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Western Reserve chronicle. (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, June 13, 1855, Image 1

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51 3BwkIq .familq Sournnl, Denote!) io rtrbom, ini!tur?, literature, (Uhnrntton, 3CoraI Intrlltgrnrr, anb ty Himz of fye Dai.
VOL. 39, NO: 43.
m. uni, a adtastck. . .
WHOLE NO. 2019
For the Chronicle.
Oft la childhood's happy hour.
When tbc sultry md wmj high.
Ban I gathered drooping flowers.
Where the tree-tops hid the sky.
Winding dowa a pathway far.
Overgrown with fonat trees,
. Branches hanging lowly there.
Wand ia erery passing brsese,
., To a bright aad sunlit glade.
Where a crystal Cream ia seen,
- Half in sunshine, half in shade.
Winding through the tloping green.
' On those mossjr banks I' re Iain,
Lister'-g to the ararmuring stream
TIU it, like the falling rain.
Wrapped my spirit in a dream.
Long In lingered by it side,
forming faaciee wild and rare.
Till the coming erentide
Threw its darkness on the air.
How I lored these quietly rislons -
Childish fancies though they w
Yet to me as worlds elysian
Seemed those "castles in the air."
many a bright and happy day
Ban I passed within that glade ;
Bunny isles ia memory
Brightaning a sea os shade.
Warren, June, 18SS.
From the National Era.
Light was, before the sua
His ancient race begun.
The Father spake : a bubbling spark
Gushed to a fountain though the dark.
Till chaos and the wastes of night
Were deluged with the billowy light.
Again he He speaks. The bright drops ma
To wheels of name ; and moon and sua
Han a triumphal road a'er darkness woa.
In all are gleams of light.
Though often out of sight.
Obscured by sorrow and by sin ;
By ignorance locked blindly in :
That warmth keeps hidden germs alhre,
If ore potent heat the bloom will gin ;
That spark shall meet another ray ;
That darkness shall be Light's highway :
For Sod gins enry soul a sun, a star of day.
Te guides of other men.
By tongue, or deed, or pen.
On your bright axles calmly torn ;
By pausing, ye would blast and burn.
Clear sun-drops from the Fount of Lon
Adowa your earthward channels more.
Bhiae on, though all is dark below I
Through thickest fogs the sunbeams go.
To make the unseen blossoms hnd and blow.
BY LUCY LARCOM. Choice Miscellany,
From Peterson's Magazine for June.
I never saw two people that seemed so
"made for each other," as did Meeta
Carr and my friend Job Talfourd. One
rarely thinks of such a thing in reference
to persons that hare never been brought
together, but the first time I saw Miss
Carr, as ber head appeared above the
ship's side, she was climbing, I felt that
Job's Venus had risen from the depths
of the sea. I wished that he was there.
It was a glad day. The vessel was to
be christened, and notwithstanding his
name, Job was well-fitted to play his
part in such a scene. I suppose his god
fathers and godmothers had to answer
for the rounds of imprecations he be
stowed upon his cognomen. He always
wrote himself J. Talfourd, and consider
ed it a personal insult for any one to ask
what the initial represented.
It is a wonder that I did not fall in love
with Meeta Carr myself that day, for I
never saw any being so beautiful, as she
broke the bottles of wine ; but I had
a previous engagement. I became an
intimate friend of hers, however, a fre
quent guest at her uncle's splendid house
in Fourteenth street ; sat by her at din
ner parties, feeling all the charm her
grace and tact lent to her deep-toned
thoughts and feelings, and danced Ger
man quadrilles with her at midnight.
The men, without exception, worshipped
and flattered her, and she seemed, by a
sort of chemical analysis, to seperate
whatever there was of truth or sincerity
in their compliments that only she re
ceived ; all felt that the rest floated down
the stream. She had none of those lit
tle nets and lines by which many women
gain admiration.' It took well this gay
indifference. ' The conservatories were
ransacked for choice boquets for her ;
and her door was besieged with anony
mous presents which were straightway
forced up in a dark closet.
It was almost as exciting as cham
pagne to study daily such a deep heart
and mind. And the sparkles were not
wanting. Some were flashed from Mee
ta's pride; which would admit very few
into the peotralia of the sanctuary, the
exception in my favor, a great compli
ment therefor. Another was that she
never looked upon me or behaved to
wards me as if there was any probability
of my ever beccming ber lover. ...
