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in the winter. While Charlotte and her looking steadily at the Western clouds, mother stood looking at them, they cut and asked her what she saw there. down five or six tall trees, which came “ It looks as if a storm was rising,' thrashing to the ground, and made the said Mrs. Ray, “and we must now set leaves and dust fly. They then lopped out for home. We are as much as two off the branches with their sharp axes, and miles from the house, and I fear that we cut up the trunk into logs.
shall get wet before we reach home.” Farther on, they fell in with a large lot Charlotte looked up at the clouds, and of ground which was entirely covered with saw that they were moving fast up the yellow flowers. Charlotte was delighted heavens. They were heavy and black, with the prospect, and wondered what and she knew that this appearance was a flowers they were.
Her mother told her sign of rain. She took hold of her moththey were mustard going to seed. Char-er's hand, and they shurried forward as lotte was surprised that so simple a thing fast as they could. They had gone but a as mustard should look so beautiful. But short distance, when the wind arose, and they now fell in with many other autumn blew the leaves and dust into the air. flowers, some of which were blue, others The tall trees bent, the woods roared, and were white, and some were of a dark red. so furious was the wind that Charlotte and
" How beautiful everything in the her mother were obliged to stop for a few world is !” cried Charlotte. “I thought moments, as they could not force their that when summer was gone, everything way against the wind. Then they heard looked dreary and dull.”
the large drops of rain come pattering All seasons have their beauties,” re- down upon the dry leaves.
Mrs. Ray plied Mrs. Ray, “ if we are only in a con- said that it was of no use to try to reach dition to enjoy them. In spring, the ice home, and she would endeavor to gain a begins to melt, the rivulets run, the ten- little cottage not very distant, on the othder grass peeps forth, with its lively er side of a corn-field near which they green, the willows put on their small were. But now the rain came down in leaves, and at last the early flowers ap- all its fury. Little rivers and pools began pear in the woods. In summer, you will to form in their path.
The sky grew see the flowers in full bloom, and the blos- darker, and the wind drove the rain disoms falling from the trees to give place rectly into their faces. Still they hurried to fruit. Then the woods are pleasant, forward, splashing through the water, and for the shade is deep, and the leaves stumbling over the stubble of the coinare thick upon the trees. Even winter field. has its delights.”
At length Charlotte heard some one Yes, mamma,
” said Charlotte, “I singing at a distance, whenever the wind know that very well; for last winter we held up a little, and she told her mother. had several very fine 'sleigh-rides, and the - We cannot be far off, if you
heard singlast time, we visited one house where they ing," said Mrs. Ray. “It is old Mrs. had a great many nuts that the boys had Brownell at her spinning-wheel. She is gathered, during the autumn, from tall very industrious, and does not seem to be trees. I think that the snow looks beau- much troubled by the storm.”. tifully too, when it lies on the fields, the Just then they came in sight of Mrs. rocks and hills - so very clean and white. Brownell's cottage. It was a one-story But it is most beautiful of all, when the house, and looked quite small to Charlotte, branches of the trees are covered with ice, who had always lived in a larger building. and the sun shines upon them. In the There were several large trees around the morning, there is frost upon the windows, cottage, which made a good shade in the and it is sometimes in the shape of houses, summer time ; but now, whenever there churches, and trees. The first time that came
a gust of wind, it roared loudly I saw it, I did not know what it was, and among them. But Charlotte had no time John said that Jack Frost had been draw- to make observations on the scenery ing pictures on the windows.”
around the cottage. Her mother opened Charlotte now saw that her mother was a little gate, and hurried her through the
garden to the house. An old lady sat at any longer. I will call and see you the spinning-wheel singing a hymn, but again before long.” she started up on seeing Mrs. Ray come Do so, my lady,” said Mrs. Brownin, and shook hands with her, and said ell, “and bring your little girl with you ; she was glad that the lady had not forgot- for I see that she is not unmindful of ten her.
those things which relate to virtue and to Mrs. Ray might easily have made it ap- peace.' pear that she had come abroad on purpose Mrs. Ray and Charlotte set out for to visit Mrs. Brownley, but she chose to home. The storm had passed over, and tell the truth. Therefore she smiled and all nature looked more lively for the rain. said—“I had certainly intended to visit When they had nearly reached home, you before a great while, but this time I Charlotte's mother said to her, came for my own convenience, as we were me, my dear, what is the most beautiful caught in the storm, and your house was thing that you have seen to-day?” the nearest shelter that I could find,” "I will, mamma,” said Charlotte ; "it
Mrs. Brownell smiled and said_“You was that old lady, so contented though so are none the less welcome for that, my poor, and so thankful to Providence for lady. But take off your things and dry what little she had.” them, for you have got wet.”
