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v. wm 7 i i hi VI J o VOLUME I. XENIA, TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 25, 1863. NUMBER 1. Original. THE WAY TO CHURCH. BY FORM S. POWERS. t Ottt tit adds 5Dd TalrSes peea, T!,MriMte woods (ad over the tCs, TTcSer .fie tire and thiooeh tne lanes, O'er te mnilc niarmn'lBg rills, T-! ber oa hex wjy to tbe cburcb, - Tr.pi Biiicea lovely and f'.ir, Su.pt ie bow by the sueea. let's tide, (ialirK'Lg Sowars Blooming there. fisted the wood sad into the leli. Pasted tba Jeld lad tnto be wood, Biowly turning the winding war. LttiKj in a taoaehllai mood, ew In Tily apd by the tresis Tbt w sweetly ripples along, Bilging to birds ltd waring we Her early Bibbath morning sg. A bright-eyed yostn is tbepberd's drees I turning low th winding way ; .low stop to bt!l the echoes clear. Aa tbey L.U torn tb nvadea's lay. 1 be la; if o'er, tie maiden aow It g,zlr g la tbe silver stream, Wblk: ardently tbe shepherd's boy la vliltirlsg to atr love's yonrg dieatn. Tbe noona j'e eun baa pueed and gone Dawn tte bor!z?n of tte Wert, Bu'. la T.l'ey and by tbe stream, Tbe maid and youth are a till at rest. ' Tte Til age bell they bet; no mote, OlI the tonga e( birds above, As tbry aid In elccneiilEotes ' The youth to tell hit tale of love. Original Through Mists. BY JENNIE CAULFIELD. CHAPTER I. A RETROSPECTION. 4 ' - v a k s i i r i I V. ue&wji.r poor words can make my History worthy of ycul f.t;rr.tive perusal or otherwise, I ain not prepnied uj &ty; but if any one po&BeeB' ing a tct lor Biography should place before you the very words I am about to record, I have no doubt that, painted in their glowing words, it would be fraught with intei est. I do not uncover my wounds to your view as an intercession tor t nipathy or pity. I hate pity. Neither do I sh to conjure up some retrospection of your existence, whose remembrance will make vou writhe with pain. 1 would rather take your hand, call you "sister,' "brother," and assure you there was and is a balm, and however the intense wish and the strong desire to which we have given expression in passionate prayer may be wiuield, still a recompense isgiveu: blind our poor human eyes as we may, it is there, and we will know it in time .niortnl or immortal. The earlitst recollections of my life are more than partially obl'terated from my memory. Not that I had little aflection tor it; but there bus been a constant discord since, in whirh I have lost even the echo of that sweet, low pre lude which w aa not unlike the song my mother used to sing hen she rocked me to sleep. Looking back, I gee myself closing my baby ees, and I am utterly powerless to check the upii-ing w ish that I had died just then and there. This is not entirely a selfish wish: that is, it was not created in my own suffering, but in the full unconsciousness of all she endured for b.t sake; that I -never have hnd never can repav her the waste of her previous lile. Also, th a X might never have occasioned any human being a moment's misery; that I might never have wounded any fond heart, or cause a single tear to full. God knows I never listened to a cry of anguish without an intense desire to possess the power to hasten the promised time when "God himself shall wipe all tears from their eyes." There are one or tuo instances, however, and one ortwo objects of tint time, which are im printed upon memory. It has puzzled me often liikl, through all the vicissitudes of my life, I have ever retained a vivid picture of that grand old house where I was born. It is King off there in the distance, with the golden sunshine ilhn upon it and aslant the Linden poplars. ever a source""of tiwitght to-my childish eyes, and the indellible picture 1 keep ot this deu- j old house is so connected with an incident ol my childhood that one is seldom separated from the other. ' : J Ann, the colored girl who waited upon mo in j the capacity of dressing niaid, a gay, witty, im aginative being, was wont to delight my ever willing ears with some original fiction, while dis charging her light duty. Mo it chanced one eve ning tliat she, having reached the acme of in spiration, endowed her beroine-with some flying facility I cannot say w ings, for they were not mentioned, and I think a mind like Ann's would be more apt to conjure up some incom prehensible faculty. It appeared, in the com mencement of the narrative, that the heroine lived in some fore;gn parts not yet laid down on our maps, Lcing in the neighborhood of Jack, the liiant-Killer's plantation, in which vicinity ' she went out on numberless flying tours and be- j held nameless wonders. Part of the annecdote -'has escapeed my memory, or I never clearly un-, derstood through what mysterious means of transportation she was enabled to do so; but, nevertheless, being out one day on one of her miscellaneous aerial trips, she landed suddenly in old Baltimore, and was serving in the capaci ty of dressing-maid to a sulky, ill-tempered child; assuredly belonging to tho "ne'er do well" class of youthful humanity, exhibiting tal ent for tearing white dresses that had an aitinity for nails, and soiling clean pinafores and tossing her long curls half an hour after they had been pronounced in shining order, and last, but not least, she would give vent to' a propensity to kick, scratch or pinch, as the curt might be, her faithful maid ! At this stage of the recitation, my eyes, which had been fixed upon Ann's, as sisting my ears to take in all, were instantly withdrawn, for upon her left cheek I saw a scratch which I that very afternoon had inflicted, because she had unintentionally pulled my hair in the curling process. I was so struck w ith the similitude of the disposition of that little girl with my own that I hid my fice in shame, and lost to some extent the winding up of the tale. save that I have an indistinct remembrance that this unfeathered flvine creature micht. at some unlooked for crisis, should this state of affairs continue, ny away trom that little girl who so resemoled mvse'.f! and the nlicht that little trirl would be in, if having no one to do for her, was dwelt upon at some length, apd I was iu great consternation indeed, and rejoiced in the stipulation that if that little girl w ith w hom I had a common sympathy would mend her ways, there would be no neccssitv for callinz this dor- mant facultv into action, and thev ever after ' -- That was the abrupt finis of this story, for mv mother entered the room, and an occurrence j traaipired the ensuing morning, as a direct j ' consequence of Ann's indulgence in her imag-: inative powers. 5be wa ever alter prohibited j exhibition of her genius. Ann's story ere-1 a ted an idea in my mind and I was strangely sx- i cited; but the presence of my mother calmed i me. Even in my ignorance oi' the great bless ing a mother's care w as, and bow thousands of children with yearning little hearts went to sleep sobbing "mother in vain, still I am con fident I knew it was a comfort to have her t isi e. I have know n siure, w hen in my dreams, 1 thought her still there, and I have awakened, in the act of stretching out my arms in the dark and the cold to embrace her. Perhaps the night of w hich I speak was the first restless night I had known. It is at leat the first I can recall to my mind. When I look tack to this period of my life, in the comparison of what I was then and what I am now, even in the face of the little faults and errors which marked try earliest career, I find myself alter ed in so many respects that it is with difficulty J refrain front shedding tears. 