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The Restored

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■ God is everywhere! His words are on nll heurts. Ho is on the battle-fieTd or in our quiet home. Pruiso be to His holy name. It was in the wilds of Wissahickon, on the day of battle, as the Doon-day sun ciime through the thiokly clustered leaves, that two men met ia deadly conflict, near the reefs, which rose like the rooki of soms primeva] world, at least a hundred leet abovo the dark waters of the Wissahiekon. The man vvith the dark, brown taco, and dark gray eye, flashed with doadly light, and muscular form, ciad in a blue {rock of the Eevolution - is a Continental, nnmed Warren. The other man with long, black hair, drooping along his cadaverous face, ia ciad in the half military costume ot al Tory Refugee. This is a murderer of Paoli, nnmed Debaney. They met by accident, and now they iought, not with sword and riñe, but with long and doadly hunting knives, they struggleil, twiuing and twisting on the green sward. At last the Tory is down - down on the turf, with thé knce of the Continental upon his breaet - the upraisod knife flashed death in his faoe ! " Qu.arter ! I yield !" grasped the Tory, as the knee was pressed upon his breast, " spare me; I yield." " My brother," saiii the patriot, in a tone of deadly hate. " my brother cried for quarters on the night of Paoli, and even as he clung toyourknees, you struck that knife into his heart. O, Í will give you the quarter of Paoli !" And, as his hand raised fof tho blow, and1 his teeth were clenched with deadlv hate he pausad for a moment, then pinioned the Tory's sirnia, and with a rapid stride, dragged lam to the rerge of the rock, and held him quiverjng over the abyss. "Mercy !" grasped the Torylurning ashy palé by turas, as that awf jl guit' yawned below. " Mercy ! I have a wife and child at home - spare me !" The Continental, with his muscular strength gathered for the efibrt, shook the murderer onco more over the abyss, and then hissed tbis bitter sneer in his face. " My brother had a wife and two children. The morning aiter the night of Paoli, that wife was a widow, those children orphana. VVouldyou nt like to go and beg your life of that widow and tier orphans V' The proposal made by the Continent' al ia mockery and bitter bate, was Uiken in eörioue earnest. by the terror stricken Tory. He asked to be taken to the widow and her ehilden, and to have the privilege of begging his life. Alter a rnoment's serious tliought, the patriot consentecl. He bouud the Tury's arrns stilt tighter, placed hun on ihe rock again, and led him to the woods. A quiet cottage, embossed among the trees, broke on their eyes. They entered the cottage. There, beside the desolate hearth-stone, sat the widow and her children. They sat there, a matronly woman of about thirty-three years, with a face faded by care, a deep, dark eye, and long black hair, haugiugin a disheveled state about her shoulders. Un one side was a dark haired boy of some six yenrs, on tho other side a girl oneyear younger, with light blue eyes. The jibie - an oíd and venerable vol amo - ay open upon the mother's lap. And iow the pale-faeed Tory üuog himsült' pon his knees, and eoniessed ho hud jutchered her husband on the night oí' 'aoli, andbegged his lite at her hands. " Spare ine tbr the sake of my wife nd child- " üe ejcpeeted the pitiful moan would ouoh the widovv'a heart, but uot one elenting glearn softened her face. "The Lord shall judge between us," he said in a cold icy tone that troze the murderer's heart. " Look, the Bible ia n my lap ; I will close the volume, and his boy tshall opon it, and place his itigers at random upon a line, and by hatyou ehall live or die." ïhis was astrong proposal, made in good faith oí a wild and dark superstir ion of olden times. For a niomen the Tory, pale as ashes, was wrapped n deep thought - theu in a fuinting voice he signitied his consent. Raising her dark eyes to heaven, the motlier prayed to the Great Father tp direct the finger of her son. She cloaed the book - slie handed it to that boy whosecheek reddened with loathing as ae gazed on hisfather's murderer. He took the Bible, opened its pages at random, and placed his finger on a verse. There was a silence. The Continental soldier, who had sworn to avenge his brother's doath, stood with dilating eyes and parted lips. Tho culpit kneeling upon tho Üoor, with his face like discolored clay, feit his heart leap to his throat. Then in a olear, bold voico, the widow read this line irom the Old Testament. It was short, yet terrible: "That man shall die!" Lookl the brother eprings lorward to plunge a knifo into the murderei-'s heart, but the tory, pinioned as ha js, alirigs to tiiu widow's knee. He begs that one moro trial may be made by the little girl, that child of tive )uars old with the goldon hair aud laugliing eyes. The widow consent;!. There is an awful pause. With a enflile in hor eye, without knowing what she was doing, the little girl opens the liiblo as it lay on her mother's knee; she turned hor face away and placed her finger upon a lino. Tho awful siloncü grows deepur. The deep drawn breathsofthe brothor. and broken gasp of the murderer, alone dibturb the stillness; the widow une dark haired boy were breathloss. The little gii-], bs sho oatlght a feeling oí awe irom those about her, stood breathless; her face turned aside, and her tiny iinger icstiug on the lines of liffe and death. At length guthering courgge, tho widow beat her eye upon the üíígp and reud . t Vfus a. (ino f rom ttio New Testament, " Love your enerniea." Oh, book oi' terrible majesty and childlike lovo - oí subliinity tbat ei ushes the heart with rapture, yon never shone more strongly than Ihcro in that lonely cot of the Wissahickon when you saved the murderer's heart. Nuw look how wouderiul are the way'a of heavon. That very night as tiio widow sal by her fireside - sat thero with a crushed heart and bot oye-lids, thinking of lier husbund who now l:iy mouldering on the dronched soil of Paoli - thero was a tap at tho door. She opened it, and Uuit husband, living, though covered with wounds was in hor arma. He had fallen at Paoli, but not in d.ea'-h, he v;ts alive, and his wife lay panting on his bosorn. That night there was a prayel' K the wood embowered cottage oí Wissahickon.


Old News
Michigan Argus