Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-11-15
2g5A.
HEARTHsIDE MUSINGS.

INV anu OAA Z
ire ever ON the worlds stage, and they pass
AWAY with every breath and as thsxpass .
away new faces and new forms take thSr
places. How many have we seen thus pass
awayl The young, the old, and some.that
we loved, even as humanity loveth life. plain
as a sunbeam stands The record on Memories
leaf of Little Bess, the Miller's child Here
short life was one of continued pair.
have wondered a thousand times W. an
guish and afhiction were sent upon some. to
struggle with until life gave DER the conflict.
while others were blest with sunbeams bri,bt
as the heavens, and health and love ard oil
that is good and like the flowers but we
thank God we never felt like murmHfng ..
the mysteries of ProVidence-we were earIv
taught at the hearthside that the Father in .
Heaven doeth all things we'll" More vet
of Little Bess she was a dwarf and a helm
less cripple from birth. She could nAvar
play in the meadow as the other children
played, and as she grew older she one dav
asked how the flowers along the banks of the
meadow rill really looked. None could tell
her satisfactorily, so she was carried there to
see the flowers. When she saw them she
only said, ''hOT beautiful" And Little
Bess Spent her days sometimes in the mead
ow on the grassy bank and sometimes in the
house playing with her pet bird. She never
murmured at her Affections, but patiently
suffered what was sent upon her. All loved
the poor cripple, and many eyes wept when
IL IA GIL. Al - a. -.
while she struggled in the last conflict, she
sang of a home beyond the river and in her
languid eyes was the mild blue of heaven
Her part on the worlds stage was dark and
draped with clouds, but her patience and re-
signation taught US a goodly lesson. The
Miller's home was sorrowful for many a dav
after the little cripple was laid in the grave,
and a tear dims the eye of the old man yet
when he talks of his darling Bess.
MANS nature strives to look into the
great To Come, and longs to grasp the mys-
r tic web ffate and weave it at will. We NAV
profit by glancing back at the Past, and from
d the experience of the Past measure the Flu
e ture. The past has its temples, its tombs,
e its sorrowing hearts. its broken chalices of
II joy, its hopes torn and wretched, its bleeding
corses of ambition, its beggars and ermined
W lords. Mid the heaps Of buried years the
a Past claim these as It's treasures, and they
if will be there while Time lives to invite the
soul of man to deeds Of love and charity I'M
N til men shall no more live, and suffer and
ut die in the carthage, until Time itself shall
il breath the last notes of its death song among
is the sweet asphodels of the Eternal hills!
n, TWENTY years to come How changed
lg will be all the homes in the land /! Some
e, that are gay now will be draped in the deep
~ est gloom, while a few that know Of no Joy
tn now will be bright as the brightest. Those
OF that were our dearest friends and those that
were our deadly foes the shrines to which
m we beat out a pilgrim path ; the loved ones
we wandered with in pleasant places the
warm lips we kissed to the sweet music of
al love and poesy the gilded temptations that
were set in our path to lure and destroy the
deeds that heated to revenge the hands that
were nerved to strike; the songs that Gained
re the stormy spirit, when twenty years have
e. fed whore will they all be. How changed
Forgotten-estranged-lost-in the grave
ee Realities that surround us now will be al
Nv dreams then; unless painful memories, chain
ed to a restless conscience, have left only the
ks bitter lees in the cup we are forced to drain
" It will be well with US if the retrospect gives
no pain. Twill be as a rill of Joy gushing
out from the depths of the heart, if it recalls
from the graves it passes by, no injured one
ed no eye filled with tears, no rsbuking lips, n,
ee- sorrowing face. Peace will be the goodly
he inheritance of such, and the faint murmur Of
to the olden time By-gone will be as a gentle
ad melody sweeping across the ripping water s
ge THE season draws nigh when charitiei
&C will be demanded. The chill Of the white
led will bear hard upon thousands. There ar
nd many families reduced to want by unavoida
I'll bic circumstances, while the demon of th
M bowl has robbed hundreds of the comforts q
'ut life. All these have claims upon those VIII
TaS have an abundance of the blessings Of life
ng True charity falls as the dew and the sun
beams, cheering and blessing the recipien
IN thereof. We have read many expositions o
'ok charity, some eloquent and poetic-the fol
lowing sets forth, a correct principle:-
III A beggar, crippled, starved and blind,
Rehearsed his doleGul story
bile To half a score of auditors,
ave Who all looked vastly sorry.
nan
Some pitied much, some very much,
Some very much indeed
But not one cent did they bestow
ears To help the man of need.
,uld
: &C At length a Frenchman forward stepped,
= " In pity half-half choler,
IN And emptying out his purse,-"by gar,
avs l pity you tWO dollar !"
A good friend of ours holds forth tn
following sentiment: if you feel as if 70
didn't know where to go or what to do-som
lese how chaotic, useless andindefnite, 90 straigh
cor way and get married. For bringing a c
rate pher up to hundreds, and bringing one dow
ual- to a fixed fact, and making a man a /" kno
ner- something and a useful citizen, matrimon
the is a great institution.
Prosperity sometimes acts as an opiate
'e it lulls the marinerin into a sleep while the shi
auu of life is dashed on the deadly breakers. 4