The Ohio star. [volume], December 22, 1852, Image 1

About The Ohio star. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1830-1854

Image provided by: Ohio History Connection, Columbus, OH

                
THE OHIO STAB.
PbliheA at Ravenna, Portage Co., Okio.
ITITIAN W. HALL, Proprietor.,
Tin.$ 1,50 per MDiiou
- ' - Rale of Adeertiting.
f On Square (or less) one week, 8 50
One Square, two weeks, -?"5
4 One fsqonre, three weeks, ' I
t Each lubeeqaent insertion,' -. - - - -- " "
-A Liberal ducuunt made lo those who advertise by
the year. - -
(D No paper discontinued until arrearages ere paid,
eceept at the option of the Publisher.
.BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
. Dr. J. . Willis,
Physician and Surgeon Streetsboro, Ohio;
, H Pratf, HI. D.
. PHYSICIAN , iiiVD S URGEON,
Office in F. W. Seymonr's building on the public
. - square, pearly opposite the Court House.
' J no. Doane Wellmnn, in. t.
- PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.
- OJiee on Main ttrett. No. 109.
. . ,11. II. Wait, M.
, PHYSICIAN AND RURGEQN,
' ItVE!l. Pobto Cohntv, Ohio.
17 Office at the old stand of Strealor k. Wait.
TUvenna, March 6, 1&5U. ,
1 ' Sir, St. T. Mpellnian, ;
Dentist Ravenna Ohio. "Office in Seymour's Block,
- over tlie Post Office. - 1
H. Birchard & .J. W, Tyler,' ,
. TATTY'S & COUNSELLORS AT LAW,
' Hare apreed to. become jo ntly interested in tbeir
professional business in Portage-county. They may
consulted nt Bavenna during the terms of court
r at their offices in vacation.
-Address in vacation Birchard ft SutlifT, Warren,
O., or Bircliard 4 Tyler, Franklin Mills, O.
Z. V. BISItCE, H, L. JtrFBIES.
, I Ilierce & Jeffries. ;
Attorneys at Law. Office over Swift's Drag Store, oppo
site tlie Court House.
' ... r P. W. TAPPAN,
Attorney .& Covnbrllok at Law, & So
' -' - LtciToa it Chancery.
Office nearly opposite the I'rentisa House, Ravenna. O.
(5AMLi STKAWDIK
O. 1. Krowx
.: - Slrawdcr & Rrown. . '
sVA..u t ' n - 1 rr" ai.
' CI. II. Willnril.
A TrO R A'S 1' A NO C O UXSEL ORATLAiV,.
.'-:",'r AND 60UCITOR I.V CHANCERY.
""'"'' r.. 7 - r . .. .. - i . i
AueastSl, !. . . " "3B
4. L. HAUKCr.
K. a. rari.UK
,, Ranney & Taylor
ATTORNEYS it Counsellors at Law and Solicitor
" in Chancery, Ravenna, Ohio.
iO Office over Sey raour'a store. e ...... r , ,T
Darin Lyninia.:
, ATT O K XE r AT LA IK,
; V' ' ' RAVtSSi, POBTSOE CO.. OHIO.
'" VT OiTteo m Huud's iiuiliiing. over JS.A.St R. .
Gilletl's store. - .
Kavenns, Juno 1, 1815. . ' tf-2fi
'J'. K7. R;;P- Spa idibgr.'-
Attorney at lUw Cleveland,' Cl'io OITco in l'ar
. m sons" Block Superior St rei-t. : ' '
- T , - ' i - ti - i ' -
' d.; mi.' s tm b r n a. i. e , "
I"...' . ... . ,:-; T A ILO 15. ;
(IAS removed, his shop n few dor. nest of the post
o.Tire Ravennai'Ohiu.- ". -
A& ESAfaiHcft,
" Dealers m "T)ry Goods, (rroceries. : Hardware," ;
- - - - Iron,. Nails, Glass. Ac, north side pb-'r ".'
. lie square, J'avenna, Ohio.
1 ..Dealer in Dry Ooods, Heady Mude Clothing
if " O-'orit-ries, Hardwares Iron. Nails- Crockery,
K. . Boots, Shoes &c, north side pudlic square,
' . "J Ravenna, Oliio.
RoiVCll & rjS'OjfcCI". .
. Penlcrs.in Dry &oot!s), (Groceries. Hiirdware,.,
C roc:ery, e.i M aeon's P.lock, M aio atreet,
. , Kaventia, Ohio. .'
TTVNTPiw in. Prfney Dry Goxls, Bonnets.
Hats
'.'apu. BoolB anrf Shoes. Heady Made Clothing,
Carpeting ;& at their New i'tore. Main St.,
east of the Public Sqp.are. . . .
Dealers hi D ry Goods, Groceries, Irnn. Xails
Hardware, Glass'&c. I'rnnklin. Ohio.
Dealerin Dry Goods. Groceries. Stores Hard
" ware. Iron, Nails, Glass. Ac.,' Brick Block, '
. west side public square. Ravenna, Ohio.
IS. TV Itichardson.
Dealer in English and Amenenn Hardware, Sad--
- .dle.JJarness and Oaaringe Trimming, Iron, . 1
-- Steel, Ac.. Ac; at the old stand
' f I ofManon Sf Brainerd, RavennaOhiot
- upaaajxacpiiia'J Cba3.0(sa3i0t3uasa
THK best nnd Jarg-?t assortment of Pnmphlel
LitemaMr, entertaining and unexceptionable in tone
;nd mflueneaf, embracing works from the pen of r. S.
k Arthur, Mrsi Grey. Miss Pickerine. Mr. Gore. Mrs.
. ' Mowot, Charles l ever and other dlntingnished writers,
or otTved in this market, may be found at
' Oct. 27 .. Ham.'s Book Stork.
- IRON: AND NAlLSt
A-tfJiOW PBIOBS.