But in talking to Miss Carr, one now
and then seemed, if I may so express it,
to the bottom of affairs unexpectedly.
You could not say it was too soon, but
it was when you had thought a fresh
fount of feeling just opening. I discov
ered the reason of this by merest acci
dent. . Meeta Carr had no idea of relig
ion, hardly of God. I do not mean that
she was an Atheist, neither had she the
easy creed of the world. But the senti
ment, the feeling, even in its most gen
eral form, was not in her. She told me,
with wonder at my wonder, that the idea
of a Disposer of all things had never en
tered her mind till suggested by some
one else. She could talk and think of a
future life, but the thought of a God ru
ling over the present, with whom she
had any connection, could find no foot
hold in her mind. I tried to rouse a
feeling that I thought must only slum
ber, but in vain. She would look at me
calmly and smile. One day I concluded
an eloquent burst, " Do you understand
me, Meeta ?" I asked.
"No," Bhe quietly replied.
I desisted ' after this, but wondered
that such a lack was not more risible,
and that it did not extend farther.
When our party was made up for New
port in the summer, I wrote to Job Tal
fourd to meet us there. In common
with every one else he was dazzled with
Miss Carr, and at once devoted himself
to her. The drives and polkas he beg
ged for were granted far more freely than
to older acquaintances, his flowers were
worn, his instructions at the bowling-alley
accepted, etc.
One day I was praising him to her,
when she said quietly, "I do not under
stand your friend. Tell me his peculiar
ities." "I think his character easily read," I
answered, watching her closely, "with
the exception of a sensibility as tender
as a woman's. He is a poet, as you may
have discovered, and has, perhaps, in
dulged too freely in the license of genius;
but you ladies will not like him the
worse for that."
As we rose to go in we had been sit
ting on the piazza in the moonlight Job
suddenly came up- the steps. I looked
quickly around at Meeta. Her face was
quiet, but I saw she was holding her
breath to keep the color from rising. I
felt convinced that she had undertaken
to win Talfourd's heart undertaken it
with all a woman's wilfulness, the more
quickly because she saw it would be
difficult Yes, ths proud beauty, so dis
dainful of admiration and homage, would
change her character and bearing, and
try all ways of winning devotion.
Strange inconsistency ! Fain would I
have given her more help, but I too was
puzzled with Talfourd. He went too far
to go farther.
Late that same night, I was walking
down to the beach with him, when he
suddenly collared me, exclaiming, "Do
yon love Meeta Carr ?"
" What the deuce do you mean ?
Hands off," I replied, shaking myself
"Do you love Meeta Carr I ask ?"
"Do you?"
"Yes no I don't know."
"Say no, then. Meeta Carr is not a
woman to be loved with a hesitation."
" I know it." After a pause he con tinued,
"You have not answered my question.
You have been playing a part. You love
Meeta Carr and she loves you."
"Take care, Talfourd, what you say.
I have not the patience of your name
sake." "Namesake be hanged."
"I will answer you in plain words.
X do not love Meeta uarr, ana never
"And why not."
" I deny your right to ask the ques
"Is she not worthy of being loved ? '
"Aye ! nobly, sincerely."
"Has she not a true heart ?"
"Truer thnn you think ; with feelings
far more deep and underlying than you
have any idea of."
There was ahop the next night. How
radiant Meeta looked ! She was dressed
in white, her skirt caught with bunches
of ivy-leaves, and a garland of the same
twined in ner rr lossy curls. She wore a
splendid wreath on her bosom, reaching
from shoulder to shoulder, which a little
marred the symmetry of her costume, but
I fancied, and afterward learned, that it
was Talfourd's gift. He did not come
until late, and then only said a few words
to her, and devoted himself to a little,
ri a a 1 v
Dlue syiphiue irom i miaaeipnia. 1 no
ted the fierce pang of jealousy that shot
through Meeta's heart. All that evening
she eagerly tried to attract his attention.