'I fiuiTmvself je ; sirous of grasping hold of the old faith I had n, God, his creatures, or w hat we term the world the ignorance of childhood, that fruition of bliss that I fain would cheat the stern teacher, xjri3C, cut of the imuwiede I obtained ' . I j 1 i i t ' to Iwr! I think she knew it already. I think the black-seale l letter which Charley Brown's father brought later in the day, only estureJ her. My father had fallen a victim to the fear an ful epidemic which raged in New Orleans, and died a week from the time hs had last written, I cannot dwell upon this, My father's people w ere sorely incensed against my mother, she being the daughter of a surely and imperceptibly each passing year. Ah, tee ! any pr woman of fashioa, aped in the world 'i iraT; will tell yoa this. To be a chad again ! Ah, me! ah, me! I would gather that old faith into my heart, and carry it with mo down into my life", as we carry Lanterns of dark nights. The wise faith the foolish oW world pronounces verdant. If I were an artist, ami wished to paint a lesson 01 iginating in the high 3t princiole of art, I would choose lor my sub ject the Lule Child seated in the midst of the disciple?, and the full consciousness that they must uxlearn much thjl they accounted wisdom should dawn in the eager expression of each face. In that day I wa totally unacquainted with falsehood to that degree I believed Ann in all thinga, no matter how enormous the absurdity of what she told, and I do not blush to scknowl- itAcrA tliia trt vrn I vi nnfHAnt 1 littin fHH haH l,ri ... .n.in l with a f.rilitT for making lark-like tours. I coveted the posses sion of tbe privilege enjoyed by the birds I loved. I dreamed of her. 1 awakened to muse vpoa her. In my dreams she tantalised me by flying off just as I had approached near enough to venture to satisfy my curiosity as to her in visible means; and, waking, I was provoked that I hi- een near her but in a dream. So the night passed in unsatisfactory dreams and disagreeable awakenings. I was silent and moody all through the making of my toilet. I was motionless and speechless during the curling operation, pull my hair never so hard, as Ann wonld to overcome numberless tangles that ob 'structed the passage of the eomb through my long, thick hair. If 1 remember rightly, my beauty lay in my hair, as did Sampson's strength in his, and the dressing of that hair was Ann's mania. I have a vivid recollection of standing at the head of the winding stairs, where Ann and I parted companv, she returning to my room to put it in order, f had not any definite ob ject in view in loitering there; but it occurred to me, as she closed the door, that if one little girl could fiv, so could another. As ehila. I was rah and impulsive. M v girlish cousins al wars shunned me, as thev would a great boy. and the bovs chose me for their play-fellow, for I excelled in their sports. I did not care for girls' plays. I had an antipathy for dolls. I once traded off a new wax doll to mv cousin Charley Brown for a few eomies, plasters and crystals, because ns little sister cried tor it. 1 never knew fear in those davs. n ith me, to conceive an idea of performing an fe:it was to put that idea into execution immediately. 1 would fly down those stairs. My arms should serve me for wings. I shut mv eves; I spread out my arms; I sprang up and drew my feet up, and in endeavoring to keen this foundationless position in air, fell headlong. Thus my first aspiration was rudely nipped in the bud. I hare a pleasant reminiscence of a darkened room and a pale, sweet face, with blue eyes, bending above me w ben 1 awoke. 1 ben 1 slept again, and woke to heur my father say: "Thank God she is not a cripple," and our old family pbvsician make some low remark. Ann was crouciiing at the foot of the bed crying for me I who had beed'so nnkind to hei aiid 1 wanted to call her to me; but I was very weak. Then I thought mav be I would die. Then a great fear over took me. I had never associated death with mv ia of God. There was no connection between tne bountiful hand that bestowed life and the grasping one which deprived. In mv then com parative innocence I loved God. Mv mother told me God himself was Love. In the songs of birds, and in the heautv of flowers, and iu any thing that made my heart exceedingly glad, I acknowledged God. 1 had a dtead of death. I never regarded it as a gate througn which the soul passed up to God. It was rather, to mv childish imagination, an eternal separation from Him. I was wont to teate my mother and her visitors by perpetually asking them to explain about the soul; but I never comprehended their best and most patient endeavors to do so.. Now I feared to solve this problem myself. God heard the prayers of those who loved me, and from the brink of the grave restored me to thtm. After my convalescence, there was an uneventful time a season of uninterrupted happiness a cairn before a storm. It Was a fearful storm that broke over as; the mote fearful thsit we were in the full enjoyment of the sunshiDe of yesterday, and so unprepared to meet the col i. dark desolation of our wreck to-day. My iV.i.tT had been absent from home on business. In his last letter he wrote, "Look for me home," stating the period of his ex pected arrival. W e counted the days. It was autumn the year's twilight. Summer was dy ing far over the hills, and tbe earth waa wearing a bright face as so rinr.y human beings, when unconsciously apprcichmg a sure desolation. We gathered around the early fires, and my mother would take me on her lap and strain me to her heart, and we talked of him. At length the day came. It was a day to be Eet down in one's memory, coming in so suddenly amid the early dark days, so golden in sunshine, so ripe in beauty, that it was like a letter from the springtime,, and the very heart of Nature was gladdened, and her face brightened by it. I wandered through the house in great unrest. My mother's eyes ever turned toward the win dow; but she strove to chct-k my impatience. The gorgeous sunset mocked my heavy heart. All through the gray, cold tw iligtit 1 stood at our gate. Once a carriage drove up to our very curb. Eager and almost breathless, I sprang to the unopened door. Cold, strange eyes looked inquiringly at me, and the voice of a foreigner inquired for a number on the next Bquare. At last th house lamps were lit, and being no longer able to endure this first bitter disappomtmeut, 1 ran up the long walk into tne lighted hall and into the library, where my mother sat in the firelight, with her face resting in her hands. Something in her attitude ar rested me. I never saw her sitting in that position in after years but I was reminded of this night. I had been crying to myself in that little run; but at the sight of the pale face she raised and turned toward me, I instinctively checked myself. Drawing an ottoman to her 'side, I crouched upon it and laid my head in her lap. We were silent at first; all the while her hand passed to and fro through my long