SPEAK OF HIS LOVE.
For several days Daniel suffered great pain, but with such perfect
peace and joy in his heart that it seemed as if he could scarcely
realize or feel his bodily anguish. Jessica was with him constantly;
and when he was free from pain she read aloud to him, or talked with
him of the heaven to which he was going, and which seemed to be open
to his gaze already, as one catches a glimpse from afar off of some
beautiful country basking in the glory of a full noontide sunshine.
The chapel people came to see him, some of them in the carriages which
of old set him pondering on their riches; and they left him, marveling
that they had known so little of the religiousness of the man who
had ushered them to their pews Sunday after Sunday. But as yet the
minister had not visited him, though he had sent him word that as soon
as it was possible he would come to see him.
The last day had arrived; both Daniel and Jessica knew that it was
the last day, and she had not stirred from his side since morning;
and still the minister had not come--had not been able to come to the
death-bed of his old friend. For they were old friends, having met many
times a week for a dozen years in the same chapel; and since Jessica
had drawn them closer together the learned and eloquent preacher had
cared for Daniel’s illiterate soul, and the chapel-keeper had learned
to pick up some crumbs of nourishment from the great feast which the
minister prepared week after week for his intellectual congregation. He
had not been, but Daniel was undisturbed, and so, patient and peaceful,
with a smile upon his lips when he met Jessica’s wistful eyes, he
waited for the last hour and the last moment to come.
Yet before it was too late, and before his eye grew dim, and his tongue
numbed with the chillness of death, the minister arrived, pale in face,
and bowed down with weakness, and with a trembling voice which faltered
often as he spoke. They clasped one another’s hands, and looked into
one another’s face with a strange recognition, as if both had seen
further into the other world than they had ever done before, and then
the minister sank feebly into the chair beside Daniel’s pillow.
“I will rest here, and stay with you for an hour,” he said.
“It is the last hour,” answered Daniel.
“Be it so,” replied the minister. “I too have looked death in the face.”
They were silent for a while, while the minister rallied his strength,
and then he bent his head, his head only, for he was too feeble yet to
kneel beside the dying man, and he poured forth a prayer to God in his
inmost heart, but with hesitating lips, which no longer uttered with
ready speech the thoughts which thronged to his brain. The Amen with
which he ended was almost a groan.
“My power is taken from me,” he said; “the Almighty has stricken me in
the pride of my heart. I shall never more speak as I used to do, of his
glory and majesty, and the greatness of his salvation.”
“You can speak of his love,” murmured Daniel.
“Yes,” he answered despondently, “but only as a child speaks. I shall
never stir the hearts of the congregation again. My speech will be
contemptible.”
“Jessica, tell him what you and I have been talking about,” said Daniel.
Jessica lifted up her face from the pillow, and turned it towards the
minister, a smile struggling through her tears; and though her voice
was unsteady to begin it grew calm and clear before she had spoken
many words.
“We were talking how he’d never be the chapel-keeper any more, and go
up into the pulpit to carry the books before you; and then we thought
it was true, maybe, what the doctor says, that you’d never be well
enough again to preach in such a big chapel; and so we went on talking
about the time when we shall all be in heaven. We said that perhaps God
would give you more beautiful thoughts there, and grander words, and
you’d still be our minister; and the angels ’ud all come thronging up
in crowds all about you and us to hearken to what you’d thought about
Jesus Christ and about God; and there’d be a great congregation again.
Only whenever you were silent for a minute we could look up and see the
Saviour himself listening to us all.”
Then the minister bowed his pale face upon his hands; but he did not
answer a word.
“There is one thing still I want to say,” said Daniel. “I’ve made my
will, and left all I had to Jessica; but I don’t know where she’ll find
a home. If you’d look out for her--”
“Jessica shall come home to me,” interrupted the minister, laying his
hand upon hers and Daniel’s and clasping them both warmly.
“I’m a Christian man,” whispered Daniel. “I know that I love God, and
that he has made me something like himself. There’s a verse about it in
the Bible.”
“‘Beloved,’” said the minister, “‘now are we the sons of God, and it
doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall
appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.’”
There was no stammering of the minister’s speech as he pronounced these
words, and his face grew bright, as did the face of the dying man.
Daniel’s mind wandered a little, and he groped about, as in the dark,
for the Bible, which lay upon the bed; and he murmured,
“It’s time to take up the books, for the congregation is waiting, and
the minister is ready. I will take them up to heaven.”
He spoke no more; but the Bible after a while fell from his hand, and
Jessica and the minister, looking upon his face, saw that in heaven he
was beholding the face of the Father.
It proved true that the minister could never again preach a sermon such
as in former times, when the people listened with strained attention,
and he was to them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant
voice, and playeth well on an instrument; but they heard his words
and did them not. Yet he was a man of calmer happiness than before;
and in his quiet country home, where sometimes of a Sunday he mounted
the pulpit-steps of a little chapel, and taught a simple congregation
simple truths, he drew nearer day by day in spirit to the great
congregation who were waiting for him, and before whom his lips should
never more be silenced.
Transcriber’s Note:
Spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained as they appear
in the original publication, including the use of “wont” for “won’t” in
“Jessica’s First Prayer”, except as follows:
_Jessica’s First Prayer_
Page 17
‘You make good coffee _changed to_
“You make good coffee
Page 26
sobs of pain and wearness _changed to_
sobs of pain and weariness
Page 27
through at the inside- _changed to_
through at the inside.
Page 43
looking round encourageingly _changed to_
looking round encouragingly
Page 54
CHAPTER IV. _changed to_
CHAPTER VII.
Page 70
often saying no more that _changed to_
often saying no more than
Page 89
minister and the beadle, ‘I asked _changed to_
minister and the beadle, “I asked
_Jessica’s Mother_
Page 21
it with our hearts. _changed to_
it with our hearts.”
Page 31
the door into a comforttable _changed to_
the door into a comfortable
Page 35
in some away had never looked _changed to_
in some way had never looked
Page 50
when she hears every, thing _changed to_
when she hears every thing
Page 53
He knows she is my mother. _changed to_
He knows she is my mother.”
Page 58
on any farther? _changed to_
on any farther?”
Page 64
would he have thrust _changed to_
would He have thrust
Page 74
caried to the chapel _changed to_
carried to the chapel
Page 79
like some giant skeletion _changed to_
like some giant skeleton
A Contents has been added for _Jessica’s Mother_.