Sbe who before had scarcely deigned to
Satin slippers were beginning to look
soiled and frayed, when he relinquished
her hand after the single dance he had
asked that evening. I saw the feverish
expression in her eyes. Suddenly she
extended her arm in a strange manner,
I thought, and her bracelet lay broken
at his feet. He raised it, and asked per
mission to have it mended. She haugh
tily refused. He seemed nettled at this,
and turning hastily, left her without a
The ball was broken up. I heard
Talfourd make engagements for meeting
the little girl in blue, at the bowling-al
ley the next morning, and also to drive
her on the beach at six. Miss Carr had
refused several invitations for the beach '
in hopes he would invite her. I joined
her in the embrasure of a window. The
music ceased, and we heard the melan
choly roar of the sea. The night looked
dreary without. There were tears in
Meeta's eyes, and I knew the fast-thin-
,i , 3 3 .1 U
ning Dan-room loouca areary mruugu
them. I half wished Talfourd would
approach, but Meeta knew better. She
knew that a ball room is no place for
woman's most subtle weapon. The next
moment she looked up from her droop
ing wreath with an easy smile, " I be
lieve my mother is waiting." Oh,
smiles and flowers and jewels, how much
do ye hide 1 Was hers the only aching
heart in that Newport ball-room that
night ?
Dancing, flirting, promenading, ma
noeuvring, ten-pins, fast horses, sherry -cobblers,
moonlight tete-a-tetes and Polka
Redo was went on at Newport. Well for
those who had not put their hearts on
the game ! I beheld with wonder the
transformation of my friend Meeta Carr.
Her quick and practiced tact prevented
others from seeing anything in her ac
tions but the caprice of a petted beauty.
She had a constitutional fear of horse
back exercise. I had once seen her,
after many solicitations, tremblingly al
low herself to be placed on the back of a
steady, old worn-out Rosinale, but at
his first step she turned deadly pale, and
but for assistance would have fallen
fainting from the saddle. Now Talfourd
greatly admired a lady cquestriau. On
this account she determined to conquer
her dread. Bui her riding lessons were
hours of torture. She often returned to
her room with a headache for the day.
She learned to ride with grace, as she
did everything else, but never without a
palpitating heart, and a sigh of relief on
Talfourd was a wonder to me as well.
His behavior to Miss Carr was always
distant and reserved, and yet he almost
constantly sought her society. "Law
rence, I leave Newport to-morrow," he
6aid to me one day.
I was not surprised to hear Miss Carr
announce to her bevy of admirers, that
the time set for their return to the city
was the beginning of the next week.
Again in New York, her trial to win
Talfourd's love continued. I knew that
her mornings were passed in the close
study of the German metaphysical works
he loved, and urged upon her. She had
no fancy for such things, but still would
dim her bright eyes poring over them
when she longed to be abroad in the
breezy October noon.
All at once she stopped and drew back
She was cool and smiling as a snow- drift.
Was it jealously ? I had seen that pas
sion urge ber to the putting forth of all
her powers. Had she concluded it hope
less ? No, the change would not have
been so sudden. I watched her for a
week and learned the explanation. She
had a poor cousin, plain and delicate, to
whom Talfourd's feeling heart had made
him show many attentions. He would
bring her the lingering flowers of au
tumn, move her chair to a sunny window,
reach her a fire screen, tell her the gos
sip of the town, and in a thousand name
less ways cheer the poor girl's existence.
These things Meeta had understood and
admired, but one day she saw him pick
up a bunch of faded chrysantheums that
lay beside the piano, and conceal them
in his bosom. They were Laura's and
he stood aghast. God forbid that she
should come between that poor girl and
a love that would be to her as the one
ewe-lamb of her life ! With all the dis
creet generosity of her nature, she be
gan at once to crush back her feelings.
I even reverenced her as I looked on her
trembling lips and calm brow. With
another, even her proud spirit would
have struggled, but with her poor, sick
cousin no ! Talfourd saw hei anxiety
not to eclipse Laura in her presence, saw
she had misinterpreted his attentions,
and took care that she should do so no
more. The incident of the flowers was
accidentally explained lie had thought
them hers. Her proud spirit was laid
open before him, and by her own gener
osity. And so it was that meeting at a
bridal reception, after a month or two
more of eager trial and heart-burning on
Meeta's part, Talfourd said, in the most
every day manner,
"Ah I Miss Carr, I am glad to see
you here, for I should "have only had
time to leave my P. P. C's at your door.
