NEARLY BURIED ALIVE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2593, 23 February 1889, Page 2 (Supplement)

NEARLY BURIED ALIVE.

It wis a cold January afternoon that I was taken sick, but, hoping I would recover, no inimical aid was sunimoued. Tho following night I grew very despondent, and I seemed to feel that something unusual was going to happen. The next morning, shortly after sunrise, I felt a curious sensation in my feet, which became heavy, as if they were "sleeping." This sensation came further and further upward, and I began to think that if it were to reach my heart my life's journey would soon ho ended. Having called my family and friends about me, I told them of the fears I entertained. As they lay by my bedside praying-oh! I shall never forget those prayers—l bade them all farewell, and I tell'back paralyze.!, unuble to move even a finger or to opsn my eyes, and to everyone but myself 1 was dead. The agonies and tor turf a 1 suffered for the next three days would fill volumes, yet the horror of my situation could not be expressed. I heard the weeping and wailing of my dear wife and children, who were nearly frantic with grief. I felt the kisses of my datling little daughter as she claiiß to my bosomimploring me to speaU, and ask ad if I loved her. I heard my prattling little child pray that life would return to papa for mamma's sake. The strength of every fibre in my system I summoned, but my mouth was not open, my tongue would not move. I was imprisoned in my own body —tied down even more than if I had been placed in chains. Then came the fears of being buried alive. I heard how the arrangements for my funeral were to be made—who should bo the pall-bearers and what miuister should deliver my funeral sermon. The style of my coffin I heard discussed at length between my wife and a neighbour. I fell asleep and remained unconscious until next day. When I awoke I was being placed" in my coffin, that aweinspiring, ghastly box in which it was intended 1 should forever rest, and yet I was unable to make any sign to intimate that life still lingered in my bosom.

Many frionrls came to look at me, and as they passed by tho coffin I listened to such exclamations as, " Isn't he natural !" " Oh, doesn't ho look Hfc-liko ! " and the liko, that are so plentiful on such occasions.

On tho third day I was yet in a trance. About nine in the forenoon, so I am told, all was ready for the funeral. Into my house filed six of my friends, who transported my coffin into the hearse by the door. After a nhort time I was again taken out from the fatal carriage ; this was nt the church where tho benedictions woro to be pronounced. The church had been crowded with people when the services began. The pine boards of my colliii quivered as the deep tones of the organ and the voices of tho choir echoed through the corridors of the sanctified edifice. The dreadful music cuascd. and all was hushed sav) the heartrending sobs of my wife.

A low voico from the pulpit, which increased in volume as it prouccdr-d to review tho good phases of my life and to advise the congregation to be prepared for death, intimated that the pastor had assumed the sacred duties of his office. For fully an hour, which to me seemed an age, lie continued to paint in vivid colours the instability of fortune and the shortness of life on earth. He closed with prayer, after whieh as those who wore passing to take a. lust look at me, a mournful march, every note of which pierced my heart like a poisoned arrow, shook the windows of the ancient church.

All but the members of my family ha<

passed ins by. They wero asked to tnko ii final view "of the mortsil remains of their beloved husband and father. Grant, Heaven, that I may never survive another moment like that! As my beloved one?, who vainly tii-.id to suppress their grief-laden sobs, stood bv my he-id, I felt :i tf.-ar drop upon my cheek". Had ifc been liquid (ire it would not have caused mo such frightful pains. A vain yet de.sponilo atlumpt to open my eyes I tirioo, and more hopeless than ever my spirit sank into a deeper anguish of mortal >rricf. Onco move I lay in the

slowly moving- hearse, which was to convey mo to the cemetery two miles distant, whore an open, grave was yawning to swallow me up. The fierce wind boat tho snow against.

tho panes of glass iu my lonely couch. It was cold in the extreme, aud it, is a wonder that I was not frozen to death. Mingled with tho raging wind, the bells in yonder Church tower tolled my funeral knoll, sending shocks of indescribable grief into my wretched soul. Only tho tortures of L'romethous, on those vitals a raven continuously fed, can be compared with my sufl'ering. Once at the cemetery I was soon hoisted into iny grave -this dismal den of death —and one, two, three shovilfuls of earth were thrown upon my ecifliu. At this moment I resumed my physical strength and voice. I told them to open the coffin and I was saved. A hundred times would I rather die npon tho rack or above a alow fire than once more experience such a terrible living death.—Toronto World.