True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1856-02-20
ALL Is WELL.


The following exquisite gem is worth re-
printing and preserving. We doubt ifthe
whole range of English or any other litera-
ture can furnish anything more simply
beautiful-more purely eloquent:
"Twelve o'clock at night, and all's well. =
False prophets! Still and statue like, at
yonder window, stands the wife. The
clock has told the small hours, yet her face
is prest closely against the window panes,
striving in vain with straining eye to
pierce the darkness. She sees nothing,
she hears nothing, hut the beating of her
own heart. Now she takes her seat, opens
Bible, and seeks from it what comfort she
may, while tears blister the pages. Then
she clasps her hands, and her lips are trem-
ulous with mute supplication. Hist there
is all unsteady step in the hall; she knows
it many times and oft it has trod on her
very heart strings. She glides down to
meet the wanderer; he falls heavily against
her, and in maudln tones, pronounces a
name he had long since forgotten to honor.
Oh all enduring power Of woman's love
no reproacb, no upbraiding-the light arm
passed around that reeling figure once erect
in Gods own image. With tender words
Of entreaty, which he is powerless to resist
if he would, she leads him in. 1t is but
the repetition of a thousand such vgils 1t
is the performance of vow, with hero
ism and patient endurance too common and
every day to be chronicled by the register
ing angel above.
Calls we'll"
False prophet in yonder luxurious room
sits one whose curse it was to be fair as q
dream of Eden. Time was, when those
clear eyes looked lovingly into mothers
face, when kind, loving father laid q
trembling hand, with blessing, on that
sunny head; when brothers and sisters
voices blended with her own heart music
around the happy hearth. Oh! where are
they now! Are there none to say to the
repentng Magdalene, "neither do l con-
denim thee, go and sin no more!" Must the
gilded fetter continue to bind the soul that
loathes if. because man is less merciful than
God!
Calls WE'LL"
False prophet! there lies the dead orphan.
In all the length and breadth of the green
earth there was found no sheltering nest
where the lonely dove could fold it's wing
when the parent birds had flown. The
brooding wing was gone, that covered
it from the cold winds of neglect and un-
kindness. Love was It's life, and so-it
dropped.
Calls we'll"
False prophet! Sin walks the earth in
purple and fine linen; honest poverty with
tear bedewed face, hungers, and sllivers, and
thirsts, ,"while the publican stands afar off,
The widow pleads in vain to the ermine(
Judge for justice; and unpunished Of Heav'
en-, the human tiger crouches in his lair
and springs upon his helpless prey.
Calls WE'LL"
All yes, all is well, for He who "seetl
the end from the beginning" holds evenl.
the scale of Justice. -"Dives shall yet bel
of Lazarus" Every human tear is counted
They will yet sparkle as gems in the crow
of the patient enduring disciple! Wher
the clear broad light of eternity shine
upon life's crooked path, we shall see tn
snares and pitfalls from which our hedge q
thorns has fenced us in and, in our ful
grown faith, we shall exultingly say
"Father! not as Twill; but as Thou wilt.
FANNY FERN.