hen came bitter
thoughts upon me--yea, remembrances that were like death to my soul.
The happiness of my early days was painted to me, the disquiet of my
manhood, the altered faith of my declining years. I remembered how I
had been moved to go forth a wanderer when my daughter, the youngest,
the dearest of my flock, lay on her dying-bed, and--"

"Couldst thou obey the command at such a moment?" exclaimed Pearson,
shuddering.

"Yea! yea!" replied the old man, hurriedly. "I was kneeling by her
bedside when the voice spoke loud within me, but immediately I rose
and took my staff and gat me gone. Oh that it were permitted me to
forget her woeful look when I thus withdrew my arm and left her
journeying through the dark valley alone! for her soul was faint and
she had leaned upon my prayers. Now in that night of horror I was
assailed by the thought that I had been an erring Christian and a
cruel parent; yea, even my daughter with her pale dying features
seemed to stand by me and whisper, 'Father, you are deceived; go home
and shelter your gray head.'--O Thou to whom I have looked in my
furthest wanderings," continued the Quaker, raising his agitated eyes
to heaven, "inflict not upon the bloodiest of our persecutors the
unmitigated agony of my soul when I believed that all I had done and
suffered for thee was at the instigation of a mocking fiend!--But I
yielded not; I knelt down and wrestled with the tempter, while the
scourge bit more fiercely into the flesh. My prayer was heard, and I
went on in peace and joy toward the wilderness."

The old man, though his fanaticism had generally all the calmness of
reason, was deeply moved while reciting this tale, and his unwonted
emotion seemed to rebuke and keep down that of his companion. They sat
in silence, with their faces to the fire, imagining, perhaps, in its
red embers new scenes of persecution yet to be encountered. The snow
still drifted hard against the windows, and sometimes, as the blaze of
the logs had gradually sunk, came down the spacious chimney and hissed
upon the hearth. A cautious footstep might now and then be heard in a
neighboring apartment, and the sound invariably drew the eyes of both
Quakers to the door which led thither. When a fierce and riotous gust
of wind had led his thoughts by a natural association to homeless
travellers on such a night, Pearson resumed the conversation.

"I have wellnigh sunk under my own share of this trial," observed he,
sighi