Daily national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1854, 1854-03-14

AmOn0Sf
tie marsh, bed Of wood-sorrel gave out its
delicate perfume. Here, monotropa--ah'
let us have the true rustic name, little Indian
nine--neeped out from its sheltered nook, while
round il the partridge-yine clothed its rosy
petals with down.
OR. everywhere, the whole season long that
wood sent up daily new thanksgiving to God,
In the spring, ere the chill of winter had yet
gone it adorned itself with festive garlands
As weeks went by cheered by pleasant sun
shine it put ON warmer hues, though in the
brook sides GOODNESS there still fingered gentle
tints. But when the sun had got high in the
heavens, and everything danced with Joyons-
4 ness, what could exceed the gorgeousness OF its
festive robe, Haunting with yellow lilies, and
\ orchis, and host Of gaudy blossoms
/ With Hannah, love wildwood life and
/ could lead the Arabs wandering ways better
1 than pent up town existence. We all love
the tasteful appliances Of luxury. Beautiful
pictures and harmonious effects minister to
this same love for the beautiful, and exert a
refining influence We love indoor winter
luxuries; but in the summer the glorious sum-
mer, give us the moss begrown rock, or velvet
turf, Tor the damask couch There is no ex-
cluslyeness in summer. The glad sunlight, the
pure air, the odor Of honeysucke, the murmur
Of bees, and every voice Of nature, come into
the door and through the windows OF the
meanest hut to gladden. rustic hearts.
A And do they gladden. them? Aye, more than
the son of fortune thinks Far away, amidst
4 hills and forest fast by that same whilom Dead
! Sea- stood once, and perehance stands now, an
humble cottage low aud rough boarded. The
! dwellers in that humble cot | never saw but
this moment invoke blessing upon them for
the sweet wayside vision they conjured up for
me- Whoever they were-poor in this worlds
goods, but rich in soul far away. alone, in that
forest opening--they dropped a little garden Of
flowers wrote upon the shore Of that wayside
pond q little poem The climbing red beans
and struggling sunhowers bespoke the untu-
tored taste; but oh there was beauty enough
to gladden. every heart Nature, in her wild
wood home, scatters flowers and, oh let crate.
full fragrance enter and the wild vine Irvine
round every cottage home
But Jonathan! All, Jonathan what shall
say of thee, to whom yellow primrose was
yellow primrose, and nothing more?" The
first vision had Of thee, thou vast sitting smo,
king, and cross-legged, in my grandfather's
| door and there, as most characteristic, thou
sittest smoking, and cross legged, still. What
epithets can give true conception Of thine in
describable features, and still more indescriba-
| Bile wardrobe as thou safest with thy neither
garments retreating from the blue hosen, and
thy bristly hair protruding from the half-rim-
less weather-worn hat? Unshaven and IN
shorn, with nose chin and cheeks, all awry,
see thee still, and in the intervals Of the eddy
ing smoke, hear thy broad "yawo and "walp
/ Yet, after the first repugnance of decently-
bred child had passed away for thy uncouth
features and incompatible dialect, felt that
/ thou vert, after all, a true Jonathan" honest,
independent, kind, at times, even to gentleness.
! Yes; even Jonathan, with his shambling gait,
and face for comic almanac, had, way down
beneath the accumulated dross of his untntored
SOUL vein of simple, childlike gentleness
When any painful mishap had befallen me,
the kind soul would lower his harsh voice to
speak words Of comfort, in cracked but gentle
tones When little lamb CHANGED TO stray
from the fold, who but Jonathan stayed out
half the chilly autumn night, till the poor
thing was found, and who but tho same rough
Jonathan nursed il, and took care of it. till it
was as well and as strong as the rest Jona-
than, with his barbaric tongue, never, like
Hannah, talked poetry, perchance never felt
it but there was simple beauty in many of
his homely actions that spoke volumes for the
kindly actuating motives Good Jonathan"
said Benny, in the wanderings Of his sick bed
I" Good Jonathan echoes my heart, after many
years
Only once, since his final exodus from my
grandfather's home, have met Jonathan
Twas in that menagerie of all conyeyances, a
public stage coach. Save holeless hat Jon
athan was Jonathan still, with antagonistic
neither garments, and a knowing cant to every
feature By his side sat, no Hannah, but q
broad featured, buxom woman, holding in her
arms n second Jonathan Twas no infant de-
spite the rainbow-tinted baby garb for out
from the yellow cap peeped an old Jonathan,
in the meager features and sharp gray eyes;
aye, and an embryo big heart too
So have given my faint need Of praise to
my grandfathers servants. And my grand
fathers servants were Of no whilom race. Gen.
tie and great hearts, beneath rough exteriors
are scattered broadcast over the land aAn
if We had died, ] should have wished I'd niver
known ye," said rough Irish waiting maid,
with a tear in her eye, to me, just recovering
from severe illness. There was world OF
true poetry in the meaning Of that single SEN
tence--of pathos in that tear. Her face was
broad and red, her form uncouth, every way
uninteresting; but ever after ! looked not on
the exterior, but feh the big heart beneath
The want Of generalzing power peculiar TO low
Irish, their habit Of living for the present only,
favors that flow Of animal spirits, and singular
felicity Of expression, which the past-profting,
ioreseeing Yankee, Of the same class, does not
pcssess Ramifcations Of the great poetic vein
which inspired the rustic bard run through
the heart Of the nation, and scatter over the
land wayside couplets.
Smile moi, gentle reader, at this my avowed
affection for those whom Providence has placed
in such humble walks ofIfe Means Of cultiva-
ton, kindly Udrefning social intercourse, have
made us more acceptable than they, and should
make us more lenient towards them. To many
Of Gods good gifts there is no exclusive patent;
and true sensIbility warmth OF heart, gentle
sympathies, aye, and delicate expression
thereof, daily pass unnoticed in humble life
We know there IL certain obIoquy attached
to even voluntary seryitade, and IL is hard, par
ticularly for woman, born in it's sphere TO
break from its thraldom. Yet ever and anon
she does it; and see, moving now in the cir