I am going abroad."
Meeta went through the suitable sur
prise and regret. "When do you sail ?"
she inquired calmly.
"On Monday. I will not ay goodbye.
Ah rtvoir."
Each took a smiling and careless fare
well. Meeta hurried into a refreshment-
room, where after a hasty glance to see
that she was not observed, she filled for
herself a brimming glass of Margaux,
and drank it almost at one swallow.
Before Talfourd sailed, I discovered
that he had found out Meeta Carr's great
The birds had sung the new music of
two spring times to the skies of America,
blue as those of Italy twice had the for
est fairies of the New World kissed every
branch and stem with their loving and
glowing lips, while Talfourd and I wan
dered in the "foreign parts." I had
joined him in the Levant, and we had
travelled over the East together. We
had got bank to Paris again, and found
it ringing with the beauty and grace of
a young American girl. At the opera,
a few nights after our arrival, we obser
ved a 6udden stir and rising of glasses.
" Voila, said ine entnusiastic young
Frenchman, who had been gabbering to
us of large wondering eyes, and pearly
teeth, and exquisite shoulders. It was
Meeta Carr.
We went round to her box. At Erst I
was deceived by the well trained self
possession with which she greeted Tal
fourd, but I happened to look down
among the folds of her ermined cloak,
and my eye caught the quick clasping
and unclasping of her small hand. Her
remarks to me were in French, but after
the first words of salutation she spoke to
him in English. The unconscious com
pliment was not lost. He seemed at
once under a spell. I had never really
thought that he loved Meeta, and had
fancied that two years had effaced all
impressions, but a true poet's heart was
that of my friend Job. What a name
for a son of thine, Apollo ! The em
bers of affection could never become en
tirely dead. And Aleeta 7 1 soon saw
that the struggle was to recommence
She had much to tell the next morn
ing of the events of two years. The
great sorrow of her life had fallen upon
her. Her mother had died very shortly
after mv departure. -For a moment I
hoped that grief had led her to a high
er power, but alas ! no ! Her lame
brother's health had brought her with
her uncle to Europe. To this child, the
last of her immediate family, she clung
with idolatrous tenderness.
I knew there was little food for hope
that glittered through her downcast eye
lashes when she spoke of Talfourd ; and
Paris was of all places the last in which
to indulge it. Frivolous and perhaps
heartless as French women maybe, they
are most of them unaffectedly religious,
and this without the embarrassment and
secrecy in it which distinguish Protes
tants. Poor Meeta.
I was hardly prepared for her passion'
ate turning away from all homage to seek
that of Talfourd. Paris was at her feet.
Men of the world, scholars, military men,
noblemen, poets, pursued her with ex
quisite gallantry, delicate flattering at
tentions ; but she sent them down the
winds as though not worthy of a thought
Oh ! how many arts love taught her,
and how day by day her feelings grew
more easier, her heart sickness more in
tense. She did nothing unmaidenly,
nothing forward, but it seemed as if her
feelings could not be repiessed. Tal
fourd was too absent-minded to be a very
close observer, but I thought he must
see this. Many an irascible Frenchman
looked at him with a muttered "tacre,"
as his own attentions were repulsed for
those which Talfourd offered with such
a strange, variable, uncertain manner.
Summer drew on, and the Baths of
Lucca were recommended for little
Charley Carr. To my surprise Talfourd
insisted upon going thither also.
"You had better stay where you are,"
I said. "Do you know what you are
doing ?"
"What do you mean ?" he asked.
"You understand me. I do not wish
in such a connection to speak the lady's
name even to you ?"
He looked offended and turned away.
The next morning he said, "I am going
to Italy when the Carrs go. You can
come with me or not as you choose."
"But Talfourd "
"If you wish to continue your last
night's remarks, Lawrence, you must
excuse me. We will not resume that
subject at this or any other time."
I knew Job did not get his temper
from the land of Uz, so I said no more.
At the Baths the same scene was re
enacted. There was much company
there, and Meeta queened it over all.
The impressible Italians raved about
her. There was a wealthy English no
bleman, one of the most striking men I
ever met. who would have given half
his fortune to bear back such a bride to
his velvet Westmoreland glades. I did
hope that some one would succeed in di
verting Meeja's regards.
