The Southern journal., August 26, 1845, Image 1

About The Southern journal. (Monticello, Miss.) 184?-18??

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■" ~~wwww ^nr •
Nonanlum Vale.*
When time was young, the mighty God
Placed man upon our earth,
And formed a home for him, where love
And loveliness had birth.
That home, w as worthy even one
In “God's own image” made,—
For ’iwns His hand omnipotent,
That tints the spot arrayed.
No towering granite walls were raised,
No statues carved in stone,
No massive pillars reared their heads,
Beneath atnurblcdome.
No velvet conches woo'd to rest,
No sculptured figures slept,
Where artificial fountains rose,
And on their surface wept.
No silken screen of India's dyes
Had wealth brought to his side,
To bar the golden sunlight out,
That wandered far and wide.
No gorgeous carpels sunk beneath
His proud and manly tread;
No blazing chandeliers gave forth
Their flashings o'er his head.
No glittering birds were trembling caged
To charm his Selfish sight,
N i cost I v perfume steeped each sense,
Fn rapture and delight.
No sparkling goblet met his lips,
O’erflowing red with wine;
Where demons love to trample
What is in man divine.
Ah, no! ah, no! Not such as this,
Tim drink God noured for him.
God never made wlmt would in man,
His holy likeness dim.
But, oh! the waters that lie quaffed,
Were brighter than red wine,
And sparkled like ten thousand gems
Within their fairy mine.
There were no palaces like ours,
To vie with those around;
Ilis home was ’mid the trees and flowers,
His couch the mossy ground.
At night ten thousand chandeliers
Hung o’er him in the sky,
And lie was screened at sultry noon,
By trees that waved on high.
And streamlets danced o’er rocks and sand?
To their own music sweet,
And the sole carpet was the grass,
Upspringing at his feet.
Birds, tor*, uncaged, their music poured
Upon die listening air,
And flowers sprang up and gazed on him,
And breathed love every where.
Well, 1 have seen a picture late,
Of Paradise like this;
And, oh! 1 knew the artist's Ireart
Conceived of Adam's bliss.
For lie had painted on God's earth,
An Eden, sweet and dear—
Ob, if thou wouldst the picture see,
Look round thee—n is hi;re.
* Mr. Warren’s celebrated Horticulture
Garden, at Brighton, near Boston, Mass
1 Strength of Woman's Love.
A Touching Sketch.
The Rev. Mr. C-/at the South,
I recently closed a sermon with the following
; touching narration.
A young gentleman of high reap labili
ty, talents, fortune and family, tnnrried the
'beautiful, the lovely, and accomplished
dangliierof-. She was the daugh
ter of a wealthy merchant in one of our
Northern cities; with their united fortunes
they commenced a career of life, with the
brightest hope® and the fairest prospects
of undisturbed happiness and prosperity)
dint the most sanguine or ambitious could j
wish or desire. She was a Indy of fashion
able distinction in socie'y. the pride and 1
ambition ofall who enjoyed the entree of,
Iter gay and hospitable mansion, and the
idol of a young and affectionate husband’s
heart. Her wants, her wishes and desires
were all anticipated by that peculiar dis
cern mt'nt which always aflbrds so nuici,
delight, apd brings with it those unspeak
able evidences of a husband’s love—that
a wife alone can understand, and appre
ciate.
thus they lived on, fa n few bright
years of happy existence. But alas! such
is the versatility of fortune, such theun
j certa'iity of human happiness, that even
| tiiose who seem to be surrounded with all
j the splendid glitter of prosperity, are, by
«rtme casual occurrence, some unexpected
j event, plunged from this splendid pinnacle
' of prosperity to the abyss of adversity.—
! They saw not, averted not the dark cloud,
i emerged above the bright horizon that had
hitherto encircled their dreamy existence,
but s. on it obscured the hniliuncy of their
prospects, and discharged its baneful con
tents upon their devoted heads; and threw
them upon a cold and heartless world with
out a farthing to support them,
j The husband, unable to counteract this
I inconsistency of fortune, by becoming forli
i tude, gave himself up to the grossest in
i temperance, and subsequent neglect, and
abuse of his lovely wife and family. But
! she, like a woman, yea, like an angel as she
i .
is, soared above it all.
After an absence of some days, his wife
not knowing where he was, lie relumed !
