Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1850-08-08

ed, and given to worldly follies. In his eyes
he was a mere pleasure-seeker; one who, with
out religious principles, was afioat upon the
great ocean of life possessed of neither chart
nor compass. To resign his daughter into the
hands of such man, he considered little bet
ter than an act of insanity, and he would never
consent to do it.
The final result was, that Mary left her ia
theirs house secretly, and was married to Bald
win. When she wrote home, conformity with
her husband announcing the fact, and earnestly
desiring opposition to what was inevitable
might no longer exist, the old man returned no
answer. They wrote again, but he remained
silent. With her hand upon her heart to re-
press its agitated pulsations, Mary then went
back to her fathers house, and sought forgive
ness. But her fearful, imploring face could not
move the inAexible old man. Sternly he way
ed her away, uttering as he did so, the words
You have dissolved the tie between us; you
are no longer my child
With fainting spirit, Mary went back to
her home, and fell, with a gush of tears and
cry of pain, upon the breast of her husband.
He asked no questions, for he understood all
too well. But he held her tightly to his
bosom, while he cursed the evil spirit of unfor-
givness that had so wronged his innocent, low
ing, gentle-hearted bride.
No further attempt was made, on the part of
the young couple, to bend the old man from his
stern spirit of resentment. Months passed.
nay, even years went by, and Deacon Prescott,
who, shortly after her marriage, removed to
another city with her husband. Mary CORES
ponded with her sister and mother, but her fa-
ther would not see her letters, nor hear with
patience any allusion that was made to her.
But he was not permitted to indulge his humor
unopposed. The mother often strove with
him, and sought, by every means in her power,
to restore Mary to her old place in her fathers
heart. She did not know how desolate his
favorite child, nor how strongly nature pleaded
for her to be brought back again into his ac-
knowledged affections. But he could not for
give an act of disobedience like that. Mary
had chosen her own way. She had gone from
his side, and taken for her companion one
whom he utterly disliked and disapproved.-
The act was wrong, and she must suffer the
full penalty.
1t happened, two years or so from the time
that Mary left her fathers house, and while
her father still retained his unbending position
towards her. that the old man was in company
where some one spoke lavorably of moral fic-
tons The person who did 50 was a stranger
to the Deacon, and knew nothing of his family
history.
Moral ialsehood, you had better say was
uttered by the Deacon.
No. said the person to whom this was ad-
in which we see, as it were, the hid
den impulses of the heart imbodied in living
action: and thence are able more truly to un-
derstand and sympathize with our fellow-men.'
Sheer nonsense !. replied the Deacon
No wire-drawn apologies like that will do.
They cannot make lie the truth. 1t is living,
sir, lying and YOU can make nothing else out
of it.
What is lie was asked
Anything that is not true
And uttered with an intent to deceived
Certainly
Then, fictitious history, written with in
telligent skill, and regard to just principles,
is not a lie, for it is true picture of human
nature, and seeks not to deceive any one. The
end in view is to do good, and the means en-
ployed injure no one, nor violate single law
in the Decalogue.'
: Is not lying violation of the Decalogue
said the Deacon.
In what commandment is it forbidden1'
Thou shalt not bear false ,ritnesS against
thy neigh6or.'
Very WELL Now, | wish to illustrate
moral truth, and bring it directly home to the
minds of the people know that principles
only have power when they influence our ac-
tions; and that when seen in their ultimate
effects, their quality is more fully understood
But have no pertinent example to hold up to
the people; or, if have, the doing so, by
dragging forth persons, or families, and direct
ing toward them the public eve, would result
In far more harm than good. | therefore i'm
aglne series of acts, from causes in the MIND, ,
introducing actors, of course, and carrying
them on through variety of scenes, all legit-
lmately resulting from the principles that gov
ern them. Now, if, in doing this, am care
fui to show the difference between good and
evil, and as carefully refrain from presenting
wee IN any attractive form, but rather make
1t repulslve as it really is, am guilty of bear
ing false witness against my neighborl Am
guilty OF moral wrong,'
You are guilty of having given utterance
to what is not true; and you can't make any,
thing else out Of it, argue as you WILL replied
Deacon Prescott, dogmatically.
Pardon me for disagreeing with you.' said
the person. If have presented false views
of life; if have made my story unnatural and
improbable, and given it, at the same time, a
power to mislead the mind and deceive it in
regard to the legitimate tendency of either true
or false principles, then have been guilty Of
utterlng what is untrue; but not Otherwise
There is no attempt to deceive on my part.
NO one doubts that my history of life, or my