Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-05-02


change old father Time had wrought in that c
short period Now the humble were exal- S
ted, and the naughty brought low Here 5
met the children of Arthur Bruce and $
Thomas Tyndal
Young Jacob Tyndal was now known as $
the Drunkards son. his father being |
miserable sot Edwin Bruce was wealthy, (
but not proud and naughty, he was 5eloped
and respected-not feared by his school
mates He had been taught by his pa
rents, to estimate nr4n by his own real
merits and true worth, and not for that of I
another I,
Where are they now-2G What has be-
come of the two families 2 enquired as
the old man made a short pause Where
are they?' reiterated he, shade Of deeper
seriousness passing over his countenance.
How solemn the enquiry yet how heavi-
ly-how sadly it falls upon the human ear !
A few years hence and where will be the
present generation The friends of our.
childhood the companions Of our youth
those gay, happy spirits with whom it
seems but yesterday we sported Where
are they! Oh, Time, how swift thy race
how uncertain, Oh Death, thy call F!
The old Distiller has long since passed
to his rest Tue shades of poverty encom-
passed him about as he went down into the
dark valley and the shadow Of death. -
Thomas Tyndal followed in few years.
He was not stricken down by age-but the
fountains of his heart were dried up by his
inordinate love for the fiery beverage by
the unceasing use of which, be was early
numbered among the innumerable millions
of unhappy victims Of the still that had
gone before.
David Bruce, too, sleeps the long sleep
of death He died at good old age hav-
ing kept his vow faithfully to the end. He
was regretted and mourned by all.
Arthur and Helen, enjoying every COM
fort and surrounded by au interesting fam
lily, still reside in Arkansas. They intend
shortly to return and spend their declining
years among the mountains of their native
state
But what has become of Edwin Bruce,
and the young Jacob Tyndal p said |, ca
ger to know more of the families, in whose
history now took deep and lively inter
est.
Jacob TyndaP he replied is likely to
lead an honorable and exemplary life-he
struggled manfully and with stout heart
against the manifold difficulties which were
thrown in his way-and is now the owner
of thrifty farm on the banks of the French
Broad, May prosperity attend him!
Edwin Bruce has just returned from th'
Theological Seminary in -, and viii
preach his first sermon on next Sabbath il
the Presbyterian Church, at Valley Grove
near by. He is young and promising, AM
bids fair to live life of great usefulness.
How strange. my friend, is man! Ono
, was young and now am old, but hav
, never yet been able to unravel the myster
, of his nature
How often do we see some poor, delude
} mortal toiling and struggling through lift
living in abject want-pinchcd by avaric'
D and striving by every means, just and III
/ just, that he may acquire and amass wealt
y for his descendants that they might live
: ease and afluence, and enjoy luzuries, sue
: as his most aspiring and ambitious dream
d could never reach, and his brightest touch'
n of glowing fancy could never paint
1t Then no sooner is his body laid beneat
C the 'clods Of the valley and his tolls {
W earth ended. than those dear objects of h
d care forget his trials, and scatter with pr
a fuse hand the fruits of Iife's abor-lise
d orief life of dleness, sumptuouSness, inten
s perance and debauchery- then sir
back prematureIy into the vile dust fro
lie whence they sprung unwept, unhonored ar
lc unsung,' leaving no other legacy for tho
r who follow, than the wisdom 10 be gaint
from the ruinous example of their i'll spe
of lives
it, How like the heaving biIlows of storr
as tossed ocean, are the generations of earll
I'd those waves which one moment roll highe
of and proudest among their fellows, are in Il
nd next broken, scattered and buried. lc
se down in the bosom of the great deep J.
be While the good Quaker spoke his ag
10 countenance was lighted up by the amin
ar ton of his heart and bis Q. beamed benea
the latent blaze Of wisdom and experien'
N, { 1t is indeed true, said |, when he h
ire ceased speaking however sad the comte,
en- plation, that the nature of man is 'passi
strange 1t is but too often the case
ye, may be from a misguided conception
Gu uldH proper SldLlOu, ClldG WIS llIllletlldIo
ed cendants Of the aristocra;ic, naughty a
rts overbearng Of one generation. become
he paupers, outcasts and down-trodden of
lal nextp
ity Too true, my friend, but such are
cir changes and uncertainties of life Said
ted but the night is far spent. We then kl
an together in the pale light Of the moon. /;
nd after he had offered up prayer, we reti
ur- to rest.
tly When [ awoke next morning the
lett was up-spreading his brilliant beams
Da- once wide over the face Of smiling nat,
old soon went forth in the open air TO er
the COOL inyigorating mountain breezes
OF breath the sweet odors, waited from the
ere grant wales and sunny hills around HI,
he'd was already in her garden among the
Its flowers of her care--they seemed TO rel
tore in her presence-their petals still wet
lted the dews Of the night, as if they had v
ood at her long absence-now looked up smil
ly through their tears. joined her
to- attention being attracted by the beautiful
re- rangement Of her garden and the grea
rm, riety of plants it contained but [ must
heir fess, however lovely surrounding oh
his might have appeared, that she was be
llrst the most charming object to be seen.
was Queen among the roses She
wa great pleasure in showing her garden, W