Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1847-03-12

80 ~ htINAChN
40 destroy life, and bring mourning into
families, and misery into the world, seems 10
me cruel, instead of glorious"
80, but the rich dress, the fine music. and
the glittering arms, think of them And then,
the honor and the praise! To have hosts
OF soldiers under your command, and all
the people talking Of your courage, and
distant nations applauding your victories |;
how can you be blind TO such greatness as
that
ibid not our minister say last Sunday,
from the pulpit, that tho end Of life was the
test of its greatnessl' Now, Alexander Of
Maceden, whom YOU call the Great. fell in a
fit of drunkenness. and Donaparte died on a
desolate Island, like a chained wild beast"
A." am sorry 10 see you are so easily pre-
JUDGED. Indeed, | must Soy you haves very
narrow mind. | doubt whether you are ca
pable Of admiring heroes. You had better,
by all means, be a farmer. Your highest
ambition, | suppose, is to break a pair Of
steers, or ride a dull cart-horse TO market"
The voice of the father was heard from an
adjoining apartment,
"Boys, go to bed!"
Thus ended, for that night, their conversa-
ton on martial glory, the only subject on
which they strongly disagreed.
A few lustrums swiftly and silently pass
ed by. How quiet is the lapse of time in an
agricultural village! Masses of men are not
there to level the hillocks, or rear the red brick
where the forest waves, or toss the slumber-
ing waters into the cauldron of the steam
spirit, or give the green lanes 10 the tramp of
its iron horse.
Seed-time and harvest alterna,e-the beau
tiful seasons complete their annual round
The child comes forth from the arms of its
mother, and guides the plough a little more
silver is sprinkled on the heads that have
passed their prime-the old man leans more
heavily upon his statf-a few more green
mounds are visible in the church ward.
The features of the rural scenery which we
have already described, were but SLIGHTLY
changed. The elm had thrown its rroined
branches somewhat higher and marked out a
broader circumference of shade. The brook
still told an unfinished tale to listening sum-
mer, and in winter incrusted with frost-work
and diamonds its root-wreathed basin. On
the roof Of the farmhouse, more moss had
gathered, and its rough brown fence was re-
placed by a white paling.
Within, was the same cheerful fire that
blazed when we last visited it. BY its hearth
stone stood the same arm chairs, but its for
mer occupants had become tenants of that
lowly bed which no rising sun awakens.-
In their place sat the eldest son, and by his
side a woman of mature age and pleasing
countenance, on whose knee rested a fair in
FAINT. On a pallet, in a shaded nook of the
apartment, two little ones quietly breathed in
the sleep of innocence, and at a small table,
two boys with thoughtful brows pondered
their lessons. A winter storm was raging,
and as the blast shook the III the
farmer said to his wife,
HJn cuch cnld piuhtc I cappot holm tb;ply-
ing Of my poor brother. But so many years
have passed since we heard aught of him,
and his way of life was so full Of danger, that
it is most probable he no longer needs our
sympathy"
Husband, just as you began 10 speak, |
thought | heard some one knock, or was it
the wind striking the old elm tree?"
On opening the door, a motionless form
was found extended near the threshold. A staff
was still feebly grasped in his hand, and a
crutch, that supplied the place of a lost limb,
had fallen at his side; with difficulty he was
borne in, and pillowed near the fire. After
the application of reStoratives, he opened his
eyes, and seemed to gaze on every surround
ing object-clock and oaken table, and large
old bible-as on some lecollected friend
Then there was some faint sound of brother.'
That tone touched the tender memories of
, IN OCulos thGll NCiCOltl " lllG DOOT
wanderer, with the broken frame, the latter
/; ed garment, was heartfelt. Yet their tears
flowed freshly at his pathetic tones.
"See, | have come lone TO die!"
0 They FASTENED to spread the refreshing re-
past, and to press him to partake. Afterwards
. they induced him 10 letire to rest without
taxing his exhausted strength by converse
ton. The mkt morning he was unable to
rise. They sat by his couch, ~solacing his
worn spirit with narratives of the changes
that had befallen them and other friends in
the peaceful spot of his birth. AT intervals
he mingled his own sad recital.
81 have had many troubles. But that
Y which hath most bowed me down inwardly,
9 was my disobedience n~leaving home agaiusl
: the wishes, and without the knowledge o.
t my parents, to be a soldier. have felt the
: pain of my wounds, but the sting of con
= science is keener. Hunger and thirst | have
known, and the prisons of a foreign land
4; When | lay sick and neglected, il woulC
# sometimes seem, in the fever-dream, that II,
mother bent kindly over me, as she would i
| had only the head-ache-or that my fathe
/ came with the great Bible in his hand, 10 read
as he used TO do, before prayers, morning ant
evening. Then l cried out in agony, i an
# no longer worthy to be called thy son."
He paused, overcome with emotion, AMI
his brother FASTENED to assure him of thei
I perfect forgiveness, and of the feryor will
which he was brought ever before the family
S altar as the son erring yet beloved.
d "Ah, those prayers! They have followed
9 me like angels wings. But for them | nigh
e have been a reprObate both to God and man.
BY little and little, as his feebleness ad
? mitted, he told the story of his wanderings
He had been in warfare both by sea anC
, land. He had heard the deep ocean resounC
|, TO battle thunders, and seen earth saturated
with the red shower from the bosom of he
sons. He had served in the armies 4 Eu
rope, and pursued the hunted Indian in biz
own native cline. He had plunged reck
lessly amid the thickest dangers, seeking
every where the glory that dazzled his how