\ home, in the wretched and disgusting con-1
i edition to which drunkenness had reduced '
: him, his locks malted with filth, and stick- :
| ing closely to his forehead, his face bloated,
! and his breath stink'ng with the fetid exhal
' ations of brandy. In this frightful condi
tion of human degradation, saturated with
i liquor, he entered the now obscure, little
residence of his wife, who met him with
i all those feelings of abiding affection, which
in a woman’s heart knows no change, but
: the once fond husband, now transformed
to a beast, returned her cordial reception
l with the coarsest abuse, and at last struck
her to the floor.
She, after recovering herself from the
blow, arose—her husband standing near
, her;—she rushed into his arms, exclaim
ing:—
“Charles! Cliailes! what arc you'do
ing?” and turning from his brow the mat
ted locks which one clustered in beautiful
curls upon his manly forehead, she im
printed upon it an affectionate and endear
ing kiss, and with that s ift and tender look
; of love, from eyes streaming with tears,
upon his haggard features,agnin exclaimed,
j “Oh, Charles, how can you strike your
once dear Marv?”
i 3
He instantly, as if struck himseif by some
super-human force, echoed back the be
loved name—“Mary! Mary! what have I
/done?”
jiu icu upon ms Knees, impiorea ner
i forgiveness, and from that moment be
ll came a reformed man, a devoted husband,
and is now an ornament to society.—Sat.
Courier.
Arnold the Traitor.— Every body knows,
we presume, that Benedict Arnold was the
object of scorn and contempt in England
after his treachery, and that he was often
grossly insulted in that country. The
following anecdote, however, may be new
to some of our readers:
Shortly alter the peace of ’83 Arnold
was presentod at court. While the king
was conversing with him. Lord Balcarras,
I a stately old nobleman, who had tought
uiMlerGen. Burgoyne in the campains ol
America, was presented. The k'ng intro
duced them with—
“Lord Bulcarras—Gen. Arnold.”
“What, sire,”said the old carl, drawing
up his lofty form,“the traitor Arnold!” and
refused to give his hand. The consequence
as may bo anticipated, was a challenge
from Arnold. They met, and it was ar
ranged that the parties should fire toge
ther. At the signal Arnold fired, hut Lord
Balcarras throwing down his pistol, turn
ed on his heel and was walking awav, when
Arnold exclaimed!
“Why don’t you fire, my lord?”
“Sir” said Lord B., looking over his i
shoulder—“I leave you to the execu-'
lioner.
The Poetry of the Rail.
Now that the railways have absorbed
every other interest, it is quite impossible
that the poetry of the country can any
longer hold itself aloof from its all-pervad
ing influence.
“The Soldier’s Tear,” or the “Sailor’s
Snivel,” will become obsolete and rocoro.
Instead of holding aloft snow-white scarfs
to flutter in the breeze, we shall have rail
ways signals hoisted by impassioned stokers
or ardent engineer-drivers, as they, pass
the cottage-doors of their mistresses at
eight miles per hour—by lire special!
train.
We beg leave to call the attention of1
our poets, and particularly that of the Poet !
Bunn, to the new field for imagination
which tho railways open to them. Fair
girls, “met in a crowd,” or stanTting amid
glittering throngs,are completely used up
ind nothing now remains but the sentiment
of the rail; the great trunk lines being ex
actly the sort of line that such minds as
the Poet Bunn are calculated to adorn and
illustrate.
We give a specimen of what we think
might he done with such a subject a?—
THE STOKER'S S1GII.
There Wflfl a tttreu1 oou? r
She lov’d a stoker brave,
And of her hair a glossy curl,
That girl that stoker gave.
He press’d one hand upon his iieart,
The other to his eye;
And knowing thee were doomed to part,
That stoker heav’d a sigh.
Before the lattice open wide,
Behold the stoker stand,
He cries “Wilt lie a stoker’s bride,
Will take a stoker’s hand?”
Tlie words had scarcely left his tongue,
Ere pealing loudly by,
The railway startling-hell is rung,
The stoker heaves a sigh.
“Ah, dearest once I us’d (a dream—”
Nis voice was heard no more,
The whistle gives its frantic scream,
The engine gives a roar.
The stoker hurries to the train,
They’re ofT! away they fly ;
He heaves the coals, for ’twould be vain
Just now to heave a sigh.
