Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1855-01-17

1t was, indeed, a delightful cyening-such
as italy alone can boast. The few struggling
clouds. seemed as if rising out of an ocean of
gold, and as they ascended up along the deep
! blue skies, shook off thousands of bright, yell
| low fakes, which either followed after, or
melted away into the expanse beyond. Then,
afar TO the East, the horizon was bounded by
/ d dark, crcling line of hill, which foretold
| the advance Of the night, while the soft, mel
/ low light of the departing day still fingered
over the intervening wales and around the hill
! tops, as if Ioath to depart. Then away in the
distance, too, were the yellow waters Of the
Tiber, moving impcrceptibly along in the old,
broad, easy channel, lined on either side with
beautiful residences, and vineyards, and groves
Of stately palm.
Directly around them was a charming fresh
| ness, soothing, and invigorating. The day
had been excessively hot. The leaves and
flowers had been crispcd and wilted. But on
the withdrawal of the warm, scorchng rays Of
the sun, they had gradually unfolded and ex-
panded into their wonted proportions and
even now their was a gentle moisture upon
them, which, extracting their oderfferous
qualities perfumcd the air. Then the soft
breezes came stealing along, and the leaves
OF the vine, and the orange, and the lennon,
as also the flowers, with their maiden bushes
greeted them with their undulations and gen
tie cOurtcSies. And then the more distant OBJ
jects were becoming less distinct in their out
lines, soon to be lost altogether, in the shad-
ing which the mastery hand OF nature was
y D+f'a around tI,ar,
1t was, in truth, one of those rare evenings,
about which there is an indscrbable charm,
| and which lulls the soul into a strange, dreamy
sort of inspiration; and when, either rising
into the loftier regions of thought, it pictures
out golden visions, or, pleased with itself, it
would gladly linger yet longer on earth, how
ever faulty and stern in its realities.
On such an evening it was, that Yalens and
his daughter, seated in the little arbour, dis
coursed as we have related; and that, their
joys and sympathies, mingling together, flow
ed out in untold gratitude to the dear, blessed
Saviour.
Yalcn5 had hastily risen . his feet. It had
suddenly occu red to him that he had some
arrangements TO make for that nights meeting
in the Catacomls.
Tertltia, however, after moment, during
which she had been looking thoughtfuIly al
the grouni grasped him by the hand, and
| seemed unwilling that he should go.
Gone thing yet burdens my heart, father,''
said she, with a marked heSitancy, and
choaling, trembling voice.
cliffs in my power, shall most gladly re-
/ i
but baociagEy-with clear conscience said
Yalens, quickly rc-seating himself at her side.
''lIy daughter will not conceal her feelings
keep back no desire Of her heart,'' he con-
I tinucd, as Fertitia hung her head at his side,
and seemed struggling with her emotions.
..Well,'' at length, said she, '.Inust l hate
what 1 formerly iored-do love still, before l
can be a Christian %
s:Every thing sinful or unholy must be hated
| by all who take upon them the VOWS of our
faith, . said Yalens.
S:Do you mean sinful or unholy persons,
father = inquired Ycrtitia, with anxiety
s'No, my child-things, words, works, ac-
tio1s, thoughts, in a word, every thing ev:I.''
''IIow then is it with sinful persons ?-must
| hate them p said Fertitia, looking up in
her fathers's face, quite pale.
s.No, my daughter, cur faith requires US TO
love even our enemies, and to pray for them
that despitefully use and persecute u.s. said
Yalcns, with some emphasis.
Vertitia sat thoughtful for a few moments.
when, with vigorous effort to throw aside all
restraint arising from the natural delicacy of
her sey-Shc said
''Well, father, l must tell you, that my love
for Marcus is deep, pure, and | fear iastiag.-
| thought, perhaps, l could not be a Christian
with such sentiments--that's what / wished to
know" said Fcrtitia, sorrowfully, and, at the
same time, burrying her face in her hands, she
burst into tears.
'.You love his virtues and many excellent
qualities of heart but how with his Gods,
my daughter rs
go, know he's wrong,-I didn't think so
once,-I do now and l pray that the Spirit
would change his heart as L think it has chang
ed mine,'' said Yertitia, her face still buried
in her hands.
'.Yes, pray for him-pray for all men, eve
! rywhere,' said Valens, encouragngly.
He was at no loss to perceive the drift of
his daughters inquiries; and while he could
not but deeply lament the attachment she had
| formed, ne adored God for his goodness, and
| admired her conscientiousness.
He arose and walk ed sorrowfully away-yet
rejoicing.
To be continued.