A LARGE ttock for . ante in a larce or Small
'J. A. way 8V'wb"p8nl' pricea for Rr.ndy Pat.
Franklin, June 8, X852. '. ' T
T
E A The best in the connty yeu win find at .
' . '5 - OKTHOITR g,
-The State of "Ohio ,
Portage County, ."
V
Court of Probate.
Uriah Suwer, Jr.. Guardian f
to Hariaon H. Moulton, vs. Petition to sell land,
his snid ward. . J '
t. To Hanson II. Alohltnn, you nreherebyinformedthat
on the 20th day of Wotember, A. I). 1802, saidguardian
filed his petition in the I'robate Court of Portage Coun
- ty Ohio, to obtain an order for the sale ol the fuijoHins:
real estaic or ms saia waru, viz: kiiuuiw ih Dsraueiu
Portaee County, heine one imihvided third part of n
Tjartof Lot No. 4'2, west of N. and S. 50, 74 acres: also
. of one undivided third part of a part of lot No. 49. west
of M. of N. 11.07 acres, also of one undivided one fonrlh
of one fourth of one half of 26 acres of land in lot No.
41, in said township: bounded east by land late the
property of C. A. Ttiorndike, on the south hy rand late
the properly of J. M. Twichel. on the nest by highway
and said Twitchel and Sim's land, and on the north Ly
Village Lots. --
. 1 - i URIAH SAWYER, Jr., Guardian.
' By D. LYMAN. Attv.
Ravenna. Nov. 20, 1352. : . ' ' 1 195-4 w
The State of Ohio, 1 l
Portage County, ss. 1 robtt(e ourt.
.- J"" I'omh'ey, Guardian of")
Gamaliel L. Moulton. Viola I :.
- B.MouItonuanV.U.Gari- J Petition to sell land.
his said wards.- - ' I . U y .'
To Gnmaiiel L. Koalton, VSiU . Moulton and Joan
V . R. Gardner: You are herjhy uotiHedthnt on the 20th
'( November. A. 1. 1U62. aniri n..i;.. ,:i.i u: , .;
. tition in the Probate Court of Poriape Cuurty . thio, to
; obtain an order for t-TT sale of ihevflrfwing real estate
vi ui luii "nnllleia rortapc Coun
; t T, the said Gamaliel l'oulton anu Viola B. Moulton.
, owning eacli an nnoiviuyono unru part of a part or lot
No. 42. west of N. and JLa0.74 acres: also of
. divided one third partof apartofLotNo.49,westof M.&
N.U 'U7acres;alsoof one undivided one fourth part of one
i, fourth of 26 acres of land, more or less; on Lot No. 41
in mii tonroahio. bounded east by land late the nrnner.
tv at Charles A. Thorndike, on the south by land loaie
;;.he property of i. M.. Twitchel, on the west by high
" wav and mill Twicheland Sim's land, and on lhe north
' by VillaueLon- nnd that the saiil J.V. K. Gardner owned
one undivided one fourth, and one undivided one fourth
v of one fourth of said 26 acres of land on said i.ouo. ti
JOHN FOUSHlY, Guardian to
. . . Gamaliel L. Moultoh,
; Viola B. Moultow, -
Joar V. R, UAjpDJiF.ti
Ravenna, Nov. 20, 1852. '
1195-4
rfl INGHtMH. A few pieces of Dark Ginghams, a
e u, ucie tat Hi cenis, jusi rec a at , - .
"Oc, 85. ,. G,lL""-
VOLUME XXIV Nomber 3.
From. Pcterton s Magazmt.
I am so Tfonngr."
" BT KABGASET JC5KIV.
So young ! oh, Death, withhold thy dart, '
Look on my chilJish brow ;
- Cruel and cold must be thy heart.
To speed thine arrow now.
- So young! so full of hopes and joys -
' With soul so fresh and free.
Such a glad Iistner to the voice
Of Nature's miDstrilsy !
So young ! so all untouched by oare --"
Ob, take me not away,
.While life appears too sweetly fair
To yield before decay.
It is not that I loathe the thought,
. - Though sad it be of death ; .
v Foremen my infancy was taught.
That he who gave my breath "
Might justly clnim the gift again.
Whene'er it was His will ;
And I wbo bowed submissive then,
Would bowe submissive still.
But ah, so young ! I could not dream
I should be culled to die,-
While the reflection of life's stream
Gave back my morning sky !
I feel there is a wealth of power '
Deep hidden in my breast ,
A priceless undeveloped dower,
' That fills me with unrest.
And when my poul in trembling hope.
Her fledgling wings would fry,
Death sternly bids me fold them up,
And lay me down and die! :
r I f. mdy traced a nath of light -In
which I hope to soar -'With
an unchecked, unwearied flight ' "
But now, my hope are oVr.-
I proudly thought to leave a name
Writ with a luminous pen ; -. ;
Upon the plorious page tf fume
" But ah, the. thought was vaiu !-
Tis very sorrowful to die
While I am still fo youpjr
- To lay my minstrel burp-strings by, '
. And leave so much unsung!
Ye- T must pas? nwiiy rom enrt!,
Yot wherefore shed n tear? ;"
t My spirit owns, n Ilenvpnly birth -.
Its fire was kiuJled there.
. Unsullied, purlfiad, forgiven, t "
This nencliless''i'p:irk within
' Will ga'lirr ns lhefountF Ilenven "'.
New light wilhvviiich to shine. :: " ' '
- .: :oy.
Fame, earthly fmo"no more s-haH rise ".
' " Before me ns my gotl; ----- : -
Ambition luftj as the tkiea ,
! Sha I halltiwall. my souU . .
Too young? oh, not too ybun? to die I
The thought was strangely wrong;
Earth' liltlo ones'' the nflenest try
' ' The angels' glorious song.
" If mortal strains baye power to stai t
A joy naught efcet lialh g'ven
-..What , eeV'cy wi.'j(iliri!l niy heart :
- Amid tbe harpS of Her.veu! .. . .......