curls, and there was such mesmeric power in the loving touch I was soothed and suddenly a hope sprang in my heart, and I exclaimed, "There's to-morrow, mamma; he will surely come to-morrow' And she said "Yes, deir," softly, and bent low over me and kissed me. We had our tea in the library. I marveled, silently, because there were fresh boquets on the mantels of the dining-room, and the table was set iu state, and father's napkin ring was laid again; but the thought came to me after ward why my mother bad not the heart to sup there that night, 1 sat up lar lieyona my usual hour for retiring. My mother told me amusing ana instructive atones uuiu i was quive nappy strain, and had forgotten why it was we lingered iu the library so late. I thought she was happy because she smiled. . I was awakened through the night, but She waa alw ays sitting at my bedside; and when the new day was dawning in the east, snd the early light stole through the crimson curtains of the great windows, she was there still to smile unon me. What a day and night that had been clergyman and they of the Kouian Catholic faith. Her ow n father closed the doors against her because she had married out of the church. Uncle Charles was the only one of that house hold who countenanced her; but he had sinister motives. He became her adviser. It appears my father's affairs were dreadfully complicated and mixed up. T did not understand then how it was, and my mother and I ever avoided this painful subject. There was a law suit. My father's people were against us, and they were great in number, and my mother was a lone woman, struggling with a broken heart, and she lost. Our home was sold over our heads. We went.tq Uncle Charley's, only to remain to make preparations for a jouruey westward. The tide of emigration was westward. It was like a new world. My aunt, finding the sincere efforts she mads to dissuade my mother Ineffect ual, rendered her all possible assistance). My wwlo rfBrtrted feebly agtinsttbli step; but I ' a I a it a as I as I to I I - bit mother's resolution was not to be shaken, and I think the morning he parted with us at the depot I discovered a lurking expression of relief in my ancle's face as he bade us farewell, Soon after he became a rich man, and be had in comparatively moderate circumstances, so that he grew in great favor with my father .brothers. But we heard all this from strangers. He never wrote to my mother, and we seldom if ever mentioned him. although I am sure he wax often in our thoughts. Wh.t a and place is a railroad depot for a heavy heart, with its excitement and bustle and take care of yourself aspect. I saw little girls there who were going away, too; but they had fathers to come and bid them pood-by, and others had fathers to go with them. But we were alone. People stared at our new mourn ing, and left us to ourselves. I fell to weeping passionately. 1 forgot try mother in myself- jshnesa, now that I wa i all she had left in the world to love her. When the cars stared, I gathered myself up in the corner of the seat, snd woald not hear her sweet, comforting words, but cry myself to sleep; aad this wa the first day of our new life the preface of daikdays the . beginning of a seoarate existence. " " How our Teara.Bg hearts would return to the former time! Sometimes a form, a tone of voioe, sodden glimpse of a lace, a chord in and a atraiure hanDiness thrilled us so: so it was for years after. He had died so suddenly ana so tar away Irom us, ana we never looted ucon bis dead face. We were lovmrr him the same, and we still looked for him home. . s j ' I CHAPTER II. LAUNCHED. The inarch of improvement had not been so rapid in those days. . We were two weeks jour neying over a distance which, in the present time, can be accomplished in two or three days. An uninteresting journey to me, terminating" in famous old town in Kentucky, which, for con venience, I will name Westville.wliere my mother placed me at a boarding-schools I have a vivid picture of the immense school-room as I saw it first, with its rows and rows of desks, and (lie four great stoves, "red hot," at one of winch I had stationed myself, counting i.e desks aiid the rubbers at the black-boards, anj erlools, ing sums that were left thereon -ait,.:.'? toy head with Geometrical figures, asx ,adir jlnbt toes and proverbs, names and initial betters. written in pretty school-girlish bands, such as Knowledge is .rower, the company he keeps," "The world belongs to the brave," "Lucy White, D. L." Now, if it had been M. D., or A. M., or F. S. A., I could have imagined this a pleasant ioke. but mv eve almost immediately falling upon another name, Susie Drown and , mv mental vision cleaned. On the margin of the pages of my old school books was similar writing, and I recalled dear little blue-eved bov in Baltimore who had been my escort to birthday parties, and Bible panoramas, and the Saturday matinee. I see myself standing there like one in a dream. Presently the door opens, and a bevy of girls, witnout noticing, rusu uv me to a door on the opposite side of tho room, nailed upon which is great placard whereon is written in plain. handsome, unmistakabble writing, the New Rules. I noticed that each girl, in her turn, reads, and that each girl, in her turn, lifts her hands and gives two or three little shrieks; and hear such exclamations us "abominable!" and preposterous!" and I entertain pitv for them; untU I observe that each new-comer does the same, and then, joining the group at the farther stove, becomes as merry as they, and I conclude this is a mors form that the girls go through with for their own private amusement. After while they converse in a somewhat subdued tone, and through the furtive glances 'cast to ward me, I know myself to bd; the all-absorbing topic, and mv deep mourning a cause of great speculation. I stand apart, not caring a fig for their opinion. However strange this may seem, is, nevertheless, quite true. It mi gut have been owing to the tact that boys were alwav my chosen playmates, or that I never had a sis- tcr. At all events, the favor of these girls was' matter of total indifference to me. I huggso? myself with a sense of miserable isolation, and began to wish myself eisewnere. : 1 thought ot my kind teacher in Baltimore, and fall to won dering if I could ever love as well the tall, stern- looking lady who met my mother and i in the parlor, and from that to conjecturing as to who the personage, and what ner otuce, who had con-H uuctedmtto that great room. 4 ben I stared out of the window at tne ceaars, loosing vjry pretty in their first snowy hangings, and only knew from the louder talking and more frequent laughs, that tlie number of the group at the stove had been greatly increased, and they were unmindful ot me as I bad been of them; but listened to their voices and said softly to my self who I should like in time; and while I mused thus a hand was laid on my shoulder, and the young girl who brought me hither said : " You will please return witn me, miss, ana lea me back to tne parlor, wnere my mouier ana tne Preceptress awaited me. I elided into my motaers outstretcnea arms and laid my head upon her shoulder. That was always my movement when troubled. As long I could remember, I wonld rush to her just so, and that was the end of my