« ÎnapoiContinuați »
rested her dusky cheek upon her bosom, while versation with her before they parted. They her own cheek was laid tenderly against the were alone in the apartment where Tov-is had dark tresses of her burden. She spoke again breathed her last ; for the aged Sagamore did but faintly : “The child of Wau-sha-ra is on the not share his grief with any one. “Clarence, dark path, but there is light above, and she is Clarence Nelson,” said Helen, rousing from the going upward.” And motioning Wab-sha-ash, pensive attitude in wbich she had been sitting she continued, " Hist, hist, for a moment. Go for some time, “what do you expect me to say back to the forest, and bury her gently beneath at this moment? You heard the last words of the green tree, beside the bright water she loved her who so lately died, her last request to me. in her childhood, where the sachem first taught What do you wish me to say in regard to it?" her to guide the canoe; and when the bright Nelson sighed deeply. “ What your own corsunlight at morning is dancing across the green rect feelings may dictate. I have no right to sod where she lies in her sleep, and the moon- expect or even ask, any thing else. But I know beams are resting, so sweetly at evening, think my crime; and though to possess my first, my Tow-is has gone to the home of the brave."only love, would be the boon I should most are The last word was sighed rather than spoken, dently ask of high Heaven, I cannot, do not exand Helen felt the heart beneath her hand grow pect it. Perhaps I ought to anticipate the deepstill. Running Brook slept to wake no more. est reproach ; but Helen Hyde never reproached
A deep silence pervaded the room for a few any one ; and I feel that she will leave me with moments; then with a majestic step, as if his God and my own conscience. Ah! she could soul had gained strength from witnessing the not leave me to surer punishment." peaceful exit of his child, Wau-sha-ra left the No, Clarence, I have no reproaches for you. apartment; and Clarence and Helen were alone I commiserate your unhappy state, knowing with the dead. Neither spoke for some time. that he that doeth wrong shall receive for the At length, laying her charge gently back upon wrong he hath done;' and could I bring peace her couch, Helen murmured, “ Thy harp of life to your heart, I would quickly do so. The boon was too feebly strung, sweet forest child. The you would ask of Heaven is not the highest, far chill blasts of Time thou couldst not endure, and
from it. Ask rather that the peace of God may God took thee. It is well."
hallow your soul, and lead you to think often of “Yes," said Nelson, gazing sadly on the in- the things that are beyond this vale of tearsanimate form before him, and I it was, whose that, with the regrets that must at times arise crime chilled her warm heart and hushed its in your mind, there may come also lofty aspiramusic forever; but God knows I meant no tions for a higher life, above the frailties and erwrong to the pure souled creature, nor did I rors of poor human nature. I know you are dream such a fount of tenderness flowed be capable of the best and noblest efforts. I know, neath that dusky bosom. But for me, she might
but for one misdirected ambition, you would now be the pride of another, as brave as Wau- have merited your own entire approbation, and sha-ra; and see how she lies, the victim of my what more can I say? Is there not time to reyouthful folly."
trieve the Past ? Not by marrying her from Uttering these words he darted from the room,
whom you have been estranged more than a leaving Helen alone with the departed.
score of years, who has long since buried all At her own request, the old chief permitted thought of such an earthly tie, and who has her her to array bis daughter for burial. Dressed in future course marked out to her by the hand of her most beautiful attire, and garlanded with a Providence. I was once a wife,-when I had few simple blossoms, which Helen had procured no earthly friend to guide and protect me, when from the neighboring fields, Running Brook was my guardian slumbered in the grave, and vilborne to the place designated by herself, and
lanous hands had robbed me of that which his with the bright sunshine of an April morning,
careful bounty had left for my support, and I illumining the silent depths of the open grave,
was wholly alone in the world, one like yourthey laid her to rest where the waters were
self, in all that is good and noble, only never dashing bene.ith the drooping willow.
tempted as you have been, besought me to fill Having fulfilled her duties to the dead, Helen the place in his heart and home, made vacant prepared to depart to her home. She perceived by the loss of another. After mature reflection that Nelson was restisss, and watched her every I consented, telling him of the severe discipline movement, as though he would have some con- I had experienced in my youth; and with him I
I weary, heavenly Father, of this senseless noise
and strife ; I would no longer sojourn here : O for that high
er life, Where light and love reign uncontroled-by Jesus
ever blessed, Where wicked ones cease troubling, and the
weary are at rest.
looked forward to many peaceful days. Alas! how soon did this light fade also. Twelve hours passed, and he lay shrouded for the tomb, bereft of life while saving another from imminent peril. Two little orphaps were left to my care, and to them my future life is dedicated. When they need me no longer as a protector, which time will soon arrive, I shall still dwell with them as counsellor and adviser. I have a high and holy hope that bears me up; and in that land of love which you yourself so beautifully portrayed to the gentle being who has just left us, I expect to meet a world, all pure and happy, and to know sorrow no more."
