The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-08-11

on lids unsullied with tear. Reader
has thou known intense misery, and
canst thou not remember how thou hast
felt and wept, nay agopized, until the
very excitement OF thy misery wore out
the body's power Of endurance, and sleep
like torpor, stupor, q letharRy, bound
thee in its chains? Into such sleep had
Emilia fallen; she was lying on that
prison floor, her face pale, as if ready for
the grave, the tears yet resting on her
cheek, and over her sat the merchant
leaning, asking himself whether, treasure
that she wac, and had ever been to him,
he could wish that sleep to be the sleep
of death.
The clanking OF key caught the mer-
chants ear, a gentle step entered their
prison. The fathers first thought was
for his child. He made motion to en-
join silence; it was obeyed; his visitor
advanced with quiet tread; the mer-
chant looked upon him 10 wonder. Sure.
ly-no-and yet could it be? that his
iudge-Lord Cromwell, the vicar-general
stood before him-and stood, not with
threatening in his eye-not with denun-
citation on his lip, but took his stand on
the other side of poor Emilie, gazing on
her with an eye in which tenderness and
compassion were conspicuous.
Amusement bound up the faculties of
the merchant. He seemed to himself as
one that dreameth.
awake, gentle girl, awake" said Lord
Cromwell, as he stopped over Emilia,
"Let me hear thy voice once more as it
sounded in mine ear in other days"
The gentle accents fell too lightly to
break the spell OF that heavy slumber;
and the merchant, whose fears, feelings
and confusion, formed perfect chaos,
STOPPING over his child, suddenly awoke
her with the cry of Emilia! Emilia,
awake, and behold our iudgeP'
NAY, nay, not thus roughly" said
Lord Cromwell, but the sound had al
ready recalled Emilia to a sense of
WIRE tchedness. She half raised herself
from her recumbeat position into
kneeling one, shadowing her dazz'ed
eyes with her hand, her streaming hair
falling in wild disorder over her, and
thus resting at the feet of her judge.
"Look on me, Emiliap said Lord
Cromwell, and encouraged by the gentle
accents, she raised her tear-swollen eyes
to his face. AS she did SO, the vicar gen.
ersl lifted from his brow his plumed cap,
and revealed q perfect outline of his
features. And Emilia gez ID as il SPELL
bound, until gradually shades of doubt,
of wonder, of recognition, came strug-
Cling over her countensnce, and in
voice of passionate amazement she ex-
claimed, 1T is the same! 1t is our sick
soldier guestr'
"Even so," said Lord Cromwell, seven
SO, my dear and gentle nurse. He who
was then the poor Dope ndent on your
bounty. receiving from your charity his
daily bread as an aims. hath this day
presided over the issues OF life and death
as your Judge. But fear not Emilia; the
sight OF thee, gentle girl, comes like the
memory OF youth, and kindly thoughts
cross the sterner mood that hath lately
darkened over me. They whose voice
may influence the destiny of nation,
gradually lose the memory of gentler
thoughts 1t may be Providence hath
sent thee to melt me back again into
a softer nature. Many heart shall be
gladdeped, that, but for my sight of thee
had been sad unto death. I bethink me
gentle girl, of the flowers, laden with dew
and rich in fragrance, which thou used
to Icy upon my pillow, while this head
throbbed with agony of pain upon it;
fondly thinking that their sweetness
would be balm; and how thou vert
used to steal into my ,ed-chamber and
listen to tales of this, the land of my
homel Thou art here; and how hast
thou been welcomed? -to a prison, and
well nigh to DEATH But the poor soldier
hath home. Come, thou and thy father,
and share it."
An hour! who dare prophecy its event?
At the beginning of that hour the mer-
chant and his daughter had been the
sorrowing captives of a prison; at its
close they were the treasured guests of
palace.-English Paper.