XXXVIII.

WITH ORACULAR BLUNT.

THE turf had grown green over the breast of my beloved friend, before I stood again in the Bubbleton pulpit. I had become worn down, in body and in spirit, by the incessant cares and troubles that attended me through the winter; and the exertions I had found it necessary to make, during the last few days, brought on an illness, that prostrated me for some weeks.

I was taken sick at the house of Brother Oracular Blunt, and that excellent man would not hear of my leaving the genial shelter of his roof. He was not content with placing all the comforts of his home at my disposal, and furnishing me a nurse in the person of his kind companion; but actually became my physician, and attended me with a skill that almost equalled his devotion. His collection of medicines was by no means immense, and there was, consequently, the less danger in submitting to his treatment. The names by which they were known, moreover, were singularly intelligible, though I much fear

that the fact may derogate from the medical reputation of my friend, it being one of the popular conditions of the efficacy of drugs, that they be christened in an unknown tongue.

It was one of Oracular Blunt's eccentricities, to be inveterately opposed to the medical faculty.

It was his boast that he had never lain at the mercy of a doctor, since he "attained to years of discretion,” or came to the knowledge of good and evil. Nature abhors such intermeddlers, he said, as much as a great artist would the hap-hazard stroke of a blind man's pencil, and will not act in conjunction with those who mar her perfect work. He affirmed that there is a physical, as well as a moral, idolatry. The true religion of health consists in being loyal to nature; its corruption consists in withdrawing our first allegiance, and "going after strange gods"- which are the doctors! We are suffering, bodily, what the Jews suffered who began to serve Baal and Moloch are tantalized, tortured, immolated; and, after all, the gods to whom we defer and sacrifice, render us nothing but evil.

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"Last summer," remarked Oracular Blunt, "I was taken ill, in New York, of bilious fever. I was stopping at one of the hotels. It was the hottest part of the season. Of course, it was expected that I would want a physician; but I forbade, at once, the mention of such an idea, and announced that I should take care of myself. I prepared my simple remedies,

and, securing the coöperation of one of the waiters, began to fight the fever.

"For some days, it baffled my science, and no wonder; for the whole city glowed like a furnace, under the mid-summer heat, and the noise of omnibuses and processions and screaming bands of music, made my room nearly as intolerable as Pandemonium. The landlord began to express concern for me, and. finally, a doctor who chanced to be boarding at the hotel forced himself into my presence. I told him that I did not require his services, but he clung to me like a leech, as he was. If I was not able to pay him, he said, he would attend me for nothing, as if to be killed gratis, were any inducement for one to resign his life! At last, I had to order him out of the room; and he went with a longing sort of glance, as if he coveted my frame for the experiments of his abominable trade.

"Well, within two weeks, I recovered and came home; whereas, if I had given myself up to that doctor, and taken all the execrable things he might have administered under the disguise of his bad Latin, I should either have been the victim of slow poison, for the rest of my days, or been made a candidate for dissection, at the end of six weeks.

"Now, Brother Chester," added Mr. Blunt, "I am going to defend you from destruction, as I defended myself. Having fought, victoriously, the beasts of Bubbleton-as Paul did those of Ephesus --- you must not be allowed to perish, here in D—, by the

wise blunders of our good Dr. Quackery hash. I say nothing against the man, as a citizen, or neighbor, but I should be like that worst of assassins who betrays his own guest, if I permitted him to approach you, in his professional character."

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And so Oracular Blunt, himself, became responsible for as I had already stated and I had no reason to lament the exclusion of Dr. Quackeryhash.

During the severest period of my illness, Mr. Arlington came over to see me, daily, and exhibited the kindest solicitude for my situation.

The temper of his life was changed: the sacrifice of his home's treasure was not in vain; the bereavement was hallowed to the renewing of his mind. As prosperity had perverted him, so affliction restored him to the line of duty. His nature warped and hardened in the sun-recovered its proportions and its freshness under the cloud that shed its night-rain of grief.

One of the results of this important change in Mr. Arlington, was, that his friendship for me became stronger, because better grounded, than ever. It was now intrenched within his esteem, and sanctified by the tenderest associations. He took upon himself the care and expense of procuring supplies for my pulpit, and begged that I would not think of resuming my labors, until my health should be perfectly restored.

Many other members of the parish rode out to

D,—, during my convalescence, and I received some very gratifying tokens of affection from my people.

Harry Hanson was not among those who neglected to visit me. He frequently climbed into Mr. Blunt's perch, towards sunset, and, presenting his ample figure and kind face at my couch, entertained me with all the pleasant news he had been able to gather from Bubbleton after which he went home in the evening train.

On the occasion of one of these visits, the blacksmith appeared in unusually gay spirits.

"Lord!" he exclaimed, seating himself by my bed, "what a chance you have lost, Mr. Chester ! What an enemy you are to your own prosperity! I see, plainly, that you will never serve your own interests, unless you fix your attention upon some great example of worldly prudence!

"What do you mean?" responded I,-"what chance have I lost? and how do you prove me so deplorably imprudent?"

"Listen," said Harry Hanson. "You will be awfully distressed, though, by what I am going to relate." "Never mind: I am strong now."

"It may bring on a relapse, and Mr. Blunt will have to call in Quackeryhash, at last."

"Go on, Brother Hanson."

Well, then, you must know that the Reverend Mr. Downy, pastor of the Plush-street Church, is going to Europe."

"Is that all?"