She was silent, and rising, Nelson approached and took her proffered hand. “Helen,” said he, “had I in early life taken your advice, I should not have wrecked the happiness of both of us as I did. I bitterly repent it, and by my deeds you shall know that my repentance is genuine. No sinful weakness shall ever come near my heart again, that a firm resolution and bumble petitions to God, can avert; and if in youth I was unworthy of one so good and lovely as yourself, my maturer years shall show that I might have made myself deserving of you.”
Taking her arm within his own, and bearing in his hand a curious basket filled with ornaments, all the work of Running Brook, and presented to her by Wau-sha-ra, he led her to the boat in which she was to take passage, and with a “God bless you," on the lip of each, they parted.
If the reader is curious to know any thing further of Clarence and Helen, he may sometime see an elderly gentleman, with a grave, even sad aspect, musing alone on the high bluff that overlooks the village of Mackinaw, or standing by a green mound among the willows on shore not far distant. Or he may, in a fine mansion in Central New York, chance upon an old lady, with the most placid countenance, and gentlest manners in the world, surrounded by a happy group, who all love her dearly and learn many a lesson from her lips. That old gentleman is Clarence Nelson,--that venerable lady is the beautiful Helen Hyde. Among the red men he is still known as the Black Otter; and Wausha-ra has never forgotten the Pale woman who came to his dying child; and he ever calls her Loh-e-tah, "Love."
But few instances are recorded of females born in humble life and obscure stations, rising to the possession of a throne. We have one instance in sacred history, of one thus elevated, who afterwards accomplished much good in rescuing her people from destruction. Then we have the instance of Catharine, empress of Russia, Josephine the beautiful, and accomplished wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, and the annals of Rome give us the name of the fair Eudocia, who by her beauty and talents was raised from poverty and humility to govern hearts and sway the sceptre of power.
She was the daughter of a Grecian philosopher who lived in the fifth century of the Christian
M. J. C. MAXLEY.
The grave of the virtuous dead is like everblooming flowers.
The lessons of the schools were daily in- by her to stations of dignity and trust in the stilled in her willing ear by her parent, and study empire. Much of her time was spent in study; was regarded as a pleasant pastime. While her she composed many volumes, some of which mind was rapidly developing in beauty and have stood the test of the most impartial critigoodness, her personal beauty attracted the most cism. Her child, the young Eudosia, was sep2ardent admiration. To a graceful and slender rated from her at the age of 6fteen, by her marfigure, was added a fair complexion, blue eyes of riage with the emperor of the West. brilliancy and intelligence, dark brown hair, Her heart was sad, after the departure of ber which lay in many a rich and wavy ringlet over only child, and she asked and obtained leave to her neck and shoulders. The philosopher cher- make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, ibe place enished for his child the most ardent hopes. Her deared to every Christian mind, by the many own fertile imagination, too, pictured forth the interesting events connected with scriptural bisfuture, redolent with every joy-devoid of care. tory. Her request was granted by the indulgent How wise is that Providence that withholds the emperor. Accompanied by a courtly train, she trials and vicissitudes of later years from the received the homage of multitudes of her gratebright anticipations of joyous youth! Just as ful subjects as she passed. The poor were made she was passing into graceful womanhood, glad by her alms and kind attentions. At Antiher father died; leaving his little patrimo- och she gave a public oration from a throne of ny to be divided between his two sons, and gold. She tarried awhile at Jerusalem doing a mere pittance to his child in whose mind was much good by her generosity, and visiting the instilled more durable wealth than the dross of different spots in its vicinity once trudden by !. earth. He deemed the merit and talents of his holy feet. daughter a sufficient inheritance. Yet no re- But enemies had arisen in her absence,- the proach fell from her lips. Long and sincerely mind of the emperor was alienated from her, she mourned the loss of her parent: treated un- and at her return, instead of an affectionate kindly by her brothers who envied and hated greeting, she was spurned with coldness and her for her superior abilities, she formed the he. neglect. Finding it impossible to regain the roic resolution to leave them and seek for her. affections of him whom she still loved with all self friends among strangers. She had heard in the ardor of fond woman's nature, she resolved her quiet home, of the splendors of the Court of to return again to the distant solitude of JerusaConstantinople, and of the piety and virtues of lem, there to pass the remainder of her earthly Pulcheria, the sister of the young emperor The- sojourn. But the malice of her foes again purodosius, and she resolved to go thither, seek an sued her. Stripped of her honors her memory interview, and relate her grievances.
