“Almost immediately afterward he left the widow standing where she was, and approaching us ‘came and touched the bier,’ and we who were carrying it stopped; for there was a sort of authority in the air and movement of this person, or let me say the effect rather than the assumption of authority. When the eyes of all were turned toward the dead body, and toward him that stood by it, the person with a mild tone, with no ceremony, with a simple utterance of the words, said, “‘_Young man, I say unto thee, Arise!_’” “And Reuben, dear Asher, Reuben!” exclaimed Miriam. “And Reuben sat up on the bier, and began to speak of the sensations which crowded upon him. “But He who had restored him to life, seemed to comprehend that the mother’s feelings should be first consulted, her rights first respected, and so ‘_He_ delivered him to his mother.’” “And he lives now?” “Yes now, and with his mother. But what an awe came upon those who witnessed that august scene. There was no shouting at the success of the effort, no cheering that human life had been restored. But with an overpowering sense of divine visitation, the people, in devout fear, kneeled, and ‘glorified God,’ saying ‘a prophet has risen up among us.’” It was not deemed safe to the convalescent Reuben that Miriam should visit him immediately. His life not his health had been restored. And the effect of a too early interview, might be too much for both. A few days afterward Salathiel conducted Miriam to the house of Reuben, and as they proceeded thither he cautioned her against the indulgence of too much feeling, lest her own frame should yield. Leading her to the door of the chamber, the young man felt that his presence would be too much of a restraint, so knocking lightly he heard a voice from within bidding them enter, and he turned and went to the mother in another part of the house. What was said by the young lovers, separated as they had been by death, and thus restored this side the grave, we shall not now repeat. It was a sublime colloquy, for it included the experience of a heart in which hope had contended against hope—and the awful experience of a soul that had been freed from the trammels of flesh. But it was still Reuben and Miriam. Death had not destroyed the identity, for the same love that had animated them in his former life was felt and reciprocated now. “I did fear, Reuben; indeed, for a moment I feared, when I heard of your restoration, that the love which had been a part of _our_ lives, would have been quenched in you by death, or sublimated beyond the uses and comprehension of earth.”