The First Glass of Soda.
A very‘green’ canaller sauntered into
a drug store a few days since, and after
gazing about Ivini a few minutes, during
which time bis eyes took an invento
ry of the stock—made known what lie
wanted.
(i T*r emn 11 I.noi* lmrrv1)^
li No sir.” '
Me looked surprised and started out.—
Presently lie made his appearance n»
gain.
“Got soda’s water,—Vpose. haven’t
you ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’ll lake a glnss of it—how much
is it?”
“Sixpence a glass.”
Sixpence! It’s ’mazin’ dear stud’, but
I’il go it. I’m ’way from hum now, and
afeard to lounch out some.”
“Wlmt syrup will you take?”
“Syrup! 1 ax’d for s ida: I don’t want
none of your syrup, as I knows on.”
“ Well, 1 know; but will you have lemon
or sarsaparilla?”
“See here, you, I don’t want nor.c of
your root beer; I’m arter soeja now, no
thin’ else.”
The soda was poured out, sparkling and
foaming, and was taken off at n glass, and
paid for Presently the lively gas rushed
upward throng!) the nostrils of the ad
venturous experimenter, causing his ol
factories to tingle, and bringing tears into
hi< ryes.
“Grub all scissors!” lie exclaimed, “the
darn’d stuff's got ’mazin’ head'of steam,
miff to semi me up the cana'wl clean to
Soarker’s Basin,” and he vanished.—Ex
change.
An Odd Fellow’s initiation.
BY ABEL FLETCHKK.
Having been previously proposed and
elected, 1 started one evening in company
with a friend to go to the lodge lor the pur
pose of hejng initialed. My friend, who
was already a member of the Order, took
me through many narrow streets and dark
alleys, turned several corners, and finally
brought me to a strange looking building
at the extreme end of a long, narrow and
crooked alley in a remote part of the city*
where I could not recollect ol ever having
been before. From the dim lights which
were reflected from the windows of the ad
jacent buildings, the one to which my
tl ion i had conducted me, and in which he
informed me the Lodge met, appeared to
me an antique structure, which seemed to
partake both of the Gothic and Egyptian
orders. At any rate it was an rod look
ing aff.iir, and seemed to be a fit place for
ibe assemblage together of a society of
(Jdd Follows.
™ followed my friend up a long winding
staircase, through several narrow passages
and then up another flight of stairs. Ev
ery tiling as I advanced appeared peculiar
1 it nrlil o nrl rt!.-.nmi- If , ~ _
ered with IrierogU pities end drawings of a
singular character, which could only he
seen by the dim light ofafow tapers which
were burning feebly at considerable dis
tances. At the head ol the stairs, w as a
long dark passage, at the extreme en4 of
which could he just discerned the feeble
glimmeVings ol'a small blue light. All
C*OOl|IOrl vuicM*l«4o«l l - in „ ,.,1
notwithstanding 1 had often boasted of my
courage, yet 1 began to tremble at the
thought of proceeding farther. My friend
took me by the arm and bid me in a low
whisper not to be alarmed. At the err
trance of the passage a broad sword hung
suspended from the ceiling, and as we
advanced 1 read incribed upon the wall ap
parently in letters of fire, “Secrecy or
Death” Struck with honor, I nowr deter
mined to return and proceed no further.—
I accordingly wheeled suddenly around
and resolved to flee for my life. But lo!
the entrance oi the passage was closed; a
strong iron door had been suddenly shut
and locked by some invisible hand, and lo
escape was impossible. My friend again
grasped me by the arm, and assured me
that if I would follow him and make no re
sislance that 1 should not he harmed. Fin
ding that to turn hack was impossible, and
to proceed was my only chance, I sum
moned all my courage ami determined to
go forwaul let the consequences be what
they might.
We proceeded together until we arrived
at the extreme end of the passage. Here
I discovered by the blue light of a taper, a
small iron door on which was portrayed a
human skeleton Over the door was in
scribed these words: “Should thou prove
treacherous remember ihj/ end.'' Again, I
almost involuntarily staited hack, hut a
low whisper sounded in my car, “Remem
ber Lot’s wife.” My friend now rapped
at the door which was nnswered by a hol
low gepulcheral voice from within, which
demanded, “who art thou that knockestf
“A brother of the mystic Order with a
friend who wishes tobeiniated into its rnys
teries,” said my companion.