was unjustly condemned in the eyes of the world. The lofty Pulcheria received the fair young Yet she found solace in the religion of Jesus, scholar with cordiality, gave her her friendship, which she had long before embraced, and the and in due time loved her as a sister, secretly re- venom of her foes fell harmless at her feet. Yet solving that she should indeed become one. The trouble seemed to accumulate, and her last days emperor of the East was then in his twentieth were embittered by the news of the emperor's year; deeply enthusiastic, he was prepared ar- death, and the exile of her child who was carried dently to love the fair original, when he had a prisoner from Rome to Carthage. seen the portrait of the young Greek maiden, Hers was no ordinary lot; with a deeply senhis sister's guest. He insisted upon seeing her sitive spirit, she fully realized and most keenly immediately. A formal presentation took place, felt the joys and sorrows it was hers to experihe declared his love, was accepted, and the royal She had known power and felt its empnuptials were soon after celebrated with all the tiness. She bad known misfortune and felt its pomp and splendor worthy of his lofty rank. discipline. Yet peacefully the sun of her life Years passed with their changes, yet naught but went down in her solitude, obscured 'tis true by increasing happiness did they seem to bring to clouds, yet destined to rise again in increasing the affectionate inmates of the Byzantine pal- splendor. She died at Jerusalem in the fiftyace. Alas, that the ardent love of dearest friends seventh
year of her age, protesting with her dyshould ever wax cold! The birth of a daughter ing breath her innocence, and freely forgiving gave new joy to the hearts of the royal parents, her enemies. and the fair empress deemed herself the most fortunate of her sex. Her brothers were raised
S. M. PERKINS.
self-interest, and cold reality, banish for ever the WEAKNESS AND STRENGTII.
elysian ideas of youthful romance. There is a “I fult the thews of Anakim,
flower, the common couslip of the fields, which, The pulses of u Titan's heart."
by reason of associations, for thirty years of my
life I never saw without emotion ; and although No rim of glory edged the thunderous cloud I might sanctify this feeling, I confess my belief That o'er my pathway hung ;
that it has not contributed to the general happiThe Earth put on her funeral weeds and shroud,
ness of my life; from reverence at first it gradAnd Seas their death-song sung.
ually became a disease, induced a morbid indifMy spirit stood aghast, and cried to God!
ference, and undermined and destroyed the And lo, the answer came !
healthful sources of enjoyment. The earth once more by Summer's feet was trod,
Toward the close of a very lovely spring day The sun shot forth his fame.
--and such a lovely one, to my fancy, has never
beamed from the heavens since–I carelessly I felt a spirit kindled in my soul
plucked a cowslip from a copse side, and gave Titanic in its might ;
it to Constance. 'Twas on that beautiful evenThe drum-beat of my pulses gave the roll
ing when she told me all her heart; as, seated To the victorious fight.
on a mossy bank, she dissected with downcast I went abroad and knew the earth was firm,
eyes, every part of the flower: chives, pointal, And glorious were the skies ;
petal, all were displayed, though I am sure she I felt no more my kindred with the worm,
never even thought of the class. My destiny But owned all human ties.
through life I considered as fixed from that hour.
Shortly afterward I was called by the death of a And now the thews of Anakim were weak
relative, to a distant part of England; upon my To sinewy might I own ;
return Constance was no more. The army was I live for God, and for his Word I speak,
my original destination; but my mind began to The Truth my regal throne.
be enfeebled by hourly musing upon one subject June, 1851.
alone, without cessation or available termination; yet reason enough remained to convince me that, without change and excitement, it
would degenerate into fatuity. THE INFLUENCE OF A FLOWER.