.,.Then willl murmur ro', iTt' some . -Poor
lays-are If ft unsung ; x
But thank my God, he calls me home
While 1 urn very young! ' - - '.-
INS IT B0KD I NAT ION:
- ok, i . . :
iO rurrnrmi
s.;
Ao American Mori of Real Life.
C ' BY T. S. ARTHUR. - '
fEntered aocordinsr to an act of Commas, in the wear
184& bv T. B. Peterson, in the office of the Clerk of the
District Court of tlie United States, in and for the Eastern
District of Pennsylvania.
Published iaths Ohio Star by express pJralssion.
.' - ; (Continued-)
CHAPTER IV.
A SEW CHARACTER INTRODUCED.
4 Here, Jim, run to Mr?. Enrnest's with those
uppers,' and tell her I want "ctn closed and bound
as quickly as possible," said Mr. Hardnmer, hand
ing a bundle to his smallest boy, who took it, and
ran off at full speed.
.. Mr. Hardumor wants these began little Jim,
as he was always called in the shop, on entering
Mrs-Earnest's roiin; but he stopped short on
perceiving her daughter Anoe, seated in a chair
weeping violently.
What's the matter, Miss Anne V he asked,
after a moment's pause, going up to her side.
Anne had ahv.iys been kind to him, and he liked
her very. much. For a few moments the weeping
girl made no answer to the inquiry of her little
tnenuv . -
'Q, Miss Anne, what is the matter?' again ask
ed the boy, bis own eyes fi.ling with tears.
' Where is your mother V -
' She is dead !' murmured the girl, sobbing more
violently.
" O no, Miss Anne !' But his eye turned invol
untarily lowarJs the bed, nnd perceived the pale
death-stricken face of Mrs. Earnest. Bursting
into tears, he leaned his bead against the chair, on
which Anne wa3 sitting, nnd we$ t with her. He,
too, bad lost a friend in Mrs. Earnest. For, since
the death of his mother, she was the only one he
had met, who seemed to care for him with some
thing like a maternal regard. '
Mrs. Enrnest had long beert m feeble health, and
bad been wasting away for years in aeluw decline
But death came more BudJeuly than had been ex
pected. Her busbandr a physician, who had not
succeeded in obtaining a very largo practice, hnd
been dead for many years. In dying, he had left
his intelligent wife, with ono daughter, about six
years old. The little that he bad been able to ac
cumulate, did not last the widow long, and Mrs.
Earnest was soon thrown upon her own resources,
for a support for herself and child. By careful
economy, and constant industry, she had .contrived
to keep her head above water, and, at the game
time, to sond her child tj scbr.il until she was
eleven cr twolve yeni s ol nge. About this time she
began to leel seriously the inroads of a concealed
but futal disease, and it becaino necessary to lax
Anne's young strength and patience in daily toil
with her needle. -
ii
A Family Kewtpaptr, Devottd to General Intelligence, Sisrellaccous Cccdics, and the Eights of San.
The little girl, who bad a deep affection fur ber
mother, and bad often been led to notice the weari
ness and evident pain with which she toiled on
from day to day, gladly entered upon the task al
lotted ber, and, though often fatigued and restless
from long application, she never complained.
Year, after year passed away, and, from one
kind of work to another, they bad changed, until,
at last, they confined themselves to closing and
binding shoes, as requiring less of wearisome appli
cation than ordinary sewing. At this they man
aged to support themselves comfortably, for their
wants were few.
I must go, M'ss Anne, said the little boy, lift
ibg bis bead from the chair against which be bad
leaoed it. Me. Hardliner 'ii beat me if 1 stay
long.'
Poor child !' ejaculated Anne, forgetting, fjrthe
moment, her owo sad condition. I'm afraid yon
have a hard time of it, Jimmy.' .
O no, Miss Anne, not very. Only, I'm beat
so, sometimes. But, I must run back. I'll come
again to-night.'
Do come, I ehall want to see you,' and as the
pale, sorrow-stricken face of the child disappeared.
her own thoughts went hack again to tlie keen af
fliction she had been called to endure. But a few
minutes bef ire the little boy came in, her mother
had heaved her last sigh, and she was, now, friend
less, and clone with the dead. For nearly an
hoar she sat in almost perfect abandonment of feel- i
ing, but a sense of tlie duty yet left to her to per- i
torm towards all that remained of her mother,
roared her from her stupor, and she called in a
kind neighbor, who, w'.th others, assisted in the last
sad offices of preparing the dead for burial. .
On the evening after the funeral, Anne found
herself all alone, in the room where for years she
had been used to see the dear face, and hear the
kind words of her mother. And she was not only
alone, but friendless. There were none to whom
she could look for protection, and no pi ice to which
she could go, and call it her home. While busy
with sad thoughts, and painful forebodings, the boy
who had brought the work the day before, came
in. He was but a small boy, and she was in the
early bloom of womanhood, but his face was, to her,
a welcome one.
. 'Good evening, Miss Anne,' he said, enteiing
without ceremony. . ,
' How do you dn, Jimmy ? I'm glad to see'yoo,
for I f,;el very lonesome.'
