The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1852-01-08

temples and harps, for the sunset lights of our
native valleys-the wood-paths, whose moss
| carpets are woven with violets and wind flow
ers-the songs of birds, the low of cattle, the
hum Of bees in the pple-blossom-the sweet,
familiar voices of human life and Nature In
| the place Of strange splendors, and unknown
| music should we not welcome rather whatever
reminded us of the common sights and sounds
of our old home !"
"You touch a sad chord, Doctor" said |.
| Would that we could feel assured of the eterni-
| ty of all we love-"
"And have | not an assurance of it at this
very moment 2" returned the Doctor
"My outward ear fails me, yet seem to-
hear as formerly the sound of the wind in the
pines. close my eyes, and the picture of my
| home is still before me ! see the green hill
| slope and meadows-the white shaft of the vii
lage steeple springing up from the midst of
naples and elms-the river all afre with sun
shine-the broad, dark belt of woodland, and
away beyond, all the blue level of the ocean
And now, by single effort of will, can call
beforeshe winter picture of the same scene
1t is morning as now, but how different All
night has the white meteor fallen in broad
fake or minutest crystal the sport and play
IS - IT, ynsss, Sse Is i~isaS
l},l r>PeA 81 wiIo Wy, -, ~ r ,
leSy sSss1aA .,.1s, wasissts8 49,, :. lisp,
barn and pig-stye, fshing-smacks frozen up at
the wharf, ribbed monsters Of dsmantled hulks
scattered along the riverside, all lie transfg-
ured in the white glory and sunshine. The
eye, wherever it turns aches with the cold
brilliance, unreleved save where the blue
smoke of morning fires curl lazily up from the
Parian roofs, or where the main channel of the
river, as yet unfrozen, shows its long winding
line of dark water gistening like a snake in
the sun. Thus you perceive that the spirit
sees and hears without the aid of bodily Or
gans; and why may it not be 80 hereafter
Grant but memory to us, and We can lose
nothing by death The scenes now passing be-
fore us will live in eternal reproduction created
anew at will. We assuredly shall not love
| Heaven the less, that it is separated by no i'm
passable gulf from this fair and goodly earth,
and that the pleasant pictures of time lnger
like sunset clouds along the horizon of eternity
When ! was younger, | used to be greatly
troubled by the insecure tenure by which my
senses held the beauty and harmony of the out
ward world When looked at the moonlight
on the water, or the cloud shadows on the
hills or the sunset sky, with the tall, black
tree-boles and waving foliage relieved against
it; or when heard a mellow gush of music
from the brown breasted ffe-bird in the sum.
mer woods, or the merry quaver of the bobo-
link in the cortland, the thought of an eter
nal loss of these familiar sights and sounds
would sometimes thrill through me with SHARP
and bitter pain. | have reason to thank Goo
that this fear no longer troubles me- Nothing
that is really valuable and necessary for us
can ever be lost. The present will live here
after; memory will bridge over the gulf be-
tween the two worlds, for only on the condition
of their intimate union can we preserve ouI
identity and personal consciousness Blot out
the memory of this world, and what would
Heaven or He'll be to US? Nothing whatever
Death would be simple humiliation of our act
ual selves, and the substitution therefor of a
new creation, in which We should have no more
interest than in an inhabitant of Jupiter or
the fixed stars.
| The Elder, who had listened silently thus
far, not without an occasional and apparently
involuntary manifestation of dissent here in
terposed.
Pardon me, my dear friend, !" said he, "but
| must needs say that look upon speculations
of this kind, however ingenious or plausible,
as improbable, and well nigh presumptuous
For myself, only know that am weak, sin
full man, accountable to and cared for by
lust and merciful God What he has in re-
serve for me hereafter, know not nor have
any warrant to pry into His secrets / do not
lmpw what it is to pass from one life to another;
but humbly hope that when | am sinking in
the dark waters, may hear His voice of com
passion and encouragement-"It is be not
afraid !"
amen" said the Skipper, solemnly.
~ dare say the Parson is right in the MAN,"
said the Doctor "Poor creatures, at the best,
it is safer for us to trust like children, in the
goodness of our Heavenly Father than to specu-
late too curiously in respect to the things Of
future life; and, notwithstanding all | have
said, quite agree with good old Bishop Hall {:
lit is enough for me to rest in the hope that !
shall one day see them; in the mean time, let me
be learnedly ignorant and incuriously devout,
silently blessing the power and wisdom of my
Infinite Creator, who knows how to honor him.
self by all these unrevealed and glorious subor-
dinations'n
Mr.. GIDDISGs made speech TO the fifteenth
Anti-Slavery Fair of Pennsylvania on Thurs
day evening, the 18th ult. He was introduced
to the audience by Rev. William H. Fnrness,
in happy address. Mr.. G. in the course Of
his speech alluded to the fact that during the
whole fourteen years he had been a member
of Congress he had never heard the Chaplain
of the House offer prayer for the victims Of
oppression confined in the prisons of the Dis
trict of Columbia. He said
Claiming to be ministers of Him who came
to proclaim liberty to the captivcs and the open
ing OF the prison TO them that were bound, they
utterly excluded the slaves from the circle of
their sympathies. On one occasion, several
years ago, just after he had finished an anti
slavery speech in the House. he was told that
somebody wished TO zee him in the recess On
passing out, the Chaplain Mr.. Tustn intro
duced him TO Rev. DR.. Wyic, of Scotland,
delegate to this country from the Free Church.
The Doctor thereupon complimented him for