Excerpts from Daughter of Affliction [Mary Rankin (1821-1889) by Robin L Cadwallader] Recording not only stories of the people with whom she has contact but also the uniqueness of the place in which they live and the places she visits, Rankin reflects on natural phenomena, carriage rides, and train trips. "A View of the Pulpit Rocks in Winter" was written following a sleigh ride across Warrior Ridge in the winter of 1855. The Pulpit Rocks, a geological wonder hidden in the heart of Huntingdon County, were one of the "new findings" of the first geological survey of Pennsylvania funded through Act 73 of 1836 (Hoskins, par. 2). A View of the Pulpit Rocks in Winter As the king of the day descended his throne, Ere the last lingering shaft from his quiver had flown, We paused on a mount—a romantic spot, Where nature her granite in pulpits had wrought; Their drapery and cushions from the treasure of snow, Now sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight's last glow, With festoons and tassels more brilliant and fair, Than the hues which the iris or pearls ever wear. The chime of the sleigh-bells grew suddenly still, And a feeling of awe my spirit did fill, As I listened in silence to the eloquent strain, Which nature sends forth from that rocky domain. A low murmuring breeze, like an audible voice From the midst of the pulpits, now seemed to rejoice In Him, who hath said, ye winds ever blow A mystery to man, who thy pathway would know. The trees of the wood then caught the glad strain, And join'd a full chorus, which swept o'er the plain, Which stirred like a dream, as we turned to depart, The vibrating chords of my enraptured heart. [End Page 127] We glided in silence from that temple away, Whilst twilight still lingered her vespers to say, Adoring the Lord, infinite in power, Rock of our refuge, our fortress and tower. Lo! the stars come apace; in myriads they throng, And sing of creation—their ever new song. Thus rock, hill, and dale, and stars, as they shine, Proclaim to all ages a being divine. [End Page 128] (113–14) The following excerpt appears as the final paragraph in Rankin's memoir, but it is not physically the end of her book. Dated Thursday, September 1, the paragraph is part of a journal-like entry that provides one last opportunity for her to address her readers directly on the state of her physical and spiritual health, assuring them of her continued regard for them and verifying her authorship of the text. As she states in the excerpt, there is a letter to readers from one of her physicians and a small collection of her poems following this paragraph. Address to Readers And now, indulgent reader, having narrated to you the deep waters of affliction through which I have been called to pass since the publishing of the first part of the work,—some years since,—and tried to make known to you the greatness of that power and the richness of that grace which has been my support through these long years of affliction, before bidding you farewell again I will here state that as this volume closes September, 1870, I am still an invalid, confined to my couch of pain, where I have been confined exclusively for the space of six years. I am at present—thanks to a kind Providence—able to be raised to a partially sitting position in the bed, but am still unable to leave it except to be lifted from it occasionally and placed in an invalid chair whilst it is being made. And in this feeble, suffering, and prostrate condition I have written the pages which comprise the third part of this work, on which I have been employed, whenever health or strength would permit, for the space of a year and a half. At times the effort of writing, as before stated, would cause...