St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1895-02-01
HAD NO FEAR or DEATH.
A Doetor5s Qucer Experience
with "a Hospital Patient.

Collins. as he sat waiting for MS
carriage one afternoon at the end OF
a visit. I was convalascent, but not
quite out of the doctors hands; and
We often prolonged his professional
Quarter of an hour in friendly talk.
TT is = curious fact. but either men
have lied in the past or death has
lost his terrOrs in our time. ! have
attended many hundreds of death
beds. and [ never saw any oae near
his or her end who was afraid to
die.
rs that SOP" said I. 'and is the
descent to Avernus literally such an
easy one? / can understand LaZa-
rus being ready enough to exchange
his rags for Abra hams bosom, but
Dives must surely nave been 10th to
go"
We'll" said the doctor, you are
right so far. that the poor sit very
loosely TO the things of the world,
compared to their richer brethren,
but the imaginative terrOrs with
which religion has invested death
are artificial ones. and nature, in
these thfngs-or Cod. if you prefer
that way of putting it's more mer-
cifuI than man. 1 remember" he
continued. after a pause, ''once
hearing of a curious converse ton
which took place in the H hospital,
when I was house surgeon there. 1t
was told me by the priest. who was
a friend Of mine It Is 50 slight an
eOisOde as to be hardly worth re-
peatiag, but it touched me when
heard it. and [ think It bears on the
subject We were discussing.
Pray. let ne hear it" said I. and
this, as well as [ can remember 1t, is
the story DR.. Collins told me:
1t was late one evening, and the
lights were turned down in No. 3
Ward Of the H hospital. The pa
tents were lying silent, save for the
occasional tCssings and mutterings
which tod that restless minds and
bodies were in
VAIN PURSUIT OF SLEEP.
Sleep is very capricious in her Wis
its to the sfck-now and then she
.hovers over = bed. and the man lies
flushed and uneasy, it is true, but
unconscious to the world Of pain to
which he viii shortly wake.
BY some pillows she paused just
long enough to make the heads upon
them fancy. as their eyehds close,
that for once they have cheated the
night: bat after a troubled doze they
start up again. painfully wide
awake this tina, ard the next five
or six hours rendered all the more
intolerabIe by the mockeTy Of rest
which preceded them. Besides
these dalusive tricks sleep comes
armed with other tOTments. Most
people have a special nightmare Of
their own. which visits them when
. ever fever has laid its burning touch
on body and mind-some fantastic
delusion which in hours of health
and daylight they can discuss and
even smile at, but which q rise Of
temperature transforms into the ter
Tor that walketh by night.
The man VINO was lying on the bed
at the end of the long ward was be-
set by the idea Of wheels. There is
something terrible about a wheel,
as Ezekiel knew in his night
watches long ago, when he heard a
voice cry in his hearing, oh,
wheelr' and trembled at the words.
This man could see quite well that
great wheels were approaching him
from every direction; the room was
full of them; he was one himself, re-
volving quickly till he felt the bed
clothes burn beneath him with the
friction. Now he was himself again,
but all around him they were turn
ing, some swiftly, others very
slowly. which was more awful still.
There was one large black one,
drawing nearer and nearer to his
bed, till it seemed as if it must crush
him as be lay. He shrielzed aloud
with terror. but the wheel stopped
beside his pillow, and at his cry it
changed into the doctor, who was
STOPPING over him. and then from
the doctor into the priest. Yes, it
was the priest, but what was he say
ing, and with a desperate effort the
wandering mind steadied itself for a
moment. and the phantons fed
back into the shapeIess night behind
him. Father Molloy stopped over
the mans pillow. My SON said
the priest gently, your pains Will
soon be over. The church is always
ready for you-have you anything
o,, v-C777. e,,7rI +Cy7iorJ,+T''
FAITH. YOUR RIVERINCE."
said the man. in q faint, dry voice.
its a month since have had wan
big dhrink. and it's an Everlasting
thirst that is on my soul, so it Island
may the curse of st. Lawrence con-
shume the man who brought me into
this bitter burning camp
Ee was q drunken old gunner who
had spent most of his life between
the cells and the canteen. and, hav-
ing found 10 rest in either, had
drifted to that last refuge to forlorn
ones. the H hospital, where he had
come TO die. and to be borne from
thence, like 50 many another before
him. into merciful oblivion.
The priest tried to rouse the
clouded mind to a sense of the past
and Of the future, but it was a hope
less attempt. The past drifted be-
fore the dying man in broken visions
OF canteen revelries and wild ad-
ventures. and comrades more
wicked than himself The future
was silent and held no promise that
his spirit could seize-the gate Of
St.Peter refused to swing back upon
its hinges before eyes so soiled and
dimmed.
a day later Father EIouoy came
his rounds again and found an
empty bed where he had knelt on the
preceding night.
when did O'Leary die?"said he
to the occupant of the next bed,
land how did he 90 at last?"
"Ah, your reverence, it was yes
terday he died and quite peaceful -
answered the other looking UP at
him from his own pillow as he spoke.