"This is my first and shall be my last
at match-making," said I to myself.
"How much would I give if I had not
been the means of bringing Talfourd and
Miss Carr together."
As I better read Meeta's passionate
heart, I feared she would break through
conventionalism, and threw herself upon
Talfourd's compassion. How much
pride had she already cast aside for himl
The Baths of Lucca are " located,"
as a Yankee would say, in a narrow val
ley, on both sides of which the sun is ab
rupt. There are many lovely hill-side
walks. One day I came upon my friends
seated beneath the shadow of a spread
ing chestnut. Meeta's uncle, who had
been her companion, had strolled further
up the mountain. Talfourd was trying
to sketch the drooping arch of her eye
brow. Failing in the attempt, he began
tracing over the original with a corner
of a card, "to get his finger into the way
of the curve," he said. Suddenly stop
ping, he pressed the card to his lips, and
replaced itnot in his pocket, but iu his bo
som. Meeta sat still with her usual
grace. I found myself de trop. Miss
Carr's manners, however, had lost their
former retenu. .They had become rest
less and impetuous. Foreigners thought
nothing of it, but 6he would not have
been as much admired in England as
At the next ball given by the duke,
Talfourd was constant at her side, and
hanging upon his words, she seemed
scarcely aSle to spare a thought for an
attempt to veil her preference. She se
cretly watched his eye to guide her in
every little particular. One trifle struck
me that evening. All Italians have a
horror for perfumes, so that Miss Carr's
Hediosma and Ess. Bouquett which she
used profusely, attracted attention. A
day or two before I had heard Talfourd
strongly express his agreement with the
natives of the country. That night, for
the first time, I lifted an unscented hand
kerchief. Talfourd and I occupied a sitting
room in common. As I was pulling off
my pumps that night I heard him leap
ing up stairs. He dashed across the
room without a word and bolted him
self into his bedroom. The next morn
ing he asked me in a melancholy, but
fit m tone, if I was ready to go with him
to England. And so the day of our de
parture was fixed for the next Wednes
day. On Tuesday there was a sketching
party made up. We wandered about
for some hours, Talfourd hovering near
Miss Carr with wistful looks and silent
attentions. Our cloth for a late din
ner was laid upon the grass. Poor
Charley Carr sat at the head in high
glee. He had been carried up in a chair,
for his sister never could bear him long
away from her.
The sloping rays were glimmering
through the lovely chestnut woods. We
were standing on the brink of a cliff
watching the shadows creep up its sides,
when we heard a sudden cry. Miss
Cair sprang around the angle of the
cliff and uttered a scream of horror.
Her little brother had ventured on a
ledge in quest of berries. The rock on
which he had crawled had loosened and
fell, and he had barely time to fling him
self towards another crag, where he
hung by his hands. - All access to him
seemed impossible. The precipice was
almost perpendicular, and far below
among the crsgged rocks foamed a moun
tain torrent. What was to be done ?
The poor child looked up with a face
dumb with horror. Talfourd'seye caught
a jutting rock near, and he instantly
thew off his coat. "Let me go, signor,"
said a Luccese peasant, who had been
with us during the afternoon, "1 am used
to these mountains. It were madness
for you."
The man instantly began to climb
down the cliff. With suspended breath
we watched his progress. He reached the
rock, but the distance from the child
was greater than he had thought. He
could do nothing. Sick with disappoint
ment, we looked in each other's faces.
The man retraced his steps to reach
another crag, from which grew a stunted
tree. Carefully he began to climb out
to the end of its branches. In the mean
time, Charley had managed to draw his
feet up on the rock, and crouched there,
clinging to the matted vines. Meeta had
been cheering and encouraging him, but
now 6he covered her face. A German
girl by her side breathed a low "mien
God," and she suddenly looked up with
an expression I never shall forget in
tense, puzzled, eager, wistful. Many an
ejaculation of prayer was uttered aloud ;
and she looked from one to another, and
then almost writhed in agony. She has
no God no God to pray to !
The peasant had now reached tho
outermost branch, from which hestretch
ed down his atheletic arm to the child
who could just grasp his 6ngers. "Climb
up to my shoulder, so that I can get hold
of you, can't my boy ?" he said.