The preparation and voyage to India, new
companions, and ever-changing scenes, hushed There are many brief instances and appar- my feelings, and produced a calm that might be ently trivial events in our lives, that, at the called a state of blessedness-a condition in moment of occurrence, are almost unnoticed; which the ignoble and inferior ingredients of our but which, from some association, make an im. nature were subdued by the divinity of mind. pression on the memory at many periods of af- Years rolled on in almost constant service ; nor ter-life, or may be remembered through exist- do I remember many of the events of that time, ence with undiminished freshness; when others, even with interest or regret. In one advance of of the most seeming interest at the time, fade the army to which I was attached, we had some from our recollections, or become abraded from skirmishing with the irregulars of our foe; the our mind by a constant collision with the pass- pursuit was rapid, and I fell behind my detaching transactions of our days. It is in early life ment, wounded and weary, in ascending a ghaut; chiefly, perhaps entirely, that deep and indelible resting in the jungle, with languid eyes fixed on sensations of regard are made; and impressions the ground, without any particular feeling but in those days are often recorded upon an unsul. that of fatigue and the smarting of my shoulder, lied tablet, that admits in after hours of no erase
a cowslip caught my sight! My blood rushed to or superscription. How deep are our my heart--and, shuddering, I started on my feet, school-boy reminiscences; and the kindnesses re- felt no fatigue, knew of no wound, and joined ceived, and the friendships formed at such periods
my party. I had not seen this flower for ten commonly constitute more enduring characters
years! but it probably saved my life--an Euroon our minds than all the after-occurrences, half- pean officer, wounded and alone, might have heartless transactions, perhaps, of later bours; tempted the avarice of some of the numerous when darker passions arise-ambition, avarice, and savage followers of an Indian army. In the
cooler and calmer hours of reflection since, I have traded with them, and had many dealings with often thought that this appearance was a mere them, and I have found them as bonest and upphantom, an illusion - the offspring of weakness: right as any Christians, to say the least. I saw it but for a moment, and too iinperfectly Jones. Hem, hem! That may be, for they to be assured of reality; and whatever I believ. know their doctrine is so bad that they hare to be. ! ed at the time seems now to have been a paint- hare well to hide it. ing of the mind rather than an object of vision ; Suth. But, my dear sir, did not our Savior but how that image started up, I conjecture not bid us to judge a tree by its fruits ? Don't you
- the effect was immediate and preservative. preach so? Isa't that the way to judge ? This Rower was again seen in Spain; I had the Jones. Why-y-e-s-gen-er-al-ly. command of an advance party, and in one of the
Smuth. Generally! but who shall decide recesses of the Pyrenees, of the romantic, beau- where the exception is to be made ? Must the tiful Pyrenees, upon a secluded bank, surround
exception be only where good fruit comes from ed by a shrubbery so lovely as to be noticed by
a tree that is not in our orchard ? many-was a cow slip. It was now nearly twen- Jones. It is a difficult matter, I own. But ty years since I had seen it in Mysore; I did yon will allow that there are men who hold ternot start, but a cold and melancholy chill come
rible errors— some infidels, who are virtuous in over me; yet I might possibly have gazed long
their dealings and are good neighbors. Eren on this humble little lower, and recalled many the Papal Church has good men in the calendar dormant thoughts, had not a sense of duty (for of her saints. we momentarily expected an attack) summoned
SMITH. Very true, sir, very true; but I do my attention to the realities of life; so, drawing not argue that here and there is one person the back of my hand across my eyes, I cheered among the Universalists that is good, I have my party with “Forward, lads!" and pursued spoken of them as a class; and I think that we my route, and saw it no more, until England
should acknowledge virtue wherever we see it, and all her fowery nieadows met my view; but in all sects and churches. many days and hard service had wasted life, and Jones. Be careful, sir; you are on the road woro the fine edge of sensibility away; they to Universalism! were now before me in endless profusion, almost Smith. Am I? Then I shall think better of unheeded, and without excitement. 1 viewed
that religion which is arrived at hy being candid not the cowslip when fifty as I had done with and just to what is good in all men. When Na. the eyes of nineteen.
[Selected.] thaniel said, “What good thing can come out
of Nazareth ?” Jesus did not orerlook what was good in him because Nathaniel was so prejudi.
ced, but he said, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, A REAL DIALOGUE.
in whom there is no gnile." Jones. Good morning, Mr. Smith.
Jones. There is no use of arguing with you. Smith. Welcome, Mr. Jones! take a seat,
I fear the cunning heresy has entrapped you. sir. Quite a pleasant evening out.
Smith. I am sorry, sir, that you should have Jones. Quite so, but rather chilly.
so poor an opinion of my mind and heart as to Smith. Little nervous perhaps, feel the cold
think argument of no avail. Our Savior did more sensibly.
not think so when he said to the people, “Why Jones. May be, may be. I am rather ner- even of yourselves judge ye not what is right ?" vous just now. I've heard of your inteniion to
Jones. Those times were different. Put I let your children go on the Universalist excur- must leave you - I just remember a particular sion to-morrow-is it so?
call I have to make. Good evening. (Gorsoul.) ! Smith. Why, parson, I have been thinking
Smith. Good erening, sir. (Soliloquizing.) of it.
And is it so ? must we be told to-day
The giant heresy promotes but sin,
! Smith. Why so, sir?
In kindness, honesty, and truth with us, Jones. It's wrong, very wrong. You endan
We must forget the pulpit's cry, and say, ger their morals.
They live aright to corer up their faith!" Smith. Why, my dear sir, I must say I have lived on intimate terms with Universalists, have
Nay! with a broader charity than this,