You have seen two kinds of beauty," Charlotte saw that there were but two said Mrs. Ray; “one was the beauty of rooms in the cottage. One of them con- the outward creation, and the other was tained a bed and some articles of clothing, the beauty of a faithful and hopeful spirit, while the room in which they sat, had a The beauty of the heart is called moral large old-fashioned fireplace, and was beauty, and that we may possess, howevpoorly supplied with furniture.
er old and wrinkled the body may be.” Mrs. Ray said to the old lady, "I see that you continue to be busy at your
LET US PRAY. wheel, though you must now be over sev. From the F.ench of Jules De Kess Equier. enty years of age.
To count on human joy is vain ; said Mrs. Brownell, “ I am
In this world sad or bright,
Our sorrows fall like summer rain, thankful for my health, and while I have
Our joys are few and light. that, I can pay my way by spinning flax."
More mourn than feast-imposture jeers “But do you not sometimes get weary And mocks the Prophet's words, of this mode of life, and feel lonesome ? More tombs than cradles us here, inquired Mrs. Ray.
More flies than summer birds. No, madam," said Mrs. Brownell ; Day after day, our joys grow less, “I am never weary when I know that I All that we work for dies;
In vain we wish for happiness, am doing right, and am never lonesome We touch it and it flies. while I feel that Divine Providence is
We wish that from the common sluice around me, and his handiwork is in
every The rainbow's light would glow; leaf, and his breath in every breeze. I We wish from citrons, orange juice,
From thorns that flowers would grow. know that it cannot be long before I shall go to Him, and therefore I think of Him We wish upon a stormless sea
To sail with rudder lost ; the more as the time draws nigh.”
We wish the martyr's victory Mrs. Ray then entered into conversa- Without the martyr's cross. tion with the old lady, and was highly We wish that on our lifted brow gratified to find that she was of a cheerful A star would sit in light, mind, and that her faith in the promises
And that the lightning's fitful glow,
Would show the port in sight. of the Scriptures was strong and fervent. The clouds then began to pass away,
We wish-oh! folly worse than vain ;
We wish-but is it wise? and the sun shone out clearly. “ After
Pray-mortals ! when the knees are bent all,” said Mrs. Ray, “ the storm has prov- Perhaps the soul may rise. ed to be nothing more than a shower, and Pray, pray! and ask His healing grace we will not intrude upon your hospitality For wounds the soul has known;
Hope has the nearest, dearest place
Before His holy throne.
M. C. P.
In holding out either hand, the one to the South. Many mothers in our own dear Em-
“ 'Tis worth a wise man's best of life, eaves, watch the robins and orioles that flit
'Tis worth a thousand years of strife, about among the orchard trees that hedge us
If thou canst lessen but by one,
The countless ills beneath the sun."