sorrows; but now I remembered haw pale and ill she looked, and that it had pained her to see me so sad, and composed myself and slipped out ol the hold her dear arins and stood quietly at her side. While she spoks to ma I glapced, from time time, at the tall lady opposite, and I noticed that the whole expression of her face had changed ; those hard lines about the mouth dis appeared, and a soft, sweet expression crept there instead, and lay in her eyes, too, when she raised them; and I was reminded of a sunset glow over a winter's sky, a reminiscence of bright sunny skies, and "verdure clad" Nature. My mothhr was saying to me, or, more cor rectly speaking, she was endeavoring to say to me, verv gently ; "Egie, I have a trial in store for my little girl," and her lips trembled and her eves were cast down; "a trial, a test of my little girl's affection for me, if she will bear w ith patience our separation. Egie, dear, I have seen fit to place you at this school through the week. You and 1, who have never parted, will be separated from Monday morning until Friday evening. But I will remain at Mrs. Wilson's. The time will not seem long to you, dear; due attention to your studies will hasten it." She paused and looked down into my eyes with the olden gaze of unfathomable tenderness, and think she discovered the rebellious spirit ris ing within me, for she said, in tones that were pierced with pain, "Your own good has been mv object in placing you here as a boarder. But will be near you, and you will come home every Friday night. Yon and I, who have never been separated, mi st part now. Still we will in time learn from this habit of regarding our selves near one another in our separation, cer tain comfort, perhaps, in the parting that must be." I think she would rather have said less. I believe she thought her hidden meaning was clear to my discerning eye and quick ear. Still think she felt it a duty to approach nearer a subject that was painful beyond endurance to both, and she would have spoken at more length, but some well concealed feeling made it a diffi cult task indeed. I was struggling with myself my innate selfishness. Tins was all new to me But she who knew me wo well knew it was the best way. Knowing my own disposition, I see it clearly now as she did The idea of being a day scholar in this strange school had cost me a sleepless night or two, but this was unbearable. I let fall a tear or two, but I was not " prone to weeping, as my sex commonly are." An evil spirit ruoe up in me. I looked up again into my mother's face, and the old smile that she wore for my Bake w as Ritting there calm, serene. God knew what agony of soul it obscured fiom my passion-blinded vision. I cried out: " She does not care for me no one loves me. I want to die! I want to diel Only my father loved me of all the world, and he is dead I" I throw myself upon the floor, and sobbed and moaned passionately, but I shed no tear. I cried aloud that my mother hated me and I hated her; that she brought me there to strangers and left me, now that father was dead, and there was no one to take my part. When my passion subsided, I lay weak and helpless. A servant was called to carry me un stairs, J offered no reiiitance. J A man U known 1 I i had closed my eyes, and was not aware that my j mother was lying pale and insensible upon the i sofa, or the strength of all the servants of that household combined could not have borne me hither. I lay upon the bed, in the long dormi been tory, moaning to myself, for the evil spirit had eyes ana was asnamea oi mem. cut i lay mo music, tionless, with mv eves closed, hoping that each j torn my soul, and the remorse and pnde of my heart, each struggling for sole possession, owned no healing power. I scarcely noticed the long lines of beds on either side the room, nor the en trance or withdrawal of any of the number of girls constantly coming and going. J. hey would look toward mv bed and sav with utter indiffer- Oh, a new one." They did not bother me with tneir sympathy, "fccenes were not so novel to them as to afford amusement even. They chatted of fashions and Christmas pres ents, and goseipped about their neighbors, and slandered the absent bosom friend, and talked sentiment about tours and Charleys and Her- ' berts. They were sent there to "finish," and 1 they were tak.ng the evil with the good. Thev ! had stepped out of the quiet and protection of home, and were plunged too suddenly into the world. They were noisy, vehement creatures, One of them said my ancestors were the seven sleepers, since I could enjoy the "balmy" in such a racket as that; snd another that Iwaa possumming, and would be sure to turn out an eavesdropper; andstillanotherth.it 1 had gray bell that rang the half hour would be a summons ior inem. many a iaay teacner came up ana reprimanded ttieni severely lor their tardiness When she was cone, they shrugged their shoul ders, and said " Jliss Lane had not forgot that obnoxious habit of coming to clear the premises, but then she w as a dear, delightful old hypocrite, and would not teport them to Miss Pardoe for the world," and they straightway voted her a handsome present at the close of the term. After their w elcome departure, a grateful silence reigned in my immediate vicinity, but ever and anon the ball-hour bell rang out sharply, and va rious pianos about the house Stormed fearful discords. Mv head throbbed and ached. I sat up in my bed pressing my burning forehead with my feverish hands, and f wanted the cold little hand of my mother there. Miss Pardoe glided noiselesslvto my side. A stern look was upon her face its habitual ex pression but she smoothed my tangled hair with a kindly, gentle touch. 1 could not meet her eyes at first; but it enconraged me to ask if my mother was down stairs. There was no up braiding in the quiet, steady gaze she fixed upon me. 3'here was rather a sorrowful pity, and I thought' at the time a certain sympathy kindled in hor eves, as if she recognized the evil snirit slumbered within me. Somehow I feltets if she had been once like me, sin-stained; but now her soul's robes were cleansed to the white ness of purity, and she who stood beside me was oueof His redeemed. At that moment, through her presence, God toisrhed my soul. : A: deep sense of the sin I bad committed fell upon me. I w ept bitterly, and her tears were flowing with mine. "Egie," she said, " before I can answer your question let us talk freely together." She took mv hand in hers. She told me of various incident in her liV that co.as ineed her of the necessity T3f the lesson "wef nsust all loarp, of 6elf control I do not remember her exact words. . ':' On two or three occasions we had such talks, and good seed were dropped that lay in darkness and obscurity many years- But it was the "word 9pokeu in good season," and, like the bread cast upon the .raters," .returned. She had sinned and she had suffered: ,"What she now fas she was by the grace of God." She showed me my fault, not exaggerated, but severed from ev ery plausible shadow of excuse. It was as! though Eho he'd God's mirror beford me, and I saw rellected there tho hideous deformity of my soul. She showed me my mother deprived of my father's protection, and our large fortune re duced to a diminutive income. She painted life