Poor Charley's lameness almost pre
vented this. He tried often vainly.
"The branch is parting," whispered some
one, as a loud crack was beard, i be
brave Italian cast one glance at the body
of the tree, then at the abyss over which
he hung. "Signori, my wife and chil
dren," he said, looking up ; and then to
Charley, "once more for life-for life 1"
ThU time he was successful, and the
man's strong grasp was on his arm.
One mighty effort, and he swung him
clear over the overhanging crag, away
above his head, to a broad rock whence
many eager hands bore him to the top
The peasant had just time to get off the
branch when the last fibre parted.
For a moment I thought the revolu
tion of feeling would absolutely strangle
Meeta. Then she bowed her forehead
on a rock near which she knelt, and her
lips moved in thanksgiving to God.
Yes, in that hour the heavens were open
ed for her. Her burden of gratitude
forced her to scale them, for all earth
flung it back. There was silence while
she lifted up her awed and overwhelmed
heart When she ' rose, and Charley
sprung to her standing embrace, there
was an altogether new expression on her
countenance. She looked around on hill,
and vale, and river, as if a new world
had burst upon her.
I do not think she thought of Talfourd
then, but his whole soul was laid at her
feet That one prayer had won won
what absorbed and wearying effort and
affection had failed to do alone. Dizzy
with emotion, her tottering steps were
supported by his arm. His whole being
went back to her with a passionate aban
donment that could not but satisfy even
The brave peasant was generously re
warded, but I think he cared more for
Meeta's tears on his hand.
What a delirium of pleasure glowed in
my beautiful friend's eyes the next day
Time and eternity, this world and the
next were casting their floods of happi
ness at her feet
" I thought we were to be on our way
to England to-day, Talfourd."
He looked at me as if I was wild
then laughed. " Oh ! I recollect.
Well I'm not going to England just
now, my dear fellow."
They were married in Italy, and Tal
fourd's ardent affection for his lovely
bride was I'll leave it to novel writers
to describe.
For the Chronicle.
Slavery may be considered as the
darkest shade of that moral night which
still hangs over our world, but which
must soon pass away forever. Believing
that the Universe is governed by a wise
and holy and omnipotent God ; that He
has condescended to reveal his purposes
to man ; and that the Bible contains that
Revelation, we look with confidence for
the triumph of Righteousness in the
There may be some who look for such
a result from what they suppose to be
the independent action of human minds,
who overlook, or deny the Divine agen
cy in human affairs : but God is our
strength. If "Truth is mighty, and will
prevail," it is because truth is an instru
ment in the hand of a mighty God.
Were it not for his powerful agency,
Falsehood, on earth, would forever prove
itself mightier than Truth.
In all our efforts to advance the cause
of righteousness, our hopes of success
are founded urxn the iovful fact that God
rei-ms. When we see the King of kings j
seated upon the throne of the Universe,
and seem to hear, as John did, the glad
hosts of heaven, "as the voice of mighty
thunderings, saying, Alleluia: for the
Lord God omnipotent reigneth," we can
look with lew alarm upon the darkness
that hangs over our fallen world ; can
anticipate a glorious result of all the
chaotic movements of human minds.
The hearts of all are in the hands of God.
He cannot be disappointed by any of his
creatures. He has said, "As truly as T
live, all the earth shall be lied with lite
glory of the Lord." It is the confidence
inspired by such declarations as this that
sustains the good man in all his conflicts
with the ruler of the darkness of this.
world. Were it not for this confidence,
built upon the immutable purposes of
God revealed in his word, a survey of
the piesent moral condition of the world,
and especially of our own beloved coun
try, would be discouraging indeed.
