The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1842-12-09

were destined 10 torn union here below, which
all eternity should only bind more closey--she
would reply, with her finger on the heart shaped
jewel; "1his token, which have worn so long,
is The assurance that you may"'
Aud secondly, Ralph Cranfeld had firm belief
that there was mighty treasure hidden some
where in the earth, of which the burial place would
be revealed to none bul him. When his feet should
press upon the mysterious spot, there would he a
hand before him, painting downward-whelher
Oh the side Of rocky prccipicc, or pcrchonce
hand Of flame in empty air, he could not tell; but,
al least, he would discern hand, the fore finger
pointing downward and beneath it the Latin
word I9fo}i-Dig! And digging Whereabouts, the
gold in coined ingots, of the precious stones, or Of
whatever else The treasure might consist would be
certain TO reward his toll.
The third and last Of the miraculous events IN
the life of this hs h-desined man. was to be the
attainment Of extensive influence and sway oven
his fellow creatures. Whether he were to be Il
king, and founder Of an hereditary throne, or the
victorious leader of the people conlending for their
freedom, or by apostle Of n purified aud rcgenera-
ted faith, was left for luluriy to show. As mess
engers of the sign, the which Rail- PHI Cranfeld
might recognize the flted Summons, three
venerable men were 10 claim audience Of him.
The chief among them, dignied and majestic
person, arraycd, it may BIT supposed, in the flow
ing garments Of an ancient sage would be the hear
er Of wand, or prophets rod With this wand,
or rod, or staff the venerable sage would trace n
certain iIgure IN the air, and then proceed to make
known his vcn-insnuctcd message; which, if
obcyed, must lead 10 glorious results.
! With proud fate before him, in the flush of his
imaginative youth, Ralph CranGed had sci forth
to seek The maid, the treasure, and the venerable
sage, with his gh of extended empire. And had
he found Ihcm' Alas! it was not with the as
poet of a triumphant man who had achieved mob
Ter destiny than all his fellows, but rather with the
gloom of one struggling against peculiar and con-
tiGual adversely, that he now passed homcward to
his mothers cottage. lie had come back, but only
for time 10 lay inside the pilgrims staff, trusting
that his weary manhood would regain somewhat
of the elasticity Of youth in the spot where this
three fold fate had been Mreshown him. There
Ind been few chnuges in the village; rDr it was not
ono Of hose thriving pIaces when Years pros
pery makes mora than the havoc OF century's
dccay;5ut, like gray hair in Young mans head,
an Anticipated liule town, full Of old maids, and
aged cls, aGd moss grown dwellings. Few SEEM
ed to be the clnngcs here The dropping clns,
indeed, had more majestic spread; the weather
hackened houses were adorned with Il densrr
lhnlch olycrdlnt moss; and doubtless there were
Il few more grave stones in the burial ground in
s'libed with names that hld once been familiar in
the village street. Yet, summing up all the mis-
chief that len years had wrought, i, seemed scacr-
$ more than if Ralph Crandcld had gone forth that
very morning, and dreamed day dream I'LL the
twilight, aud then turned back again. Blu, his
heart grew cold, because the village did no, re-
nchhcr him as he remembered the village.
"lcre is the chanse!' sighed he, striking his
hand upon his breast. "Nho is this man ofthougi
and care, weary with word wandering, and heavy
with Disappointed hopes The youth returns not,
who went forth so joyously!"
And now Ralph Cmnicld was Mt his mothers
gate, in front oflhe small house where the old Ia.
dy, with slender but sulliccn; means, had KEEP,
herself comfortably during her sons long absence
Admitting himself within the enclosure lie leaned
against great, old tree, trlng with his own i'm
paenceas people often do in those intervals when
years are summed into a moment. lie took n
minute survo! of the dwelling--ils windows ,brigh-
tened with the sky CLEAN, lis doorway, with the
half of n milestone for n step, and the Ginlly-irac-
ed path waving thence TO the gate. He made
l,iends again with lis chdhood's friend the old
Tee against which he leaned: and ganciug his c,
adown It's trunk, bchcd some thing hn, excited
melancholy smile. 1t was hulEoliileraicd in
scrip'ion-hc Latin word Mfo3i-which he re.
mcnbered to have carved in the bark Of the tree,
with the whole days toll, when he had first begun
to muse o!out his exalted destiny. 1t might be nc.
counted IL rather singular coincidence, that the
bark, jus, above the inscription, had put forth an
eScrc,ccnre, shat rot TN Ike hand with the fore
finger pointing ob!iquey at the word Of fate Such.
at least, was It's appearance in the dusky light.
"Now crcdnIous man. said RI PHI Cranlicd
care'essIy 10 himself, "'nght suppose tha, the
treasure which have sought round the world lies
buried, after all, at the very door of my mothers
dwelling. That would be a as, iudeed!
More he thought no. about the matter; for now
the door opened and an elderly woman appeared
on tie threshold, pcering into The dusk to discover
who ii might be that had inrudcd on her premises,
and vas standing in the shadow Of her tree. 1t
was Ralph CranicId's mother. Pass we over
their greeting, and leave the one to her joy ana the
other 10 his rest if quiet resi- he found