The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1847-11-27

UP Its prayers Tor l1cr Majesty, and the
realm, under every sky, and ON every sea.
A bishop reads those prayers at Paris; and
one may hsten-an American wanderer
may listen, TO good, sweet, home-sounding
English. in performance Of those sacred Of
fees, which, if he be Of New England edu-
cation, are bound up in some measure with
his being.
Religious truth is not so closely treasured
in the hearts Of the Partisan world, as that
its ministers can exercise any considerable
control over the public feeling. Intercourse
between clergy and laity, seemed friendly
and familiar--rarely dictatorial on the one
side, or sIayish ON the other.
Many a time have | been with the good
natured Able, Of whom | have spoken, on
bis parochial visits flor there were some
sheep Of his old fock. who mad found their
way, like himself, to he Capital.
Al the top OF five pair ofofstairs in a dark
street near the Louvre, in a very old hotel,
lived quiet, deaf man, who had seen the
Swiss guard shot, down in the palace balco-
ny, from his own window--.who wore q
grizzled brown wig, and the seams of sixty
years in his cheeks yet the old gentleman
always hustled about in the liveliest posi-
bic welcome, whenever the Able paid him
visit. A matronly- looking woman, in
spectacles, the mistress of the house, always
arranged big armchair for the Able, and
the three friends used to discourse together,
and the tabby cat to pur upon the hearth
for all the world, as If they were true New
England gossips and Just as taree old peo-
pie might do, who study Canticle and Cate
chism, instead of Confessional and Creed
The old, deaf man, prided himself on
speaking six or seven words of English
very huently; but whenever | got beyond
good night, Sir--or, fine day, Sir; his deaf
ness grew upon him wonderfully.
A letter had come in one evening from a
young English girl, who had been pro-
tege OF the old mans, but who had now
gone back to her home The Able trans
lated it for him il was a sweet letter, and
touched the old mans heart and ! shall
never forget the expression, with which,
when the letter was ended, he repeated her
name after the Able, and said--chere fIlei
did not then know the story Of her asso-
citation with the old man, or it would not
have seemed so strange; it was told me af-
forwards, and if was not writing notes of
travel, should take the trouble to set it
down.
Cleric was a noble-hearted young fellow;
another friend of the Abbe's, the only son
of wealthy gentleman, who lived some
thirty leagues in the country. He was
studying for the priesthood at one Of the
Partisan colleges; poor fellow he never
served his priesthood here.
II had come back from the Auvergue,
full of life, and went through the old cor
ridor in the Rue de Seine, to see my friend
the Able. He opened the door softly. and
wore his priest-Iobe, and solemn look; he
shook my hand warmly, but pointed to a
gray-haired man who was writing in the corn
er, and put his finger on his lip.
Who is it : said |
Clenes father, said he.
And where is Cleric said |.
He died last night and the Able put his
finger on his lip, and turned to the old man.
The old man was writing TO his wife, tel
ling the mother how her only boy was dead.
Ii was hard work to do it. No wonder that
he bit the end Of his quill; no wonder that
he pressed his hand hard upon his forehead;
no wonder the Able put his finger on bis
lip.
So, thought !, Deaths grippe is very much
the same thing here, that it is everywhere
else; and Religion, whatever It be, and
however il soften, can not take away Who'll
ly the edge from human sorrow.
Mais IL est heureuI-but be is happy
said the Able; IL apah an bon oGur-he
had good heart.
And so there are great many good hearts
in Paris, though the Religion, as | said al
the beginning; and the Able must pardon
me; always seemed to me more Of senti-
ment, than PrinciPle.-Fresh Gleanings
dc.