'I thought you wouIJ ba lonesome, and so I
came',' repl.ed the little follow, in simplicity of
hear'.-
' You're a very goid boy Jimmy, to remember
pie, now I'm in trouble.'
i' I can never forget you, Migs Anne, for. when
every body beat me, or made fun of me, you were
always good to me, and just Irke my sister, that's
been dead, O, so long !' And the boy stood be
fore her, with tlie teats streaming down his cheeks,
as he thought of those who, while living, loved him
and oared for h'm. ,
' You had a sister, then, Jimmy 2' said Anne,
forgnful of her own affliction, in sympathy for the
sorrow of the chdj. - ' '"'
O, yes. And she was so good to me ! But
she was sick a'long time, and when mother died,
there was no one to take care of ber. X was a
l;tt!e, little boy, and couldn't do nothing. And so
.the peop'e put us into a cart, and sent us out to
the poor-house. There they took sisteri and put
her in a room full or sick people, and wouldn't let
me stay With her. I cried and cried, to stay with
her, nnd then' they beat me so hard With a slick ;
and the m in snid he'd kill me, if I didn't hush". I
was iitiiuJ to cry loud after th'it, but I med to lay
awake most all n:glit long, sometimes, a thinking of
si-tor, and crying ait to myself. 'Mayn't I seo
sister ! O, please let me see sister !' I snid to the
man, after I d been there eight or nine days. ' He
braked at me cross for a while, and then he said,
a little easy, and didn't look so cross, that if I'd be
good boy, nnd not cry any more, for the tears
were running down my cheeks all I could do to
help it,tbt I should see her the neit day. All
that niglO-L-sIept but little, thinking about seeing
sister ; and I tried not to cry, but I cried all the
-while. ' ; .
rcext morning I was up so early it was hard
ly daylight, and I waited and waited for the man
lo cbmn and take me td see sister. But hour after
hour passed away, after breakfast, until dinner
time came ; and I hadn't seen her yet. Two or
three times the man came into the mom,' but 1
was afraid to say anything to htm, for fear ho'd be
angry. But I looked him in the face as wishfully
as 1 could, though he didn't take no notice of me.
It was most night when he came in again, and he
walked about the room as unconcerned as if no
bo ly's heart was a'most breaking, like mine was.
Every minute I expected him to call me to go and
see sister ; but be didn't seem to remember bis
promise. When he turned to go out, I thought I
couldn't stand it any longer, and so I went right up
to him, and putting up my hands, as if I was going
to say my prayers, said ' O sir, do let me see my
sister !' Ale turned around so cross on me for
moment, and then looking towards the woman who
took care of our room, said, ' Here, take this brat
in to sea bis sister,' and whirled around quick, and
went out of the room.
The woman looked at me as if she didn't care
whether she did or not, then she caught hold of
my arm and said ' Come along, and be quick too!'
She almost dragged me along the passages, and up
stairs to the sick room where my sister was. But
I didn't mind that. All I cared about was seeing
sister; and in a moment or two I was by her side.
0 how much paler and thinner she was! And her
big bright eye3 looked into my face strangely.
But she was so glad to see me ; and took me in
her arms and hold me tight to her bosom, and kiss
ed my fnce till over. And then the tears rolled
down her cheeks, and she shut her eyes, and was
still fur a good mnoy minutes, but her lips, moved
all the while. 'Come, that'll c!o." said the wo
man, 'I've no time to be fooling hero,' and sho took
hold of me to pull me away. Sister, she looked so
anxiously into the woman's face, but it didn't tlo
no good, for her heart wa9 cold and hard. - Let
him come ng.iin, won't you ?' sa d sister, in a low
voice. ' I don't know that I will, you make such a
fusa over him,' said the woman, and lifting me
down from the bed, Bhe dragged me away.
I didn't do nothing but cry all that niht, and
all the next day, too, and the man snid, if I didn't
hush, he'd half kill me, aud said I shouldn't see
my sister any more, if that was the way I acted.
1 (topped crying all at once ; that i, outside, hut I
seemed to be cf. ing inside all lhe while. In
about two weeks more I got eu impatient to see
sister, that f made bold to ask the ninn ngain.
' What's that !' said the woman, who heard me.
' Jim wants to see bis sister again,' said the man.
RAVENNA, WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 22.
He's a fool, said the woman, ' his sister's been
dead these ten days.' '
I didn't cry nor say nothing, Miss Anne ; but
I can't tell you bow I felt. I wanted to die too.
O, it would have seemed so good, if I could have
died. I staid there a good while, when Mr. Hard
anter came out one day, and said he wanted a
boy ; nnd then they bonnd me to him. He and
Mrs. Hardamer eooIJ me, and beat me so much,
that I sometimes wish I was dead, aud then I
should be with mother and sister.'
The poor little fellow now covered bis face with
his hands, and sobbed violently, while the tears
trickled fast through his fingers. For some time,
Anne's affliction was all absorbed in her sympathy
for her little friend; but this gradually subsided,
and she felt keenly her desolate condition.
'What are you going to do. Miss Anne?' said
the boy to ber, after his own feelings had revived a
little from their great depression.
' Indeed, Jimmy, I don't know what I shall do.'
I heard Gertrude say this morning, that they
wanted somebody to come there and sew. I wish
you'd come ; I know they'd like you.
' I will think about if, Jimmy ;' she said.
But, may be, Miss Anne, they'll get somebody
ebe if you doa't speak quick. Won't you come
to-morrow, and see about it.
'I don't know, indeed, Jimmy; lean tell best
after I have thought about it.' . . -
' O, 1 wish you would come !' said the little boy,
as he thought mora seriously of the matter. 'I
would be so b ippy.' .
. The earnest desire expressed by her humble
friend, and the sympathy she felt for him, influen
ced the decision of Anne in a good degree. On
the next day she called on Mrs. Hardamer, and an
arrangement was soon entered into for ber to come
and sew for a dollar and a half a week.
This happened about the time of Genevieve's
abandonment by her husband. The circumstan
ces of her marriage and desertion were noised
about among the particular class of individuals who
nre interested in such matters ; and, as it was very
well known Mint the girls held their heads a little
too high, it afforded a subject for no little ill-natured
gossip. Some few pitied, while others secretly
rejoiced at the bad firtune of Genevieve. As
soon as her parents ascertained t'jat Anderson had
fairly gone off, they took her home, but evince 1
little sympathy for her condition. Mn. Hardam
er, Genevra, and Gertrude, .were too deep'y mor-
ified to regard her feelings.. All hope cf aa ele
vation of tha family by her marriage was cut off.
She was irrevocably tied to a worthless fellow.
from whom thoy had only to expect disgrace and
annoyance. Any scarcity of gallants, was sure to
bo charged, by the gills, upon Genevieve.