A small slide on the door was now push
ed aside which made an opening, at which
my friend placed his mouth, and whisper
ed something to the person within. The
door was then opened, upon which mv
friend entered, pulling me after him. In
stantly the door closed and bolted after me
I now found myself in a small room, whose
walls, furniture, floor and every thing were
painted black. A singular odor filled the
room. In the centre s'ood a small altar
on which was burning a flame of peeuliai
east. I now turned to see the person wlu
had opened the door for our entrance.—
His body was enveloped in a white gowr
or surplice that nearly renrhed the floor
; on his head he wore a white turban; n long
I silver beard flowed from hfc chin I > hi*
i "’nisi, and on his face was the paleness ol
: death, in his hand he grasped* a spear
| upon which he leaned as upon a staff —
Never shall ! forget the emotions which
passed through my breast at that moment!
Trenihling with tear I turned to mv friend,
| whi n, h>! there sat upon his countenance
i the ghastly paleness ns upon the co mten
i ance of him who guarded t be door. J look
ed upon mv hands, they also wore the
same deathly hue. Every thing around
| me was frightfully odd, and 1 was now Pul -
j ly convinced that the Society well deser
i vttl its name.
My friend now hid me he seated; then
j clothing himself in a white apron nnd col
lar, he advanced to another door and rap
ped . After passing through the same cec•
emonv as at first, he was permitted lo en~
'er. I was now left alone with the Guar
dian to imagine through what other scenes
I should he called to^pass. But I was not
left to meditate up >n the matter long —
Shortly the door through which my friend
had passed was opened, and four men with
drawn sworus in their hands, entered from
within, followed by a fifth holding a burn*
| ing torch in his right hand and in his left
I 'he Holy Bible wi ll a cross stretched np«
| on it. 1 hey were clothed in aprons and
j collars, and their countenances wore the
j same pale and deathlike hue ns did that of
| the Guardian.
The Bible was placed upon the altar in
jimntot me Inline, I was commanded to
| kneel down before it, and to place my left
| hano upon the bib'e and cross, itnd my
right hind n. on «iy left breast. One of
the men now placed the point ofhis sword
! again-1 my breast,anotlicragainst my right
j side, the third mv left, and the fourth a
j gainst my back. In this awful attitude I
' was told by the man with die torch that 1
must take a solemn oath never to divulge
any of the seereis of the Order that might
he re.ve-led t me
The oath was administered, but I trem
ble to repeat it. I will not shock the rea
der with its repilitinn, nor with tile blas
phemous penalties attached to its viola
tion.
I was now stripped of my clothing and
then blindfolded. A halter was next pla
ced round my neck, and in this defenceless
and obscene condition I was led with some
ceremony into the Lodge room. On enter
ing the brethren commenced a song, dur
ing the singing of which I was marched
round the room for them to guze at.
When the song was finished I was pla
ced astride of a rail, which 1 was told was
the odd fellows goat, and that I could ne
ver become an Odd Fellow until 1 had
first to ride n goat. In this barbarous
manner i was carried three times around
the room and finally slopped in front of
; 'he warden’s chair. Here mv blinder
was raised sufficiently for me to see, when
; one of the brethren having on a mask re
sembling a gnat’s head butted me smack
! off the rail on the floor. Enraged at such
■ cruel treatment, I bawled out most luslily,
l when instantly a cap was pulled over my
head and drawn around my neck so tight
that my noise was at once stopped.
After I had become silent, the string
was loosened sufficiently to allow me to
; breathe. 1 was then conducted to another
part of the room, when I was suddenly
knocked down upon the floor .and on at
I tempting to get up, I found myself so com
pletely entangled in cords, that I wasuna
I ole to rise. At length 1 was helped up,
; and asked what I most desired. I was
i told to sav ‘clothing' upon which I was
dressed in a kind of gown resembling a
shirt. I was next conducted to the Noble
■ Grand's chair when I was again asked
] what I most desired. I was this time told
to say ‘light ' Suddenly the cap was lift
1 ed off my head, and a bright light was bur
ning before my eyes, that fir a time nl
j most blinded me. As soon as I recovered
: my sight, I discovered before nn%her from
! which a dense smoke arose that p rrfumec
the hall. On each side of the altar w«<
burning a brilliant red light that gave ?
strange appearance to every thing aroum
me. Even the very smoke seemed linger
; with a scarlet hue, when suddenly in tlx
t midst f sawn human figure pierced throng!
