Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1850-08-19

Father In heaven. There was an express
sion ofmeekness, of calm and perfect faith,
and of subdued sorrow, upon the counte-
nances of both, which won my reverence,
and excited my curiosity to know more OF
them. s'~"5 - ~'.- '#a1tf E.=e. vi
They were poor. knew it by the
coarse and much-worn garments which
they always wore but could not con-
lecture why they avoided the society and
sympathy of all around them. They al
ways ySited for our pastors greeting when
he descended from the pulpit, and meekly
bowed TO all around, but farther than this
their intercourse with others extended not.
1t appeared to me that some heavy trial
which had knit their own hearts more
closely together, and endeared to them
their faith, and its religious observances,
had also rendered them unusually sensi-
tive to the careless remarks and curious
inquiries Of a country neighborhood.
One Sabbath our pastor preached upon
parental love. His text was that effect
ting calculating of David, ''Oh Absalom,
my son! my son!" He spoke ofthe. depth
and fervor of that affection which in a
parental heart will remain unchanged and
unabated through years OF sin, estrange.
ment and rebellion. He spoke of that
reckless insubordination which often sends
pang after pang through the parents-1
breast and of wicked deeds which some.
times bring their grey heads in sorrow to
the grave. | heard stiAed sobs, and look
ing up, saw the old man and woman at
the right hand of the pulpit had buried
their faces in their hands. They were
trembling with agitation, and saw that a
fount of deep and painful remembrances
had now been opened. They soon regain
ed their usual calmness, but though their
steps were more slow, and their counten-
ances more sorrowful that day, when after
the morning service had closed, they went
TO the grave in the corner of the curch-
yard. There was no stone to mark it, but
their feet had been wearing, for many q
Sabbath noon, the liltle path which led
to it. t. t . ID, .s.,..
| went that night to nay mother, and ask.
ed her if she could not tell me something
about 'the Grst bells.' She chid me for
that phrase by which was wont to desig-
nate ihem, but said that her knowledge of
their former life was very limited. Sew.
eral years before, she added, a man was
murdered in hot blood in distant town, by
person named John L.. The murderer
was tried and hung; and not long after,
this old man and woman came and hired
the little cottage upon Pine Hill. Their
names were the same that the murderer
had borne, and their looks Of sadness, and
retiring manners, had led to the conclusion
that they were his parents. No one knew
certainly that it was so-for they shrunk
from all inquiries, and never adverted to
the past; a gentle and sad looking girl,
who had accompanied them 10 their new
place Of abode, had pined away and died
within the first year Of their arrival. She
was their daughter, and was supposed to
have died Of broken heart, for her broth.
er who had been hung. She was buried
in the corner Of the church. yard, and every
pleasant Sabbath noon her aged parents
had mourned together over her lowly grave.
"And now, my daughter, J" said my moth
er, in conclusion, "respect their years.
their sorrows, and above all, the deep, fer
vent p iety which cheers and sustains them,
and which has been nurtured by agonies,
and watered by tears, such as l hope my
child will never know. .-.z- .
Ny mother drew me to her side, and
kissed me tendsrly; and | resolved that
never again would I in spirit of levity
call Mr.. and Mrs. L. 'the first bells.'