It's all owing to your miserable connection with
that fellow, said Genevra to her, ono evening.
alts r having sat up f r company, all fut belowed off,
in vain. ' No man th'it fhiaks nny thing of himself
is going to marry either Gertrude or me, now
you've brought such disgrace upon the family.'
I wish tbe puppy'd been in the North Pula, be
fore he came about here,' added Gertrude. ' 1
always knew he was anjmpostor.'
Y'es, and Ganesieve nvght have known it,
too, resumed Genevra, ' if she hadn't been so
mau lor a iiu!naiw,jf!it l reckon alia s got
enough of it; and I can't say that I'm much sorry,
either, if it wasn't for the disgrace lo the family.'
Genevieve made no reply to these cruel re
marks; but they entered her heart. She was too
deeply nlfl'cted to fael resentmeut, and ehe knew
it would be of no use ,to complain. Anne Was
present when the, remaiks were made, nnd she at
once retired to her .chamber. - Thero Ehe was
soon followed by Genevieve, who had been assign
ed a portion of Anne's bed. She was not consid
ered worthy to occupy the same room with her
two grown-up sisters; and she, by no means, re
gretted the banishment. ..
Anne was seated at a small table reading, when
Genevieve came in; nnd, as the latter at once sat
down by the window, and leaned her head upon
ber arms, she read on. la a few minutes, she was
conscious that Genevieve was weeping bitterly.
Closing the volume, which was none other than the
Holy Word, she drew near to Genevieve, and,
with a tender concern, which could not be misun
derstood, took her hand, and said :
When all our friends forsake us, there is One
who still looks kindly upon us, and loves us.'
Genevieve made no answer ; but tbe tears fell
faster, and she sobbed' mo. e convulsively.
'It is only through affliction, Mrs. Anderson,'
continued Anne, that we can know ourselves.
And this knowledge, if we make the right us of it,
is worth all we suffer. In allour sorrows, there
is One who stands very near, and permits the sor
row to come upon us. Our Heavenly Father loves
us with a deeper and a wiser love than ourearth
ly parents possibly can love us ; and, surely ue
will let nothing harm us, if we will look up to him
in child-like confidence and subnrssion.'
Genevieve grew calmer, and seemed to listen
with deep attention. " Anne continued :
. . All affliction is for good. When we fall into
these deep waters, we should not despair, but look
into our owo hearts, nod see if we cannot find some
evils there which we could not have perceived
without the affliction. Aod, most certainly, my
dear madam, we shall not look in vain. When we
see that there is an evil there, that has ruled too
slavishly our former life, and been, perhaps, the
real cause of our present sorrow, it is for us to try
and withdraw our love froi that evrl, and to en
deavor to put it nwny. If we do this with a sin
cere effort, and nt the same time ask our Heaven
ly Father to take it away, because it is offensive to
bim, it will be removed entirely, or, in a degree
corresponding with the sincerity of our denre to
have it removed.' Do you understand me, Mrs.
Anderson ?'
By this time, Genevieve hnd censed to weep,
and was listening with earnest attentiun. She re
plied, in a low tone :
' Not altogether, Anne; but what you say sounds
as if it might be true. 1 have nevui heard any body
talk so before. Bur, I am very miserable, Oh, I
am very miserable!' and she clasped her hands to
gether, and again burst into tears. This lime, she
laid her bend upon Anne's shoulder. For a few
minutes, the latter made no attempt to check the
current tS her feelings ; but, as Geuevieve grew
more composed, she said . ..
There can no more bo pain of mind, without
mental disease, than there can be pain of body
without bodily disease. The pain is simply a call
for some ronicdy. If there were no pain, exter
nally or interrmlty, in either case, thu individual
might die suddenly, naturally, or spiiilu:dly, with
out having been conscious of the esi.-teuco' of nny
disease. This pain that we feel is, then, a merci
ful provision ; and we ought always to consider,
1852.
seriously, what it means, and profit by the lessons.
You say you feel miserable; if all were right with
in, you could not feel miserable.
But who could feel happy, Anne, under all the
circumstances that surround nie. Forsaken by my
husband, and treated unkindly in my father's
house.' And again she gave way to a flood of
tears. "'
'That is to bo expected, Mrs. Anderson,' said
Anno, after a pause of some moments, in which
Genevieve grew calmer. 'The man who suffers
with a violent pain, cannot be indifferent to it, sim
ply because it makes him conscious that he has a
disease, brought on by some particular art of indis
cretion; but, then, it may discover to him, in its
true light, the folly that brought on the disease, and
cause bim to avoid it in future.' So, in the case of
great mental agony, arising from circumstances of
affliction. By it, we at e enabled too see that we
have acted from wrong motives, and thus blindly
ruo into trouble; or, we have cherished in our hearts
a false estimate of things, and loved them with a
selfish love; and, when they have been removed,
there has been nothing upon which we could lean
for comfort. Such discoveries, followed by a cor
rection of long-formed, evil habits of the mind, se
cure for the future a measure of true happiness.'
'Anne,' snid Genevieve, lifting her bend nnd look
ing her young adviser in the' face, with something
of surprise and admiration, 'you area strange girl,
different from nny that 1 have ever met. Whoro
did you leurn these things, that sound so much like
truth;' and yet, are to me new, and a'most incom
prehensible?' 'Iliad a good mother,' rep'ied Anne, her voice
trembling as she named the dear maternal name,
and she had known much sorrow. In the school
of affliction, she learned wisdom. I loved that
mother,' again her voice trembled, ' and knew
that whatever she told ine was truth. The nature
and cause of affliction she taught me ; and, since
she has been removed from me, I have found
them blessed lessons. But, it must never be for
gotten,' Mrs. Anderssn, while thinking of these
ihmgs, thatapnrt from a teligious principle of obe
dience to the Lord, we never can be happy.