It is said that Napoleon the 1st was in the again we are defeated, for a bull of Bashan habit of foreshadowing his great military conthat goes ramping about the neighboring tests, and fighting his battles in advance upon barn-yard, tossing his horns, and pawing the the chess board. Then he would spend whole dust with his hoofs, drowns their voices with his nights in strategic operations, deploying his warlike roar. Scarcely has this sunk to quiet, pieces along this mimic field, routing his when another and more unwonted sound-the adversaries, check-mating their kings, and booming of cannon and the huzzas of excited winning or losing the game with all the ardor multitudes—comes up from the mile of village and interest he manifested on those broader streets, even in this secluded spot, driving all and grander fields, when living, breathing peaceful thoughts away. For we know by men were his machinery, rival kings his this, that another martial squadron of young opponents, and kingdoms and crowns the and stalwart men is filing on through our
stakes for which he played. As the game upon peaceful village, to one common centre and for the chess-board terminated, so he drew his one common purpose. We do not debate the auguries of the fate of the impending battle, question of the right or the wrong of this pur- anticipating victory, or darkly looking for pose, though we have our opinion; but we disaster as he had on the mimic field achieved think of the great aching of mother-hearts that the one or suffered the other. is filling this beautiful land from North to This kind of superstition, verging on fatalism, is not very uncommon. We all have our hasty and most inglorious retreat Like most signs, omens, and oracles, natural or super- of such backward movements, this proved a natural, to which we yield a certain vague grand and well-nigh fatal mistake, giving credence, scarce half-acknowledged perhaps, yet boldness and impudence to the rebels, and one nevertheless often exerting more influence quite demoralizing and weakening the cause over us than we are ourselves aware, and not of the government. This Port soon discovered unfrequently shaping the ends of before doubt-to his cost, when he found that the capital was ful phases of our life.
actually taken, and that any attempt on his We have been led to these remarks by watch- part to enter the barn-yard was met by a viging a curions and amusing little warfare lately orous assault from the amazonian rebels, who inaugurated, and still going on at intervals in putting him to flight, followed on the wing our domestic menage, and which, we know not hard after him, beating him with their pinions, wherefore, we have got into the habit of re and raising loud cries of victory until poor garding as a representative war. The battles Port, terrified and shrieking, gained the shelter have thus far been short and inglorious, yet of the house-door, where he crouched down as ridiculous as it may seem, each one of them completely cowed as ever deposed and conhas latterly seemed to come before us as a querel ruler was. At first this scene of bravprophecy, or rather as a type of the battles in ery and discomfiture struck us as infinitely a more serious and more momentous conflict. ludicrous and amusing, but after two or three May the oracle, undignified as are its utter- repetitions, Port yielded, and went no more to ances, speak true.
his dominions. Then suddenly the farce The details are these. We have a venerable seemed to assume portentous and prophetic house-dog-in his prime a bold and mighty importance. ** This rebellion must be put hunter, but latterly in his failing years, given down,” said we. “Port, are you a coward ? to indolence and inactivity. Honest and faith- Do you give up beaten without a contest? Go ful in his nature, he bears, according to the to the barn-yard and defend yourself.” Port opinion of a friend who takes great interest in looked steadily in our face for a minute, unhis welfare, the grave and reverend expression derstanding as plainly as you do, rose with of an octogenarian divine in the neighborhood, difficulty to his feet, poor old dog—and walked and by his general deportment wins the kind composedly out to the disputed territory. The feelings of all. It is time for Port to retire to rebels were ready, furiously attacking him as the ease and unambitious quiet of private usual, but this time Port did not flinch. life. But like many another with greater pre- Though flapped, and pecked, and beaten, he tentions to wisdom than himself, Port finds it stood his ground like the old hero he was in difficult to grow old gracefully, and having his early days, shaking the Oriskany hills long been monarch of the farm-yard he still with his deep growling, and facing the fury of naturally enough desires to continue so. In- his assailants until nearly exhausted; when deed his authority there is still generally from the conservative clans of the farm-yard, acknowledged, and he gravely asserts it by which had all this while remained obstinately driving out all intrusive cattle, keeping the neutral, a brisk little tan-terrier, like the poultry within bounds, occasionally barking forlorn hope of an army, rushed unexpectedly obstreperously at an echo which never fails to the rescue. He came none too soon, but his provokingly to bark back again, and other interference was effective. He was everywhere wise making himself generally useful. But all at one and the same time ; snapping at the sunshine has its shadow, and it may be that heads, the wings, the feet of the turkies, all Port's serene old age is destined to be