Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1858-12-04
PLAYS AND PURITANS.

AND PURlIANS.
The following is taken from the spirited essays
Of the Rev. Charles Kingsley. The Philadelphia
in abiding to the paper from which the
extract is made, observes Certainly the Puri
tans we're right in condemning a stage licentious
beyond parallel, and certainly Mr.. Kingsley is
profound and true, as well as eloquent when
he thus defends the Puritans."
Thu POETRY OF THE PURITANs'-Was there no
poetry in the Puritans because they wrote no poet.
ry2 We do not mean now the %unwritten ~tradgedy
of the battle. psalm and the charge; but simple
Ijallyc poetry and quiet home dreams, love poetry
of the heart and the hearth. and the beauties of
human life. Take the most common
place of them. Was Zeal-for-Truth Thoresby, of
Thorsby Rise in Deeping Fen, because his father
had thought fit to give him an ugly and silly name
the less Of a noble lad Did his name prevent
him being six feet high? Were his sh )ulders the
less broad for it, his cheek the less rudy for it?
lie wore his faxen hair the same length that every
one now wears theirs, instead of letting it hang
half way to his waist in essence and curls but
was he the less a true Vikings son, bold hearted
as his sea.roving ancestors. who won the Danelagh
Dy CaDute 4 sue, anu eettltu tHBTe On l nOTesDy
Rise to grow wheat aad breed horses, generation
succeeding generation in the old moated grange ?
He carried a Bible in his jack boots but did that
prevent him. as Oliver rode past him with an ap.
proving smile on Naseby field, thinking himself n
very handsome fellow, with his mcustache and i'm.
perial, and bright red coat, and curiass well pol
isbed, in spite Of many a dint, as he safe bis faith,
er's great black horse as gracefully and firm,
ly as any long.locked and essenced cavalier in
front of him. or did it prevent him from thinking,
TOO, for a moment, with a tbrob of the heart, tina
sweet cousin Patience, lar far away at home,
could she but see him, might have the same opin,
ion of him az he had of himself? Was he the
worse of the thought? He was certainly not the
worse for checking it the next instant with manly
shame for letting such 'carnal vaniries' rise in his
heart while he was doing the Lords work in the
teeth Of death and hell nut was there no poe.r,
in him fve minutes after, as the long rainier
swung round his head redder and redder at every
sweep? We are befoo!ed by names, Call him
Crusader instead of Roundhead, and he seems al,
once (granting him only sincerity, which he had,
and that of a right awful kind) as complete n
knight Grant as ever watched and prayed ere put.
ting on his spurs, in fantastic Gothic chapel. be.
meath STORED windows richly dight.' Was there
no poetry in him, either, half an hour afterwards
as he lay bleeding across the corpse Of his gallant
horse. waiting Cor his turn with the surgeon. and
fumbled for his Bible in his boot, and he tried m
tune a psalm, and thought Of cousin Patience and
his father and his mother; and that they would hear
at last that he had played the man in Israel that
Iiau and roristad nptn blnn1 .,,;.:. "
and the man of sin
"AEd was there no poetry in him, too. a. he
came wearisd alorg Thoresb,dyke in The ouie,
autumn eve home to the house OF his orefatbers
and saw afar off the knot OF tall poplars rising off
the broad misty fiat, and the great ADELE tossing its
sheets of silver in the dying gusts. and knew that
they stood before his fathers door Wbo can tell
all the pretty child memories which fitted across
his brain at that sight and made him fOroet tbat
10 was a wounded cripple?
Fair Patience, too, though she was a Puritan.
vet did not her cheeks flush. her eye grow dim.
like any girlIs, as she saw aiar the red coat. like a
sliding spark OF FIRE, coming slowly along the
straight fen bank, and fled up stairs into her cbum
Der TO pray, half that il might be, half that il might
not be he Was there no happy storm of human
beAN1a
laughter when he entered the court yard gate p
Did not the old dog lick his Puritan hand as low
ngly as if it had been a Cavaliers Did not lads
and lasses run out shouting? Did not the old yeo
man father hug him. weep over him. hold him a,
arms length, and hug him again as heartily as
any other John Bull even though the next moment
he called all to kneel Town and thank Him who
had sent his boy home again. after bestowing on
him the grace to bind kings in chains and no,
bles with links of iron, and contend to death for
the faith delivered 10 the saints?
"And did not Zeal for Truth look about as wish.
fully for Patience as any other man would have
done, longing to see her, yet not daring to ask for
herr And when she came down at last, was she less
in bis eyes because she came, not Haunting