Tho lord is our creator aud our father; and, as
our father, loves ns with an unspeakable love. In
his Word, he hns fold us in what way we should
act to be happy. These laws are. not merely
laws, but aro grounded in love and wisdom; and
any departure from them, es a natural conse
quence brings misery. This misery is not a pun
ishment direct from our heavenly father, sent in
anger for our disobedience ; But is, as 1 have said,
the natural consequence of a depnrtno from the
laws of right action, founded in infinite love and
wisdom. ' -
But what nre these laws, Anne? I have nev
er read the Bible. I nm sure I should he glad to
know them.' ' - . ,
' Have you never read the ten commandments?'
' Certainly I havo. But I hive never, habitual
ly, broken them.'
Perhaps you have never thought much about
them.' " " - " '
' No, I cannot say thnt I have ' J
Do you remember what the Lord says in the
Word, about the commandments?'
' No, I do not at this moment.
' Don't you recollect where he says, that upon
the commandment to love the Lord with all your
hearts, and our neighbor, as ourselves, hangs all the
law and prophets?' -"
O, yes; I remembor that. 1
'But I expect you bavo never thought much
about it.' '
No; I cannot say that I have.'
Well, then; Mrs. Anderson, here is the law,
any departure from which will make us unhappy.'
' But no one, Anne, lives up to this law.
It is a broad saying. Mrs. Anderson, but a
true one, that no one in this world is happy. And
here is the secret of unhappioess.'
Genevieve was silent, and Anna proceeded : v
In just the degree that we love ourselves more
than we love the Lord, nnd that we love the world
more than wo love the neighbor, will wo depart
from the trae law of love, and find misery instead
of pleasantness. That we all do depart, in a great
er or less degree, from this Inw of love, is evi
denced in the uohappiness which we all feel. In
some, the departure is very great, nnd the conse
quences are deeper nnd mote painful. In others,
there is a process of apprflximation going on, and
a desire existing, to conform in all things to this
lady; these have a more even mind, and a more
contented disposition, it is tr.ie they have their
seasons of pain; but they understand its Datuie,
and profit by their knowledge.'
' I cannot say,' Anne,' replied Mrs. Anderson,
that I can understand all thnt you have spoken.
It seems 89 if it might all be true. But 1 never
could believe it possible to love onr neighbor as
ourselves. It is not natural.'
We must, in the first place,' snid Anne, 'be
willing to believe thnt our Heavenly Father knows
better than we do what is right. When we es
tablish this belief in our minds, then he will have
some degree of willingness to obey, even though
we cannot understand. So soon as we,from a right
principle of obedience, attempt to shun what we
are told is wrong, we shall soon begin to perceive
why it is wrong. In this way we shall gradually
be brought to know how it is possible to love the
Lord and the neighbor better than ourselves or
the world; nnd, from knowing, desire to bavo that
pure love formed within us.'
But what has this to do, Anne, with my pres
ent affliction, and how can it remedy it ?'" ,
' As a genoral jirinoiple, Mrs. Anderson, it has
much to do with it. But you ennnot, in all proba
bility, see it in your present state of mind. Still,
if you have any desire to do what is pleasing to our
Heavenly Father, nnd will begin, by doing, or I ly
ing to do, what you see to be right, you will soon
perceive how much iuteiest you will really havo in
the subject."
' But how shall I begin, Anne ?'
' Aro you ever conscious of acting or thinking
wrong ?'
' Yes; almost every day !'
' And this doing or thinking wrong always makes
you feel more unhappy ?' ,
' Always.'
'Then the way is plain before you. As soon as
you are conscious of wishing to do wrong, or indul
ging in wrong desires nnd airections,then shun such
thoughts and desires ns evil, and, therefore, sins.
ngninrt the Lord; and pnriioulaily refrain, upon
the same principle, from bringing out into action,
and thereby confirming thorn, theso evil thoughts
or nfl'.ictiona, and.jou will then be doing all that is
required of you.. Tranquility of mind, suoh as you
have never known, will succeed these .efforts, If
you persevere in thorn, looking all the while to the
Whole Number 1199
Lord for kid. Don't look at anything but yonr
present duty. Let every thing else take oare of
itself; In to doing, you will find that every day
will bring its peculiar duties; and in their perform
ance, you will find an internal satistaction, of which
np out wnd circumstances can rob you.
I will try to do right, Anne; will you help mo!'
Even as I would help my own sister.'
'You are kinder to me than my own sisters,
said Genevieve, feelingly, looking with tearful eyes
into the fuce of Anne. 'And now I can perceive,
in some degree, what is meant by loving thy neigh
bor, nnd how much happiness most flow from it.
I am nothing to you, Anne, and yet you seem to
love nm, nnd care for me more Uirb those who are
of my owo blood. This cannot be selfish love. Tt
must be a love for my good. And. as the true
idea' dawned dimly upon ber, nnd touched her;
heart, by its application to herself, as an object of
that love, her feelings again gave way, and she laid
ber head upon tlie breast of ber new-found friend,
and wept aloud. ".'""'
Under lhe kind and constant direction and ad
monition of Anne Earnest Genevieve was enabled
to bear, with a degree of meekness and forbear
ance, the neglect of ber parents, and the open un
kindness of her sisters; and this change in her dis
position, was not long in being observed by her pa
rents, nnd softening their hearts towards her.
Month after month passed away, but she had no
tidings nf her husband. As the peiiod of their sep
aration became more and more extended, oblitera
ting the remembrance of unkindness, and warming
up tho love thnt had been felt for bim, Genevieve
became more and more desirous to hour from him,
nnd once more to be with him. But, in this, it
seemed ns if she were not to be gratified, for there
came no tidings for her anxious heart.
Gertrude and Genevra, in the pride of conscious
superiority, looked upon Anne ns far beneath them.
Though she was tall and beautifully formed, with
n face expressive cf great loveliness of character,
they could see nothing in her that was not vulgar.
