36
THE BATTALION.
BLACK SAM.
College duties were well over for the
day and I had walked' home to get my
wood and chips for the morning fires.
The sunlight still lit surrounding nature,
and beautiful calm was pervading earth
and sky. I noticed some smoke ascend
ing from a pile of dtry grass and leaves,
and walked past the house to see what
it meant. Black Sam had raked the yard
and was 1 burning the trash. As he stirred
the pile and the leaves crackled and the
flames danced, I said: “Sam, what are
you going to do when you die and go to
that hot place and he stirred as you stir
those withered leaves?” “I am not
troubled about that, sir, for I have His
word, that if I love Him and serve Him
the best my light will let me, He will
care for my poor soul when I die.” Sam
raked the yard, and I gathered my wood
and chips and went back into the house.
That night I dreamed a dream. I saw
a flag floating over a grand, free repub
lic. Small colonies of weary pilgrims
had spread from a narrow strip along the
Atlantic, way over to the broad Pacific.
They filled the land from mountain to
mountain, from the lakes to the gulf.
I somehow floated over this broad land.
and could see its magnificent territory,
splendid climate, busy cities and villages,
and listened to the hum of its many in
dustries. Its schools and colleges dotted
the surface, and the many church spires
pointed’ in the direction of the faith of
its people. I took off my hat to my flag,
and Sam stood by me, hat in hand for
his flag, and we both had the same flag—
the Stars and Stripes.
The scene shifted. I saw a babe lying
in a manger in a faroff land. Wise men
came and offered incense, and' went their
way. Then I saw a child, and then a
man. That man spoke as never man
spoke before. The great of the earth
wanted to be thought great by the num
ber of human victims strewn along their
pathway, and the ruin wrought on land
and sea. But that man stopped to give
a blind man sight, and to make a deaf
man hear. And He it was who said, “I
go to prepare a place for you.”
Again I stood hat in hand, for that
was my Savior, and right by my side
stood Black Sam, hat in hand, to his
Savior, and our Savior was the same
Savior—The Christ.
CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH OPIUM EATER.
JACK KIRKPATRICK.
Thomas De Quincey was an English
author of the eighteenth century. He
was a very volumnious writer, the
American edition of his works contain
ing twelve volumes. His productions are
very exact and of a philosophical nature.
Among the most remarkable of his writ
ings is “The Confessions of an English
Opium Eater.” This book contains (as
far as his word can be relied upon) a
full confession of his life as an opium
eater, written after he had entirely re
nounced the habit.
He divides the story into three parts,
namely: His Preliminary Confessions, The
Pleasures of Opium, and The Pains of
Opium. His preliminary confessions re
late to his many trials and sufferings as
an outcast in London. He is at last re
lieved by his friends and sent back to