trouble you
any longer; ycu are wearied out-go to
your rest"
"The Lord God be with you l. was the
fervent response.
"Amcn!'' trsmbled from the fast whiten-
ing lips.
Another hour passed. The chaplain still
moved uneasily around his room. There
were hurried sounds overhead, and footsteps
cred the surgeon, who whispered one little
word
"Gone -
Christs soldier had found the Captain OF
his salva,ion.-- IIdtchman and Reflector.