to' me, notasa-paradise, no matter how enhanced its bcjuties were, through the goodnes3, niercy and glorv of God; nor as a dark, gloomy place, with lis lost Eden behind and an avenging God ever approaching; but as a school, a preparatory plfice to lenrn His will, to do His work a place tiir.t C&V be to all a field of noble actions. . She spoke to a slumbering spirit within me that quickened at the word not, as i said, that there was any immediate result therefrom. A soul used to luxury and ease could not, throw off the silken cords of inertia at once, to bind on the heavvT:liain of duty's bidding. And I was but J kfi.r vp-;,k rnm,-ii. ,i - beautiful face of mv old companion! Idleness, .bending over me, with its luring smile, how could i look away to tno unprepossessing, scarred. itrangt face of Duty, marked with its record of CORlilCtBJ Miss Pardoe advised my taking a little re freshment and remaining in the dormitory for the purpose of seeking rest, that I might enter school on the morrow with invigorated strength. She did not kiss me before going awny. She had given me a higher and better marc ot ner esteem. She left me quieted, but hardly com forted then. The path of the future lav through dark ways for me. Poverty waa a new com panionduty, a hard taskmaster life, disrobed ot all tne nngut tints ot imagination, stretched out before me, a boundless, colorless space. There was to be no more sentimental dreaming. no lingering beside the fountains of youth for me; my heart must never again throb with wild ecatacies at some airy fabric; it must only know the dull pain ot stern realities, ibis was what said then, and I tried in vain to sleep, with the weight of a heavy misery at my heart. Very wearied I became. The rows of small bedsteads, and the various trunks beside them, assumed a common lock to me, as if J had beep accustomed to them. My eves had gone on numberless exploratory expe ditions, and I knew that upon the novel wash- stand, wnich was the length ol the upper side ot the room, were a dozen pitchers and a dozen basins and a dozen soap-stand? and that some were whole and some broken, and some blue and some green and some white. They were peculiar to the institution unlike all others I had ever seen. It was certain relief to hear ap proaching footsteps upon the stairs. The door opened, and the young person who had conducted me to the parlor entered, herring a tray of re freshments. I felt again an unaccountable cu riosity in her, and still instinctive forebodings of evil. She spoke to me kindly, asking if she should pour out my tea, because my hand trem bled, aud, not delaying for my permission, did so, and sliced my toast. I noticed that her hands were small and steady, aud dnzzliugly white pretty hands that would be well suited to a sick room. The costly sets of the rings glittering upon her fingers I thought rather out of keep ing with her plainness of dress. It was made of some coarse, brown material, not making the least pretension toward costliness, but made in the most becoming style, aud worn with the air of a princess in velvet. One was reminded of the brown dress of Cin derella in the play. A neat figure, which I dis cerned at once to be a difficult stitch, was em broidered upon her smjll linen collar, and which recognized to be the work of steady hands like hers; but I thought it would have been prettier if it had been plain. I am not of Lavater's opinion, that all things have a physiognomy. Still I fell to reading this girl through her dress, and I learned afterward that the opinion then formed was rather correct. did not notice her face much, for her eyes were fixed upon mine. It was pretty, to glance at; it was pleasant to see occasionally. A rather large head, Vbroad, high forehead, and small, regular features, something of the Grecian or der, cheeks rathor too full, complexion delicate. There were contradictory lines about the mouth, much of sweetness, much of pride, but neither predominant. Her eyes were a light blue, with coldnenrtless gle im in them. Her hair was golden in the sun, a rich brown in the shade, and in abundance and fineness of texture unparal leled, and it was the glory of her beauty. It was a saying in the school. "As beautiful as Marion Burton's hair." She remained beside me until I had partaken of the nourishment; but although we made good use of our eyes, our acquaintance was not ad vanced beyond the exchange of a smile or so. When Blie was gone, 1 settled my pillows com fortably, aud amused myself with various con jectures as to her position in tlie institute, un til 1 saw ber agaiu in dreams. I do not know h w long I slept. I was star tled by a loud, emphatic voice, exclaiming " Ink 1 why, Clara I your pretty new sack I" and a it i " Hash 1 you'll wake that poor little miserable over there." - - Lightly tread ! lightly tread '." "She takes on very strong, they say," in an undertone. "Poor little dear, the storm3 of adversity have assailed her in the early morning of her life. four m a little more water, t elic.ty, dear, she has just lost her father, and ber mother will be hearing the angels sing before long; so she sends her here through the week, so that The separa tion may be gradual." " Poor dear ! who told yon?" " There, I knew it would not come out. Just strain your accustop-?d ears to hearken to an extempore lecture from Miss Pardoe. That is the second new dud gone up cn first day. Who told me? That clever bird, Marion, at her old vocation, listening at key-holes. . May she be blessed with earaches this term. She spun a long romance about how they had been wealthy and her father died a bankrupt; but you know she is so given to exaggeration that one does not know the exact beginning oi a story, she is such a liar, you know, saving the presence of any one who may be listening at the key-bole. This voungster, as any one possessing the full num ber of senses allotted to erring humanity might do, objected to staving here. She got up a reg ular tragedy, a la oiddons, lor Miss rardoe s es pecial entertainment. Marion was door-keeper, you know. The mother fainted, and a carriage had to be called, although she boards just round at Mrs. Wilson's, where the Governor is. The Lord prosper him." "Be still, irreverent creature. Do you know, sister Nell tried to dose me with the news that Nort had written to her?" "Nort?" laughed her companion. "Never, Girley; it would have taken her all the vacation to decipher his penmanship. Botheration on that history bell !" 