'witli n dart, and with its bend severer! frou
i,s kodv. Ain) from the altar there came
a voice saying, “See there the fate of him
j «•>« violates ihe vow of an Odd Fellow
j Suddenly the vision vnuished, the lipids
1 were extinguished, and a peal ol thunder
shook the building. A loud demoniacal
laugh now rang through the room, and to
the horror of the darkness, words of awful
! import were seen written in letters of fire
j upon the wall around me. Figures of un
I earthly shapes were seen moving through
the room with tapers in their hands that
harel v emitted light to discern the beings
who held them. Clanking oF chains, and
low sepulchral groans were heard ns ff
I coming up from beneath. the floor upon
I which I stood. A voicft'was now heard
saying “listen fo the i\g<uiizirg groans df
! lhose who have violated the vow of an OtM
! Fellow.” 1’he groans grew louder and fi
; nally died away in a low mumur. Atio'*
thor pcnl of thunder jarred the bulling tb
tits very fnmdaiion., suddenly the darhhesk
vanished & light was restored. The smoke
froiji the altar ceased to ascend. Behind
it stood three figures, clothed in the scarlet
robes, with veils drawn over their faces,
and with mitres on their heads. The
two others leaned upon spears which they
| hold in their hands. The inner one held
in his right hand a hook from which he
read the following: “Stranger, at your own
solicitation and request, you have been
plf'PlPrl n rnfimlioH of C_.1 • __
. .. '-/•u'-i umi nit
keen so far initiated into its mvsteries.—
The scenes through which you have passed
are full of instruction and are designed to
make a deep and lasting impression upon
your mind. The pale vissage which viflt
first saw upon entering, should remind yon
that you are mortal, and must soon quit
the busy scenes of life, to join the pale na
tions of the dead. As you were stripped of
vour clothing, blinded and haltered,and in
this condition led aliout at our will, hot
was finally clothed and restored to light at
your request, so yon should remember that
when a brother is stripped of his property,
by his creditors, and persecuted bv his foes
nno cans upon you tot assistance fi is y, ur
duty clothe his nakedness, feed his hungry
wife and children, and to aid him even to
he half of your property. Your being re
quired to ride our goat, should teach you
to ride fearlessly across the stormy sea of
life, to endure with fortitude the troubles
and difficulties with which you may he cal
led to encounter, and your pilgrimage
through the world. The other scenes
through which you have passed are all de
signed to impress upon your mind the vari
| our duties of life, and what you may ex
! poet should you dare to divulge the secrets
j of this Order. It now remains for me fo
instruct you in the pass word, grip and
sign..
“The pass word of the current quarter is
■Fun-' theexplination is ‘■Devility;' which
will admit you into any Lodge of Odd Fel
lows in the universe.”
“The grip is given by hooking the fing<
j n.~ *
| “The countersign is given by partly plo
: sing the hand placing the end 6f the thumb
i against the tip of the nose.
“As you advance into the higher degree*
of this order you will receive other pass
words and signs, and find other explana
tions oi the scenes which you have this
night witnessed. I will now invest you
with an apron and colar, the badges of this
Order. Previous however, to your taking
your seat as a member of this Lodge, it -b.es
conies my duly to administer to you anoth
er solemn and landing obligation. You will
respond,'/ Jo,' to each sentence as I read
it.’ . /
‘\ou solemnly promise and swear, that
you will never divulge the secrets of this
Order to any person or persons, nor fur any
pretext or purpose whatever, ex- ep. to’one
legally qualified to receive them.’
To this 1 respond I do.'
'You solemnly promise and swear that
you will vote for an Odd Fellow who rnav
he a candidate for any office in preference
to any oilier man without regard to what
political party he may be attached.’
'Ido.'
■You solemnly promise and sweat that
sohuld you ever be called upon to te.-tify in
| court against oil Odd Fellow who may be
! arraigned for any crime ur any purpose
j whatever, that you will studiously conceal
l any Evidence that may have a tendency jo
V'-raO T