The Highland weekly news. [volume] (Hillsborough [Hillsboro], Highland County, Ohio) 1853-1886, 1872-01-25
HOW 1T FEELS TO BE
DEAD.

I
DEAD.
A Young Man Hears His OWE
! Funeral Sermon.
Tho Fort Wayne Sentinel, one o
our most reliable Indiana exchanges
tells the following story:
/ Among the most prominent visit
ors who are passing the holidays
with their friends and relatives il
this city, is Mr.. Cecil c., Of Brewer
ton, N. 7. About FIVE years age
Mr.. G. went boating on Oneida
lake with two of his companions
They unmoored the boat and rowed
for the distance of two miles to an
island that lifted itself from the
waves. Here they spent a few
hours in collecting shells and bOtan-
ic specimens, until a black, thunder
laden cloud in the west warned
them that a violent storm was brew
ing, and they speedily set out on
their return.
They had nearly reached the
mainland when their little craft
was turned keel upward by a squall,
and the party was left struggling
and painting in the water. Mr.. C..
saw his two companions swimming
toward the shore and attempted to
follow them, but in vain. A de-
Iightful sensation of repose took
possession of him; then all was
chaos-blank
He was rescued by his compan-
ions, and upon his return to con-
sciousness, be attempted to open
his eyes-to move his hands-to
speak, but found himself unable to
command a muscle. As ho lay in
this condition, memory pictured to
him all that had transpired up to
the moment when he became insen-
sible. Then he marveled whether
he was alive or dead, What
meant this hush ? this chill ? this
blackness of darkness that enveloped
him? Where was he ? Would it
always be thus
Time passed on, and he felt his
thoughts and ideas contracting into
a narrower and narrower sphere,
until nothing but the one central
knowledge of existence continued
to assert itself But suddenly a
crash, as if all the Titan thunder
gods had blown their trumpets in
unison, smote upon his hearing-a
deluge of Eight, like the concentrated
rays of million suns, burst upon
his vision, there was a severing Of
soul and sense, and he stood in
spirit beside his violet-strewn coffin
and read the inscription
Cecil G.
Born in Bal timors, Nd,
June %, 1916,
Died at BrswertOn, n. T.,
June %, 1866,
Aged 20 years.
Through. the oval glass at the
head of the easket he could see his
face, frozen into the white rigidity
of death. '..
His friends and relatives were
seated around the room, and the
pastor was preaching a touching
funeral sermon, interrupted now
and then by the sobs Of his listeners.
Through the open windowthe glory
of a summer day was drifting in,
fragrant with the sweet breath from
clover fields, and musical with the
songs of birds. He saw a latent
beauty in everything be looked
upon and q latent melody in every
sound he heard-and he realized
how crude and imperfect are all our
dreams of happiness in the flesh, as
compared with those which the
immortals know.
/ But, like flash ofIightning, there
came loss of identity again-utter
annihilation for an uncertain lapse
of time-and when he again awoke
to a sense of his condition, his spirit
once more tenanted his body-his
coffin had been borne to the ceme-
tery-and he heard the sexton pre-
pairing to lower him to bis last rest
ing place IN the dust.
Now, for the first time, a great
horror fell upon him. He would
regain consciousness when too late
would strike the close walls of his
prison, but to no pnrpose-csll, and
there would be no answer-pray,
and the very heavens would be
IpitiIess-shriek, tear his flesh with
his fingers, curse, and, raving, die!
Summoning up all his will, he util-
lied it in last effort to break the
spell that had seized him, and with
success. He was rescued from his
impending doom, and weeks CT
watchfuI nursing brought him back
to the full enjoyment of his former
health.
Send your little child to bed hap
py. Whatever cares press, give it
a warn, cyoDd- -Digbt Hiss oS If ones tC