What indications do we see of the tri
umph of Righteousness in our great Re
public, called so free, so prosperous, and
so happy ? Alas, we see the whole pow
er of the government arrayed on the side
of oppression ! It is humiliating to know
that Ine present cniei magistrate oi we
nation has been placed in that high posi-
by the vote of a large majority of
the people, solely on the ground of his
known devotion to the interests of Slave-1
ry. He had defended himself against
the charge of having been once an honest
man, and proved to the satisfaction of his.
friends that he had always been on the .
side of the oppressor. '
All other qualifications could be dis
pensed with, (and they had to be) if
they could only be assured that he was
base enough to employ the power tha
would be placed in his hands for the
support and extension of Slavery. He
has not disappointed the high expecta
tions of his friends. " In his inaugural
address to the assembled multitudes, he
maintains the institution of Slavery, and
invokes the Almighty God to maintain
those rights, and thus sanction the vio
lation of his own laws 1" - He implores
the Divine aid and protection in his ef
forts to rob his brother of Liberty, and to
shut out the light of truth from millions
of his fellow-men ! His subsequent course
has demonstrated his entire subserviency
to the slave-power. The moral charac
ter of a majority of the people has been
sufficiently indicated by their choice of
such a President
When we turn from scenes of political
depravity, and contemplate the churches
and their Pastors, the prospect does not
brighten much. Though from some of
those Golden Candlesticks, in the midst
of which the Saviour walks, the light
still shines with brilliancy ; though some
of the "angels of the churches" the
stars in his right hand are still pouring
their mild rays over the surrounding
darkness ; yet it is a sorrowful thought
that many stars, which we believed were
firmly held in the right hand of the Son
of God, seem to have become " wander
ing stars, to whom is reserved the black
ness of darkness forever." If, as Dr.
Griffin conceived, there has "gone down
to hell, with the most of his congrega
tion, an unfaithful Pastor, more deeply
scathed with thunder than the rest," it
seems to me it must be one who in the
pulpit has attempted to vindicate Ameri
can Slavery; who, standing there as the
embassador of a holy God, has prostitu
ted his powers of eloquence to the defence
of the greatest possible sin "the sum of
all villanies."
If it were possible for any thing to
shake the strong confidence which the
true Christian feels in the divinity of the
Gospel, and awaken in his mind the ter
rible suspicion that it is a humbug; that
the venerating" power of the Holy Spirit
upon the human heart is a delusion, sure
ly, the strange, distressing sight of an
advocate of slavery in the pulpit would
do it. To see, perhaps, his own belov
ed and venerated Pastor, in whose char
acter he had seen combined "whatsoev
er things are true and honest and just
and pure and lovely ;" whose genuine
and fervent piety he had never doubted;
in whose ministerial and private life he
had constantly seen manifested " the
fruit of the Spirit, love, joy, peace, long
suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith,
meekness, against which there is no law,"
(except the Fugitive Slave Law;) to see
him, who had so long and so powerfully
inculcated the holy principles of the Gos
pel, attempting now to defend a system,
the flagrant wickedness of which must
be clearly evident to his own mind ; to
hear that dear familiar voice "employed
to clear the guilty and to vanish crimes;"
to hear him say, that if a single pray
er would annihilate that system, he
would not dare to offer that prayer ! !
Were it not that "he that believeth hath
the witness in himself," such an exhibi
tion as this would overthrow his faith.
But though "the foundation of God
a"delh sure, having this seal, the Lord
knoweth them that are his," such a spec
tacle must have a most disastrous effect
upon the minds of men, predisposed to
regard the Gospel with aversion, and
eager to embrace every plausible pretext
for rejecting it And they could not de
sire a more plausible one than the appa
rent fact that its influence upon its most
devoted advocates has been to harden
the heart to steel the soul against the
cries of suffering humanity, and to dis
pose its ministers to employ their pulpit
eloquence in defence of the greatest
wrong and outrage of which man can be
We can point to the merciful and com
passionate Redeemer, and say triumph
antly to his enemies, ".What evil hath
He done ?" But when they refer us to
some of his ministers, whose praise are
in all the churches, and say, " Behold
the advocates of oppression and cruelty!"
we hardly know how to answer them.
We can only say, What have they to do
to declare his statutes, or that they should
take his covenant in their mouths.
A Fxeuxo Replt. ' Would you like
to subscribe for Dickins 'Household
Words?' a,ked a sombre magazine agent,
. HoajSebwjd words have played the Dick
tion, enij wUh m(J ,ong enough Wil3 fue,
r(jp,y The Rgent obscunded
j Llvb up to your engagements.
