GLEANINGS liN liEE (CULTURE. 



July 



chattered as if 1 liad the ague, and a gather- 

 ing in my head told me tlie old earache of 

 my boyhood was coming, unless I had a hot 

 brick "under it. The Bath bricks used for 

 warming- feet nowadays are just the thing, 

 and my good wife soon had one under my 

 liead, so hot it almost scorched the bed- 

 clothing. I got warm, and into a sweat ; 

 but racking pains were darting through me 

 all over, and I was a good candidate for 

 lung fever, or something of that sort. The 

 doctors can probably tell what the matter 

 was. Some of you may be surprised that a 

 man nearly fifty years of age should not have 

 known better than to expose himself in tlie 

 way 1 did. I did know better; but it had 

 been some time since I had had a, lesson like 

 the above, and I was getting careless. I 

 suppose that most of you have heard of lives 

 being lost under similar circumstances. 

 VVhen you get heated up. and in a heavy 

 perspiration, don't sit down in a draft to 

 cool off. Take warning from tlie experience 

 of Uncle Amos. 



We are now ready for the spiritual teach- 

 ings that came to me in consequence of the 

 above imprudence. It has been many long 

 years since 1 passed through the suffering I 

 did that night Sleep seemed to be impossi- 

 ble; and yet when my wife asked what was 

 the matter, and where I was suffering, I 

 could not really tell. Over and over again 

 during the night I would sit up in bed and 

 wonder whether I was made of old bo((rds, 

 warped and checked and split., or whethei- I 

 was really flesh and blood, in my own home. 

 The chill, or whatever it was, had left me 

 light-headed ; and even when I sat up I did 

 not seem to know what I was or where I 

 was. I simply knew that I was suffering in 

 every part of my body, in a way 1 had hard- 

 ly ever sufferedbefore; and in this phase of 

 bodily pain, Satan seemed to think : 



"I wonder, now, if this will not be a good 

 time to offer some suggestions to that pious 

 chap. I have tried him with almost every 

 thing, and he has snubbed me and misused 

 me so much I should like to humiliate him a 

 little." 



r didn't think at the time that it was Sa- 

 tan ; but afterward, as I pondered over it, 

 I felt sure enough. Now, you may be a lit- 

 tle curious, dear reader, to know how Satan 

 could torment a body while sick and suffer- 

 ing. Well, Satan did come to me in a new 

 phase. He came to me with an experience 

 I had never had before. 1 suppose most of 

 you know that my disposition is naturally 

 hopeful. When even a small boy I was noted 

 for being hai)py. cheerful, aiid contented 

 most of the time. It didn't require com- 

 panions and playmates or playthings to 

 make me happy, either. The things of in- 

 terest to be found in our dooryard, or, in 

 the winter time, even indoors, were enough 

 to furnish me with a vast fund of enjoy- 

 ment. In fact, life, under all circumstances, 

 has been a rare gift. I love to live People 

 have sometimes asked the question, " Does 

 it pay?" I have always said, '-To be sure, 

 it pays, a hundred times over." When I 

 have heard people talk about death being 

 welcome, it has always seemed strange to 

 me. This life may be painful, it may be 



unpleasant ; we may have many great trials ; 

 but I have always felt, that life is to be pre- 

 ferred under any conditions, to non-exist- 

 ence. I think I have said, sometimes, while 

 discussing this matter, that I would unhes- 

 itatingly take the penitentiary for life, even 

 if while there I should be deprived of hands 

 and feet, sight, hearing, and, in short, every 

 thing else it is possible to take away and 

 still leave existence. My wife used to sug- 

 gest killing a lame chicken, to "put it oul 

 of its misery ; " but I always replied, "Why. 

 my dear wife, how do yoii know that it is 

 out of its misery wlien it is killed? " She 

 always insisted, however, that everybody 

 knows that a dead chicken does not sutler ; 

 but the latter has never been really clear to 

 me. The chicken had tasted the "pleasures 

 of existence ; and I was never satisfied that 

 it would be happier dead than alive, even 

 with a painful leg. 



Perhaps, dear friends, you think there is 

 no point here, and that this is aside from 

 our text and from the letter from our friend. 

 The point is this : For the lirst time in my 

 life— at least, so far as I can remember— 

 Satan suggested slipping off this rickett\ , 

 pain-racked frame, and with it this siii- 

 stained life of trial and suffering. Now, do 

 not be in haste to jump at the conclusion 

 that I permitted the terrible thought of 

 suicide to once enter my mind. I did not, 

 any more than so fai- as I am going to tell 

 you. When Satan whispered that this life 

 is but a series of trials and hardships any 

 way, the old thought about the dead chicken 

 came into my mind, and I began to feel like 

 assenting to my wife's philosophy. Since 

 becoming a Christian I liave not dreaded 

 death, because with it has come the thought 

 that it would come when the Savior called ; 

 and I am sure it will be a glad moment for 

 me Avhen I can feel absolutely certain that 

 he calls me anywhere— wheth"^er to life or to 

 death. But that night a feeling came that I 

 was getting old, and that it would be rather 

 a relief to give up care and worry and pain, 

 and take rest. Satan did not ssiy any thing 

 about what sort of rest it was to" be ;" but to 

 my feverish brain that night the idea seem- 

 ed" inviting. Then my mind recurred to the 

 boy I found with his neck across the rail- 

 road track ; and I thought of his philosophy, 

 that in this way be could keep his promise 

 to his mother, never to drink any thing 

 more, and it seemed quite reasonable. Then 

 I remembered those I had known, others I had 

 heard of, who decided they would not stand 

 suffering and torture any longer, and accord- 

 ingly took upon themselves the terrible re- 

 sponsibility of ending life. Dear reader, 

 have you ever had any experience of the 

 rapidity and speed with which Satan 

 can push ahead whenever he succeeds in 

 getting a listener? Some of you may ask, 

 " Why, brother Root, where was that little 

 prayer of yours, that has all along these 

 years rung out involuntarily — " Lord, 

 help "? AYell, it did ring out; may be there 

 were only a few brief mimitcs before it sound- 

 ed ; but "in those few brief moments I was 

 made to feel that dangers awaited my frail 

 bark of life that I had never dreamed of be- 

 fore. I was made to feel that new and nn- 