seriously the while covering with the shield of his slendisturbed. We are sorry to say, symptoms of der little person the weary and exhausted, but treasonable rebellion have of late covertly still brave old warrior, nor ceasing the commanifested themselves in a department of the bat until the rebels were in their turn put to state, and these a few days since culminated in flight. Gyp has evidently no particular rean open revolt, when two widowed turkies set epect for that portion of the fair sex which up a secession standard and boldly defcd the steps out of its proper sphere to enter the government. Never was war-worn veteran arena from time immemorial consecrated ruler more taken by surprize than Port. At almost exclusively to the sterner sex. Whether first he seemed quite incapable of meeting the he ever heard of Boadicea, Semiramide, Cleopaexigency, and we blush to confess, beat a tra, or other female warriors we know not,
but he evidently leans to the opinion of a or, of which he spoke in the most touching large class of biped philosophers that, whatever woman's rights may be, they who assume “I live a life apparently very miserable," the vestments or prerogatives of men must said he. “I have no more body than just also submit to their discomfitures. Port was enough to enable me to suffer horribly. But full of gratitude to his brave little friend, who what of that? Nature is so beautiful that I has since been his constant and watchful ally; could even wish never to die, that I might gaze several skirmishes have since taken place, for upon her always.” the war is by no means quite over. Symptoms He died a few days since, and I accompanied of giving way are, however, discernible in the him to the cemetery. He was a Protestant. rebel widows, and we look daily for the strik- This I discovered only at the moment of his ing of the secession flag, and a return to their interment, by certain variations in the form of allegiance, when we have no doubt the gen- the funeral ceremonies. Poor fellow ! of the erous Port, overlooking their revolt, will re- Catholic priests who walked beside the bearers, ceive them once more into all the old favor. followed by a weeping father and grieving
friends, one alone lifted his hat, and he walked
afterwards around him, with a disturbed and Alphonse Karr, pretty well known in this sorrowful face; the others stopped, looking on country as the author of Voyages autour de without giving any sign of respect either for mon jardin, in his later work, Promenades the dead, or for the grief of those who mournhors de mon jardin, tells the following touch- ed him. ing incident, which we translate.
I remember that last year, the funeral cor“Since my residence in Nice, I have occa- tege of a Vaudois heretic was insulted and assionally met in the Rue de la croix de-Marbre, sailed with stones by the populace, and that a a young man whose intellectual and expressive bishop afterwards insisted that the body should countenance attracted my attention. I found be removed from consecrated ground. I am, him always seated in the sunshine and in the however, far from supposing that the Catholic same place. Entering into conversation with priests incite the people to these savage and him one day, I learned that he was the grand barbarous acts. But perhaps they take no son of the artist Hauser, was himself a distin- pains to instruct them in regard to those pringuished painter, educated in Italy, but had ciples of charity which always lead to respect been arrested in the midst of a brilliant career, for the dead. by an inexorable malady.
At the field of repose, the pastor pronounc“ Seldom have I listened to more interesting ed a discourse, in which, after a just eulogium conversation than his. Possessed of high cul
on the dead, and some truly Christian remarks ture, and spending most of his time, where his expressive of entire confidence in the Divine illness prevented him from painting, in read- mercy, he expressed some regrets, evidently ing, his brain was far from being like that of tempered by respect for the grief of the assistmany, continually absorbing but never digest- ants, that doubts in relation to certain doging. He promptly assimilated knowledge of mas, had accompanied Octave d' Albuzzi even whatever sort, each new acquisition serving to to the last moments of life — life where intelnourish a very bold and very original mind.
ligence had not become slowly enfeebled, like “With an attenuated and almost lifeless the light of a lamp whose oil is exhausted, but body, he was one of the most living men I ever had been suddenly extinguished with the body,
He passionately loved all that is beauti- like the light of a lamp that is broken. Neverful and grand. He would descant on the theless, said he, we ought not to doubt the themes of love, the sun, the sea, the trees, the mercy of God which is infinite. heavens, poetry, music, liberty, like a great No, we ought not to doubt it; we cannot poet. A sublime image, a rich or harmonious doubt it without doubting his justice and his tint upon a cloud, a leaf or a rock, intoxicated power. But I myself should not have thought him with delight.
of promising mercy ; I should have spoken of “Seated on his bench, or lying upon a bed, it as already manifested. where suffering at last confined him, whether
Octave Albuzzi, thou who by the Divine mer. the windows were open, or the sun shone cy hast just been delivered from the sad prison through the panes, he imagined to himself of thy body, thou wert a great artist; so to sweet music, harmonious arrangements of col- speak, one elected from the small number of