Maxxsq a Raisb. A gentleman who
was a passenger on Wednesday nicrht's
m af O
train from Cleveland, informs us of the
kind of care taken by the passengers for ;
an " unfortunate" widow lad v. who had
lost her baggage, checks and money at
tbe Cleveland Depot The lady (so the
plot run) had been West fived in Great
V alley, Catt Co., and was the mother of
numerous family. One gentleman.
possessing a more sympathetic nature
than the rest of his fellow passengers, sta
ted her ease, and commenced a collec
tion. It being a large train, thirty or.,
forty dollars were soon deposited in the ,
bat, and delivered over in due form to the) -
lady, who was much excited and over-
joyed, at this unexpected kindness among
strangers. In due course of time the '
tram arrived at the Dunkirk Depot, and
instead ofbein? assisted on board tho
New York and Erie train about to leave
for great Yalley, our lady hero conclu- -
ded to stop at one of the hotels, where
she was recognized by one of 'em" as ,
an "unfortunate" lady from Buffalo.
Our informant is only minus two quar .
ters, which he has entered in his memo
random book "forchariUble purposes..,
Buf. Commercial. - ' v- ,
A Pawcx Lscoo. A Jewish banker, of
Frankfort, while proceeding to Vienna by
railway not long since, fell into conver
sation with a gentleman of very pleasing
manners, who was ia the same carriage
with him, and so delighted was the bank
er with his new acquaintance, that he of
fered to give him a letter of recommenda-'
tion to his daughter, who was well mar
ried in Vienna, and might be of service
to him. The gentleman thanked him.
and, with a smile, said, " I also have
one of my daughters married in Vienna ,
and she has made a very tolerable
match." " Pray, may I presume," said
the banker, " to ask the name of her bus -band
?" " It is the Emperor of Austria,
was the answer, the gentleman being
Prince Maximilian, of B a v&ria. Vienna
We get the following from Sol Smith's
late work" Managerial Coup D'Etat":
' On the second night we performed
' Pizarro,' my brother acting the part of .
Rolla. In the last act, after seizing the
child, and as he was rushing up towards .
the bridge, he observed a tall negro -holding
a teacupful of blood, (rose pink,)
which was wanted almost immediately
on the other side of the stage. At he
passed he said to the negro, ' Here, boy.
carry that blood round to me on the
other side I want it the moment I cross
the bridge." Away dashed Rolla bear
ing the child aloft, amidst a volley of
Spanish musketry ; and turning to cut
away the bridge with his sword, what
was his horror to see the tall negro walk
upon the stage, bet wen the 'water and
in full sight of the audience, holding the
cup in one hand and stirring up the eon
tents with the forefinger of the other, and
hear him exclaim, 'here, Massa, here'
your blood.' I ordered the drop to be
lowered immediately, to shut in the Iu- .
dicrous scene."
Proviso Character. " Do you know
the prisoner, Mr. Jones ?"
" Yes, to the bone."
" What is his character ?'
"Dindn't know he had any."
" Does he live near you ? '
" So near that he has spent five (hil
lings for fire wood in eight years."
" Did he ever come in collision with
you in any matter ?"
" Only once, and that was when he was
drunk and mistook me for a lamp post."
"From what you know of him, would
you believe him under oath ?"
" That depends upon circumstances.
If he was so much intoxicated that he
did not know what he was doing, I would,
if not I wouldn't"
Self Rkliancb. There is a time, in
every man's education, when he arrives
at the conviction that envy is ignorance;
that imitation is suicide ; that he must
take himself for better, for worse, as his
portion ; that though the wide universe
is full of good, no kernel of corn can
come to him, but through his toil, be
stowed on that plot of ground, which is
given him to till. The power which re
sides in him, is new in nature, and none
but he, knows what that is which he can
do, nor does he know until he has tried.
Not for nothing, one face, one character,
one fact makes much impression on him,
and another none.
Skvirk Rsport. A man. who mar
ries a rich wife must expect, occasionally,
to have it flung ia his teeth. We have
heard a report, however, which we think
must have silenced such threats. A
gentleman who had the misfortune, to
marry a fortune, was once exhibiting ths
fine points of his horse to a friend.
"My horse, if you please," said the
jrife, " my money bought that horse."
"Yes, madam," replied the husband,
bowing, " and your money bought my"

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