She was not suffered to sit at the table with the
family, but was assigned the charge of that at which
the boys eat. To this she had no particular objec
tion, as she soon perceived that her presence had
a very great effect upon the apprentices, and that
after the first few days their ludeness at the table
gradually subsided. They soon showed a disposi
lion to talk to her in a respectful manner, and, not
unfrequently, referred to her the decision of little
matters upon which tbey hnd disputed. It was a
glad day for little Jimmy, when he saw her take
her place at the table. Although she could nor
change tbe quali'y of their food, materially, yet
she could, in a great measure, see thnt it came up
on the table in proper order. She saw that the
cook did not allow their coffee or tea to get cold;
and, by rsing very early in the morning, and see
ing how things went on in tho kitchen, nnd looking
in there, tco, at night, she managed to have a good
many things, in the preparation of their food, at
tended to, that added to their comfort; particularly
in the prevention of large quantities of corn bread
from being baked up by the lazy cook, which they
would bo forced to eat cold, day after day, she made
their fire much pleasanter. The necessity of liv
ing upon the same coarse food that they did, was
not one thnt rendered ber at all unhappy, as she
could, in submitting to this privation, make it more
agreeable for them.
Among tho many young men who visited, occa
sionally, at the house of Mr. Hardamer, was the
only son of a rich fanner, who had reoently come
to the city and opened a store on Market street.
His nime was Illerton. He had made but few
acquaintances since his removal to tbe city, nnd,
among jliese, happened to be Genevra nnd Ger
trude. Usunlly about.once every week he drop
tied in and spent an evening with them; but, as he
was a young man of fine education and lino princi
ples, ho did not become much interested in either
of the young ladies. Still, as time frequently hung
heavy on his hands, and he was fond of cultivating
tne social ieelings, tie continued to drop ia pretty
regularly.
It so happened that he called in. one evening,
when both of the girls were out. He was shown
op stairs into the parlor by the black servant, who
either did not know or care anything about the girls
not being in, and who went back direct to the kitch
en, without taking the trouble to make any inqui
ries. Anne, who of course never went into the
parlor when there was company there, and rarely
at other times, was, on this evening, sitting there
alone, at the centre-table, reading. She rose at
the entrance of Illerton, who, surprised and de
lighted at seeing so sweet a face, though that of a
stranger, begged her to be seated. With easy po
liteness she resumed her choir, remarking, at tho
same time, thnt she was sorry to toll him that the
yonng ladies had gone out for the evening.
There was something in the face of Anne that
charmed Illerton, the moment he saw her, and her
low voice, that trembled slightly, sounded to him
more musical than any voice be had ever heard.
For some time be endenvored to draw hor into
conversation, but, although every reply she made
charmed him more and more, he could not suc
ceed in getting her to converse freely. Her re
serve be easily understood to be the naturally mai
den reserve of a pure minded woman towards a
perfect stranger. Illerton was a man who readily
understood character, and rarely came to fulse eon
elusions in reference to any one. After sitting for
nearly half an hour, much longer than his own
sense of propriety told him he ought to have lin
gered in ber company, under the circumstances,he
rose to depart.
You must pardon me,' he said, 'for having, so
long, being altogether a stranger, intruded upon
your company. My only excuse is, that I have
been interested.'
It is no intrusion upon me, sir,' replied Anne,
and if, in the absence of the young ladies, I have
succeed in making your visit a pleasant one, I can
only be gratified.'
You must pardon me another net of presump
tion,' said Mr. Illerton, smiling; 'I did not know
that you resided, as Jou have intimated, in this
family. May 1 beg to know your nama?'
'My name is Anne Earnest, sho replied, mod
estly, wh.le a slight blush deepened the color on
her cheek.
'1 must again beg pardon for this seeming rude
ness,' he said, and bowiug low, be bade ber good
evening, and withdrew.
Illei ton could only suffer a single evening to pass,
before again calling. On entei iog the porlor, this
time, bis eye glanced rapidly nround, but none
were present, save Gertrude and Genevra, -who
received him with all the interesting airs and gra
ces they could put on. But in vain did they talk,
and sing, and thrum the piano for his especial edi
fication. He could not feel the slightest interest
in them. '
How sorry I was that we were not at home .
when you called last,' said Genevra, daring a flag
ging pause in the conversation. 'We were so dig-;
appointed when we learned: tbat'yod had been
hei e.' ' " " . . ; . -j
r... irv ,. ui -
" " "gi obuuib companion to
compensate Mr your aosence,' Be replied in a live-slier
tone: 'Why, you never told me that a Miss
Earnest was staying with you. . Where does ah ,
keep herself? I should really like to see her, and
apologize for my rudeness in spending half an hour;
with her. although a perfect stranger.' ; t
Ha! ha! ha." laughed out Genevra 'that is a
good one! Why she's only a girl that 'Ma hires.
to sew. How could you have been so deoeived?
I shall have to tell 'Ma to keep her out of the por.v
lor, the forward minx! . I am mortified, though.io
deed, Mr. Illerton, that one of our hirelings should;
have push ed herself into your company. But it
shall never happen again.' ' ' . ..- j
. To this speech Illerton was at a perfect loss for
a reply. He had often heard of accomplished vir
tne in obscurity. -Here was an instance, be could
not doubt, for be could not believe himself mista
ken in bis impressions. Every movement, every
word, every varying impression of Anne's couhte- '
nance, he remembered, as distinctly as if she Were-,
still sitting before him; and the remembrance only,
added to his admiration. He felt indignant at hear-i .
ing her designated, sneeringly, as the hireling of
girls who were in every thing her inferiors. ' But.
he did cot, of couse, give form to bis thoughts; be
merely said '
'Don't check her or speak unkindly to her ofl
my account, for, I assure you, she acted with mod
esty and propriety. She was reading in the parlor -when
I entered, and rose to go out, 1 suppose,
when I insisted upon' ber being seated. It was my
fault, not hers.'