'Will you sit by me and prompt, Fidget dear. I have not had a minute to prepare." "Fidget dear" made some laughing remark, and they were gone. I sprang off my bed with the fully determined purpose of going to my mother. This was the first knowledge I had of her fainting and consequent illness. What if I had killed her in my cruel anger? A dreadful terror seized hold of me. Torturing thoughts sped through my brain. I dare not hope. I dare not pray God's mercy. I must go at once to learn tne worst ttiat might be. 1 must do so secretly. " I could not endure the delay of hav ing my freedom questioned. I must steal away like the convicted, guilty creature I felt myself to be. Cautiously I approached the stairs. Mv way was clear to the fip" floor. Having reached the main hall, I hid m an obscure dark corner. A door opened stealthily. Marion glided softly past me. l could have reached out my hand and touched her. I knew then that my only safety depended upon my speed. I wouid not wait for my bonnet and wrappings. The parlor aoor was open, Dut mere was a good deaf ot loud talking and laughter. I knew their thoughts were occupied. I wonld not be defeated in mv purpose. I glided boldly past the open door un noticed. I turned the great key with nerTous hands, and resolutely opened the heavy door. It closed behind me with a bang, whereupon I ran down the stone stairs and the walk, and out of the gate, never turning a backward look un til I reached the corner breathless. No one came in pursuit of me. I had not been observed, so regaining breath, I ran on. I remembered the way. My eyes had made way-marks in the morning for themselves. The streets were deserted, that dreary, winter? twilight. Luring and invitingly the glow of the firelight fell upon parlor windows. A vearnine: SDramr ud in mv desolate heart as I passed. Then I said to my self that 1 was going borne to my mother, and my fears died within me. My mother's board ing-house was a cheerful place. In my stay of two days I had formed an attachment for her mend, jllrs. Vt uson; so, with a thrill of joy, I paused at this hospitable door, with its shining plate, glimmering white in the dusk. Here, too, the shutters of the immense parlor w indows were unclosed, and the crimson and lacecurtains being parted, one caught a sight of the handsome paintings upon the wall and the costly furniture and velvet carpet of the parlor, enhanced by the rich, soft gleam of the firelight. A strange gladness filled my heart. I opened the door proudly, unmindful for one moment, and in the next I had entered the parlor in sad perplexity as to whether I should see Mrs. Wilson ormotbi first. - What would they think of the manner in which I had come, and the disrespect I had shown Miss Pardoe? If my mother were dan gerously ill, she would have sent for me. Ail my resolution forsook me. I threw myself npon the nearest sofa and wept bitterly, regardless of tame ana place, utterly abandoned to my grief. was even unconscious of a band being pFaced lightly upon my shoulder until some one sat down beside me and strong arms were about me. Then this somebody quoted Carlyle: Tis a shriftless thing to be sad;" and I was reminded of my father in this, his favorite saying. He had said it time out of naiad to me in my child ish troubles. Even a child could not hear Nor ton Asbury's voice once, and forget its varying sweetness. The most common ideas would be rendered beautifulpoetry in his expression. I have heard Mrs. Wilson say " it was grand to have him converse upon any subject whatever; he could invest tbe most trivial thin with in terest, and when conversing upon political sub jects, even though you were of the opposite party, and honorably Digotted in your principles, you followed that voice until you found yourself ready to adopt bis opinions, tor the time being at least." I have listened to him, enraptured, since then, and. have seen a new expression kin dle in Marion Burton's eves when she listened. Once she said, when h had been talking fast on some pet topic of his, that his words "rushed out of him," and some of the girls laughed at her odd saying; but I understood what she was trying to hide. If yoi-4ad been standing on the sidewalk without am, the glow of the tire had attracted you, your eyes would naturally wander from the rich ornaments of the room to the graceful figure of a young man bending over a child, and you would have seen him as I did, looking up at that moment. No matter about his hight that was always difficult to determine. His beaiin" was majestic, and endowed you with an idea of a hight which his stature had not at tained. You admire tlie symmetry and full de velopment of a figure w hose every movement is grace, characterized by manly strength. The fine contour of the head, the waving masses of black hair, which creates the undying admiration of the susceptible young ladies of the institute, the clustering curls above the broad, intellectual forehead enhancing its pale beauty. The classic features, the proud black eyes, ever changing expression with present thought which words fail to describe, sometimes cold and proud, looking far off, again pleading, earnest, search ing jour heart for lost treasures anon, defiant and dearing, again irresistibly roguish. But when the face is at rest, touching in the melan choly, unre ting spirit, looking out of their depths. The voluptousness of tho small mouth in whose expreMion mingle ami able sweetness of disposition and firmness of purpose, w bo..e curving lips can part in smile of loving innocence, like a child's, or in a stoical derision, whose chill will strike unerringly at your heart's core, or they will be compressed with an unflinching decision untd the lines which mark it seem only those of harshness and sel fishness. You notice too the whiteness and the perfection of form of the hand, small almost to deformity. With the full glare of the fire light upon him I think, like me, vou will notice ill this. Take this poor picture, falling so short of the reality of the beatitv and perfection attempted to portray, take it away with you as uiu. Aeep it, tor tne vears m.iKe no ravishing changes of such. To such an one I gave mv lull confidence, snd 1 believe 1 poured mv childish troubles into sympathizing ears. His was a gonerous, impulsive nature, overlooking mv error, he advised my seeing mv mother and enlisted in my cause at once. He gave mo a name. Little Warrior. He smiled when 1 said that I knew "the only right thing for me to do was to return." "But Miss Pardoe?" he asked with grave look. "Oh, nothing," I said. "I suppose I will be punished for an example, but I will never break one of her rules again as long as I live." He looked at me with a queer smile at first, then gravely and kindly offered to escort me there when 1 saw fit to return. So with swift ness in my feet, relief in my heart, and hope in my nee, i hastened to my mother s room, She of to to a ui to to tlie Bly was resting in an easy chair, and some thought ful person had arranged her pillows. I noticed this with a twinge of conscious jealousy. I felt that already some one had taken my place she was learning to do without me. But I concealed tne transient thought ot pain, tier face was whiter than the linen of the slips, and she was too feeble to raise to meet me. She welcomed me with outstretched arms, but I wonld not be taken back to my old place until I had knelt be fore her and confessed my guilt. We embraced one another again and again. It was as though we had journeyed separate to foreign lands and had returned. After our first and only es: trangement the reconciliation was sweet. My mother rang for lights and tea, and we spent a pleasant hour together. I said it would be happiness to stay in that pleasant place the re mainder of the week and commence my school in good style the following Monday. My indul gent mother sanctioned my wish, but a new spirit of resolve within me determined me to conquer myself and return at once. It was not an easy task to convince my mother of the ne; 1 cessity of my doing so, but I at length obtained her reluctant consent. A little