Neither Brandy nor Morphine.
WHEN the converts on the day of Pentecost began to tell what God had done for them, certain cavilers present at the meeting sneered, and said it was "new wine" that ailed them. There are people enough now who will admit no better explanation of spiritual fervor and high religious sensibility. A southern surgeon, in the late war, was candid enough, however, though an infidel, to see something more than artificial exhilaration in a Christian's dying triumph. One day, during the fighting around New Hope Church, three mortally wounded Mississippi soldiers were brought into the hospital together, who, by a strange coincidence belonged to the same church at home, and the same regiment in the field. What the surgeon could do for them was soon done, and they were left to the attention of the chaplain. He went from one to the other, and found them all rejoicing in the sustaining love of Christ. Their happy frame of mind and dying utterances were so striking that he called the surgeon back to look and listen. "How do you account for that, doctor?" he asked, as they stood near the cot of one of the men. "Oh, that's the effect of the dose of spirits I gave him," replied the doctor. They went to the second soldier, who lay with a smile on his face, whispering the sweet promises of God. "What is that?" asked the chaplain. "That's morphine. I gave him some an hour ago." Then the chaplain took him to the third. This soldier had been a man of marked piety, and his joy as he met death was nothing less than a devout ecstasy. There was a fortaste of Heaven on his face, and his last words were hymns of victory. This time the unbelieving surgeon had no reason of his own to give; he gazed long at the helpless but happy patient, and shook his head. "Well chaplain," said he, "I must say this time that I don't understand it. That man puzzles me. I couldn't make him take morphine or spirits. He said he wanted to die in his right mind. I tell you chaplain," he continued with tears in his eyes, "I have no faith in your religion, but when my time comes, I'd give all I'm worth to be able to die like that." That was about what Balaam said more than thirty-three hundred years ago. It is the involuntary prayer of all who despise the gospel, but covet its last blessing.