'But, it's annoying to have sewing girls pushing
themselves in the way of gentlemen who visit here,
We must, hereafter, insist upon her keeping in ber
own room, said Gertrude, rather warmly. '.. V
- Illerton was constrained to oppose this unfeeling
resolution, but he forced himself to be silent, and,
soon after, took his leave. ;
iDid you ever hear of such a thing! exclaimed
Genevra, cs the front door closed after him. . . -'I'm
mortified to death!' resdonded Gertrude.;:
'The pert, forward hussy!' ejaculated Genevra.
'If ever she tries such a trick as that again, she
walks out of tills house in a jiffy!' added, Gertrude.
What an Idea! An agreeable half-hour, spant -
with our hired girl!' broke io Genevra. ?
'I expect he's mortified to death, and I'm afraid
he'll not come any more. How could you laugh
right out eo, when he mentioned Anne?' said Ger
trude. -' - , ' '
Because I couldn't help if; it was such a queer
joke.' - . .
Well, I can tell you, it was very rude,' replied
Gertrude, warmly, whose fears were a good fieal
excited at the bare idea of losing Illerton, as a bean.
T .,1. .1. . ' c i .. ,'
uuuuu uio luuiticreuuu ut iier sister, in rauguing -at
bim. ' -"' '
Fiddle-sticks! Your ideas of propriety bave
grown very nice, al! at once! responded Genevra.
'I wish yours were a little nicer, that's all I've
got to say,' rejoined Gertrude. '---' .
Well, I can tell you, Miss, that I know what is)
right nnd proper as well as you do, replied Gen
evra, tartly, and have no notion of being called to
account by you. So you may just shut up!' ; "
'I'll call you to an account whenever I please,
Miss Touchy!' said Gertrude, growing more' ex
cited. You are a rude, forward girl, let me fell
you! and. have driven more company from the
house than your neck's worth, so you have! I'll
complain to Ma, so I will!' she continued, more
excited.." ' " ' - "''
' 'Will you. indeed? ah thnt will be interesting,
said Genevra, with a sneering laugh. - "
iPfim.! YtTtin,'- ,tia mn,A tt.M .nn-? T
uiu.o in iio. iiniutmioi, wuu iiuu uddu atumtcH.
from tbe next room, by the loud voices of her
daughters. v ' " . -.
Why, you see began Gertrude; but she was
interrupted by Genevra, before she could utter an
other syllable, with ' i " ' ' .
:It's no such thin?. Ma. it was' ' ' "'
i !. :n a, M T.r , i i i ....
0. --
It was!' broke in Gertrude. , ' " ' " ' '
It wasn't no such thing, now,' said Genevra.'
'Both of you hush up at once! said the mother,
'But, Ma . " .- ' ' :
'Listen to tnr. Ma.' . .
'Don't I tell you to hush! - ' '
'It was all Anne's fault, Ma, said Genevra, not
at all inclined to obey the maternal injunction of
silence. -
What about Anne?? asked Mrs. Hardamer. ?
Why, you wouldn't 'a'thought it, Ma.' contin
ued Genevra, 'but it's as true as death! Night be-,
fore last, when Mr. Iilorton called her,(Avne was V
stuck up in tbe parlor, and the forward thing had --
the boldness to keep him there for half an hour or .
Bn folL-tnt. t-n he. me, n a i f .1,. to. n n .Am.rbu!. .
w.r, ... 1.111. .... 1 , juc 1. DIIU 17 fij BUlllDUWII-
And here, this evening, he must ask for Miss Ear-
nest! I was so much amused that I laughed right
out, and told him that she was only onr hired sew-
ng girl. And Gertrude is mad because I laughed.
'Is it possible that Anne was guilty of such on-
pardonable presumption?' ,'.-.
'Yes. it ia so! BeeaiiRA Genevieve, aIwwmaa fA
make a companion of her, she thinks she is aa good
as we are. But I can tell ber that she's mightily
mistaken" - ' ' " ",
'The pert, forward ' bus! ejaculated Mrs.
Hardamer, with a strong expression of disgust at
the idea of one of her hirelings sitting up to enter
taih her daughter's company. ' " . '
Ring the bell for Millie! she added, and Gen
evra rung the parlor bell.
'Tell Anno to come here, she said, on the ap
pearance of the black girl. '."'..
In a few minutes Anne attended the summons. '
You are a nice young lady, now, ain't yon?
snid Mrs. Hardnmer, as she entered, the face of
the latter red with passion.
Anne looked at her with an expression of sur
prise, and Mrs. Hardamer continued:
A pretty young lady, truly!
'1 do cot understand you, madam,' said Aone.in
painful surprise. " 'Be kind enough to say, in what
I havo offended you. ' , '
'Pretty bold, too! upon any Word! Do yon
know who you aro talking to. Miss? : '
- 'I am not consciourof having done any thing .
wrong. Mrs. Hardnrher, and only asked yea to tell
me in what I had offended yon,' said Anne, in a
respectful voioe, though her lips quivered, and ber
face had crown exceedingly pale. -
'Did any one ever see such assurance?' exclaim
ed Genevra.
'
'What can this mean?' said Anne,the tears start- .
ing to her eyes. . , ' .
'Mighty ignorant, said Gertrude. j
'I must insist on an explanation, said Anne.mor
firmly, brushing away two drops that hod stolen
over their boundaiies, and were atontly eliding
down her pale cheeks. . . , . - .
amor.in supreme astonishment at Anne's insolence. ;
Insist ou an explanation from Do you know
who you are talking to. Miss? .
I'd turn her out of the bouse, bag and baggage,
so I would, said Gertrude.
'Iudoed, madam, I cannot suffer myself to be
talked to in this way, aa'd Anoe, calmly, "at tbe
same tune that I am innocent of having done any
thing wrong,' nnd sbe turned to leave the room.
'How dare you!' exclaimed Mrs. Hardamer, 1st
a loud voioe, stamping on the floor with her foot.---Come
back here this minute! . ,