while we talked of our fuaire prospects. Peering together so into the iuture wa discovered chinks .that ad mitted a flooding sunshine npon the untried darkness. It was a pleasant way of facing poverty, and encasing her rough hard hand with a kid glove. I was reminded of passing time by restless feet pacing to and fro the hall. Then I knelt before my mother and our bowed spirits in dire poverty of good gifts implored the rich ness of His blessing, and with my mother's benediction resting upon me I went forth to that battle field whose conflicts are not recorded in blood, neither are its soldiers discovered by dying groans, only God wots of the dreadful strife, a?d His angels note the silent moan and the unwept tears. ;.. -! [TO BE CONTINUED.] Original. Clark's Letters to Gov. Seymour. NUMBER FOUR. ST. LOUIS, 1863. To Horatio Seymour, Governor of New York: Sik. I cheerfully accord to vou one patriot ic utterance in your speech of September 10th, 1862. You truly say, "He who would rend our National Standard by dividing our Union, is a traitor he who would put out one glittering star from its azure field is a traitor too." But when we consider the mode you take to serve your country; to uphold its National Standard and keep unfurled its glorious ensign when, I say, we listen to yonr crimination of the Na tional Legislature, imputing to it a craven spirit of terror, and a perfidy which would dishonor a highwayman; your manner of upholding the honor and dignity of your country, and oi sus taining its moral power is most remarkable. I fear you fall within the scope of your own con demnation, for I know of no more effectual way of "rending our National Standard; and divid ing our Union; and of blotting out from the azure field of our noble flag each glittering star;" than thus, in the face of a defiant, per jured and traitorous foe, malign the constitu tional authorities ot the nation. Your deep concern for the cause of the Union while you thus reproach the Government, is so gauze-like, that it resembles the kind solicitude of Joab for Anuses' welfare, who, while holding him by the beard and kissing him, uttering tnose Diana woras: "Art thou m health, my brother?" with his left hand smote him under the fifth rib, that he died. Believe me sir, your countrymen will be verv apt to place the same estimate upon your patri otism in the present fearful emergency, that uavia uia in tne ease relerred to upon the friendship of Joab. To give a semblance of candor to vour charges against your Government, you make certain extracts from leading journals of the Union then regarded a3 friendly to the adminis tration, which, under the depressing influence of the disastrous campaigns of the Penin sula and General Pope, were somewhat de spondent in tone. It needs but a mere super ficial knowledge of the case, however, to show that the use you make of these extracts, is dis ingenuous and wanting in truthfulness and can dor. They were designed to rouse the adminis tration to a more vigorous prosecution of the war, while your efforts were designed to bring the administration into popular contempt, and secure the triumph of the Democratic party, in the then pending election. The patriotic robe so gracefully flying around your own standard is quite too short to hide the cloven deformity which protrudes below. Schooled as you have been for half your life time, in the worst and most corrupting maxims of partisan politics; no one who knows your his tory could expect that in a political "canvass, you would deviate one jot or tittle from the es tablished principles of your party, that "all was fair in politics;" and that "to the victors belong the spoils." No manly sentiment, like the almost dying words of Douglass was ever expected to proceed from your lips. Even in the hour of your country's greatest peril, your "jaundiced eye" could see nothing in your political horizon but the organization of the Democratic party. When the integrity of the Union was men aced, and treason, like a vampyre, waa sucking the life-blood of the country, the noblo Doug las, rising above all party considerations, ex claimed: Let as ley laid all criminations and recrlmln? tlons to tbe origin of to Me diOtruUiea; when we bave ayaln a country wltb tbe Cnitad Mates Flag flonUur over It, and re-pected on every Inch of American aoil, It will thea be time enough to aak wbo and what brought all th's upon tie. Contrast this language of the dying patriot, with your wholesale slander and abuse of the administration on the eve of yoar State elec tion; you, vourself be ng the gubernatorial can didate ! Listen further to the words of Doug las to the people of Chicago, commending them that they had ''laid aside party strife:" and then remember your partisan speech, stirring up the angry waters of political strife, and urging tne thorough "organization of the Dem ocratic party." Have you forgotten the conduct Clay and Webster when the demon ot Slave ry under the garb of Nullification, lifted its vile head to menace the Union, where thev laid aside party issues, and gave all their giant strength iu support of Jackson's administration, crush by prompt ana vigorous measures that infamous attempt of treason and rebellion ? Did those great leaders raise the stale cry of violated State Rights, and sing doleful charges upon the dangers to Constitutional liberties be cause of the bold and noble efforts of General Jackson to smite the hydra headed monster cf nulification? If you can extend your vision be yond the limited horizon of party plots and counterplots, and learn a lesson from this ex ample of those great champions of the Whig party; if you can possibly behold patriotism and statesmanship elewhere than in the pro-slavery portion of the Democratic party, of which voit seem ambitious of being the acknowledged leader; you would never have given utterance these miserable slanders of the preseut ad ministration. Go, sir, and learn a lesson from the nobleness of the Butlers, tlie Bumsiden, the Dickinsons, the Logans and other prominent members of the loyal Democratic party, w ho are now silent on party issues except to con demn them, and are exerting all their powerand influence to sustain the honor and integrity of Republic, instead of vilifying the Federal administration! Look on this picture and then a up all to for on or the to in the of and you we P. CLARE. Hire is something which young men of am ill salaries should consider: Let a man hive a genius for spending, and whether his income be dollar a day or a dollar a minute, it is eqiuillv ccrtain to prove inadequate. Tlie mm who (being single) does not save money on six dol lars a week, will not be apt to on sity; and he who does not lay up something in the first vear independent e.xemon, win oe pretty apt to wear a poor man s hair into his grave. ' that Oil Dea !" exclaimed Henrietta, throwing i as herself into the rocking chair, "I'll never go, that Post Otlice again to be looked out of oaunteuance by all those men on the side walk. a so provoking ! Wbot can 1 do, Sarah Jane, I ous, slop those awful men from staring me so in J face ?'f "Do as I do." replied Sarah, with n rear look, "W your ankle!" ' to It ,., Shoe Original. LINES TO — BY A. N. ROISLAIN. Neath a 'de spreading tree, by the bright Waters gleamisg. : There, my