He handed me his canteen, and while drinking I seemed to get
quite easy. There seemed to be a great mist all over us; I could
see nothing for a little while. Again I heard my name called, and
looking up, found the mist had cleared away, and our
great-grandfather (whom I knew well, from the old portrait, which
we used to be so proud of, father telling us he was one of the
signers of the "Declaration") was standing before me, but he did
not look smiling like the face of the picture; but, oh! so sad
and stern. In his hand he had a beautiful wreath of ivy, which
he, stooping, placed on the brow of Paul, saying, "Live,
boy--your country wants you;" and stretching forth his hand, he
drew me to a stand near him on which stood our old family Bible,
ink and pen. He opened to the births, and putting his finger on
my name, he raised the pen and marked a heavy black line over the
H, and was proceeding, when his hand was caught by our old nurse,
Mammy Chloe, who has been dead years, you know, who pointed over
toward the west of us, and there stood a large shining cross with
these words over it, "Unless ye forgive men their trespasses, how
can your Heavenly Father forgive you?" And coming up to me, put
forth her hand and beckoned me to follow her.
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