"Hardly that, I should think. Perhaps it was on the same principle that Julius Cæsar drew his robe around him, before his death—an idea of the proprieties becoming the station they occupied. It reminds me of a passage in Pope, describing 'the ruling passion strong in death:'
"'Odious—in woollen! 'twould a saint provoke,'
(Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke;)
No, let a charming chintz and Brussels' lace
Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face;
One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead:
And—Betty—give this cheek a little red.'
And now, can you tell me who was that prophet that sent a letter to the husband of 'the good grandmother,' and who predicted the fate of her parents, Ahab and Jezebel?"
"He who did not live to see their accomplishment, and yet was not dead," said Cornelia. "Oh, I remember well about that: it was Elijah, the Tishbite, who had ascended to heaven without dying. By the way, how do you understand that saying of Elisha's, Mary—'My father, my father! the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof?' I never knew rightly whether the latter part of his exclamation referred to the ascending prophet, or to the chariot and horses of fire."
"I once asked our clergyman that very question; and he told me that it alluded to Elijah himself, and meant to say, that he was the defence of the country, and a whole host in himself: comprising cavalry, and those heavy chariots filled with warriors, and armed with scythes on either side, which did such deadly execution in ancient warfare. I suppose Elisha thought, How can I, how can our country exist without you!"