darling, are met last, oar tow. to recew; How the gentle love light through joar soft eyes wis streaming, ' and bathing my sad heart, like Heaven's own dew. Do ion aver remember that moeay green bank. Where I told yon my love f Oh, Heaven of bliss! As yea in my arms unresistingly aok. And our llpt were faet loci ed In that wild fervid .' Or rbea thoughts of the past bring that spot to ' yourvlew; ' That fpof, with lta fancies and memoiies blest. Would yoa bilsg back thttmoment, to tell me anew That yoa loved me, and droop that pioad bead on my breast f With yoa in my arms I could rtay there forever, And never repine for a pleamntor spot; Heart beating to heart, which death only coa'd sever, And lips preening Up, which death only coold part. From Grant's Army. . We are permitted to make the following ex tracts from a private letter from a member of Grant's army to his brother-in-law in this city: Camp Sheemas, West Sins of Black Rivot, August 3, 1863. , Dear Brother. We are still in the same camp that I wrote to you from last week. I am at present blessed with good health, but many of the members of our regiment are quite siclc with different kinds of fevers, such as is peculiar to this climate this season of the year. Those that are sick at present in our regimental hos pitals have been made so from the nature of the forced marches we made to and from Jackson in pursuit of Johnston, who, on our arrival at Jackson held us in check some four davs and then let us into the place. Alter taking pos session of tbe place we destroyed everything that was most likely to give comfort, direct or indirect, to the enemy of our once bapov country. These people, I think, here in the State of Mississippi, are getting most awful tired of the war, and are now willing to come back into the Union and behave themselves, in fact, some of them are beginning to hotel 1'uT peace, and the prisoners we took at Jackson, to the number ot 2,500, say, that is the most of them, that before they will go into the Rebel army again that they will form themselves into companies and squads and resist the pretended powers that be to the bitter end. Most of them think, too, that they are fighting only for thevpurpose of setting up a few aristo-. cratic individuals to a position not beneficial to themselves or to the rising generations to come that they have a like interest in. It is now given up by the people here, those that I have talked with, that the once so-called Confederate States are now played out. Confederate currency amongst them" is selling from five to ten cents on the dollar quite a depreciation. Don't you think sor so yoa see Cotton is not King, al though the people of the Cotton States thought so. Most of the families that live between here and Vicksburg are now depending on the com missary of the United States for their supplies, such as women and children. This is caused from both armies passing and repassing over this territory until they are eat, as it w ere, out ot house and farm. But such is the nature of war at all times where it exists, or w here two large opposing armies meet to gne battle. We are at present doing but little or nothing, but getting our camp in order to make us com fortable. Our camp is in the woods, on the ridge of a small hill, with plenty of waters short dis tance from here to bathe in and cooking pur poses. So taking all things into consideration we are nicely fixed in a good resting place untd ' S. Mammoth Horse Trade. nif lit, though the Ctptaiu holds tit luu ms pi iimeis ol ar and awaits eu-h.uige. " - Tiia shoeblai k-i of London are very nn mer it, and support regular orirsui.imi.iiis that me controlled by a congress or shoeblacks. Lai Was collected bv '.17 I lva nf tl. John Morgan is said to be as good at playing joke sometimes as he is at horse stealing, and the following incident related by tbe Louisville Democrat shows that on a recent occasion be did a good deal of both, at the same time. The story is rich, whether true or not. During the celebrated raid through Indiana, John Morgan, with about three hundred and fifty guerrillas, took occasion to pay a visit to a little town hard by, while the main body were "marching on." Dashing suddenly into the little "burg," he found about three hundred Home Guards, each having a good horse tied to the fences tbe men stauding about in groups, awaiting orders from their aged Captain, who looked as it be had seen the shady side ot some sixty years. The "Hoosier boys" looked at the men with Astonishment, while the Captain went to one of the party, and asked: "Whose company is this?" "Wolford's cavalry," said the Reb. "What! Kentucky boys! We're glad to see you, boys. Whar's Wolt'ord?" "There ha sits," said a ragged, rough Reb, pointing to Morgan, who was sitting sideways upon his horse. The Captain walked opto Wolford (as he and thought,) and saluted iiim. "Captain, how are you?" "Bully! How are you? What are you going do with these meu and horses?"" Morgan looked about. "Well, you see that d d hor3e-thiving John Morgan is in this part of the country with a passel of cut-throa s and thieves, and between you and I, if he comes up this way Captain, we'll give him the best we've got in the shop." "He's hard to catch; we've been after him fourteen days and can't see him at all," said Morgan, good humuredly. "Ef our hor?e- would stand tire we'd be all right." 'Won't they stand?" "No, Captain Wolford, '.pose while you're restin' you and your company put your saddles our hoanes and go through a little evolution two, by way of a lesson to our boys?" I'm told you're a boss on the drill, and the only man Morgan is afraid of." Wolford (as it were,) alighted and ordered "his boys" to dismount as he wanted to show Hoosier boys how to give Morgan a warm reception should he chance to pay them a visit. This delighted the Hoosier boys, so they went work and assisted the men to tie their old weary, worn-out bones to the fences and place their saddles upon the backs of their lresh horses, which was soon done, and the men were their saddles, drawn up in line and ready for word. The boys were highly elated at the idea of having their "pet horses" trained for them by Woilord and his men, and more so to think that they would stand tire ever afterward. The old Captain advanced, and walking up to Wolford (as he thought,) said: "Captain, are all right now?" Woii'ord rode up one side the column and down the other, when he moved to the fiont, took off hi hat, paused said: "Now, Captain. I am ready; if you and your gallant men w ish to witness an evolution which perhaps have never seen, form a line oa each side of the road aud watch us closely as pass." The Captain did as he was directed. A lot of ladies were present on the occasion, and all was silent as a maiden's a!?h. "Arc you readv?" "All right, Wolford," shouted alie Captain. "Forward!" shouted Morgan, as the column rashed through the crowd van tiglnniug speed; amid the shouts and huzzas of every oue pre sent some loading a horse ortwo as they went, leaving their trail tenement'' of hor- tlc-h tied the fences, to be pioMiled lor by the ciium. soon bee. tine w tiieie.t about that it was Morgan and hi.- cang. and there is not a iu ,,0 ,,, cullc, iml , hl o will "own up" that lit was .-e. The oonfVmnv ili-'b.tiuled - black Brigade,