Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1860-03-21
JOHN GARLAND, THE EDITOR.
"Tis mans pride,
His highest, w~orthiest, noblest boast,
The privilege he prizes most,
To stand by helpless woman's side.
ATkn<aarr m -,

N pAi'hSkN ut prizes HOek,
To stand by helpless woman's side.
MAReARET OF ANJ0U.
eBless my soull" This very C~hristian-like
wish emanated from the lips of an elderly
looking gentleman, perhaps on the verge of
sixty, as past three o'clock on the same
night as the events occurred which we have
just related, he arose from a table covered
with innumerable newspapers and manu-
scripts, and examined his massive chronom-
eter. This was John Garland, the Editor of
the "Daily Stylus" one of those whole-souled
mem who are SO seldom found in the sin
@<<icken city. five were asked for a descrip-
<11n of Natures nobleman, we would point at
So1fe to John Garland for his honest heart
Fthough enveloped in a cloak of eccentricity-
was large enough to hold the universe, and
none came to him for aid who went away I'M
satisfied.
'Bless my soul" John Garland re-uttered
these words-and starting from his chair
rumbled over the papers a few moments, and
then throwing one upon the floor, allowed
himself to fall into a omment upon the in
trinsic worth and merit of that same journal.
Then tying a light scarf around his neck to
protect him against the night air, placing his
hat upon his head and seizing his trusty cane,
he e~xtingnished the light, looked carefully
around, and then turning the key in the lock,
started off up the street at a brisk walk.
Now John Garland was a MAN. When we
say man, we do not mean that he was only
composed ofmuscles, bones and tendons, with
their various seeretions and attributes, nor do
we n the word is sometimes used-a
powerful bully, but he was just such a hu-
man being as God intended him to be. If
his nature was sometimes sinful, he could not
help it, but if there was a humane, benevo-
lent creature upon the face of the earth, JOHN
Garland was that man. He would descend
into the lowest depths Of vice to rescue limo
cence before it was engulphed-and he would
not rest until he had seen it safe upon the
rocks of virtue, and then would not leave it
by itself until another protector came.
OH would we had a few more John Gar
lands in our midstl Then we might bid de-
fiance to the desert of vice, but at every nook
and corner there would well up waters of life
from some green and blooming oasis; we
might hurl down the bulwarks of ignorance,
and place upon their smoking fabrics institu-
tons of learning and virtue; we might plant
the banners guided by happiness and pros
perity over our nation, and it would float in
the breeze untouched by unworthy hands,
untainted by the breath of violence. Such
men as John Garland make this waste of life
; a beauteous Eden, where we may recline
IA Oy IiIC utS VI Tipping IOullLdLllS,
the trilling MARBLES of sweet birds, the fra
, GRANGE Of rich flowers, the vision of rare ex-
! otics, and we fall into pleasant slumbers-
; dreaming Of fairy happiness and blissful joy
until we wake from our lengthy sleep in the
= glorious immortality of the blest ones above.
To return. We left Alice wandering about.
knowing not where her footsteps were guild
ing her. Astounded and crazed by the sud
: den actions of her father, the poor girl
I thought Of nothing but her life of woe. Oh!
how she longed for some fountain of sympa.
thy, whose waters might wash away her tears
and heal her broken heart with its balmy in
fuence how she 1onged for some strong arm
I to protect her from the raging storm within
her own bosom; and-as she wandered-shs
struggled hard against the rising emotions
but beyond her power.
She had wandered from Southwark and now
stood gazing at the waters of the Della
9 ware. Sublime and silently they travelled
on their distant journey to the ocean, giving
n no consolation to the mourning spirit, bui
signing now and then their indistinct muir
d murs passed on in silent pity. Onward The
poor girl went. She wandered upon tn,
9 wharves amid the massy hulks and the fores
II of masts and yards. No signs of life wer,
le visible here even, and the girl stayed not
She turned from the wharyes, and amid tn,
= handsome structures of Chestnut Street, sh,
found herself. But her emotions welled to,
le high, and bursting into tears, she fell upon
y friendly doorstep and wept herself to sleep
Is Precious tears! When the grim angel o
z sorrow points to us as her victim, and whel
y troubles and trials mount at her command a
"a if to engulph us in utter desolation, the pre-
q cious gift of MISUNDERSTANDING to our aid
. Oh! how they wash away with resistless vo,
$, umn the cares and troubles of the heart-brc
q ken child of sorrow. How they caress tn
n soul itself and moisten the parched heart
ne strings with their living watersl Kind heay
Id en-, we thank thee for tears!
7. Old John Garland, having left his offc,
ne 1 started EDWARDS. His thoughts were numel
I'll Gus, and he was himself confused with thei
ne multiplicity. Sometimes invoking pain
ID without ceasing upon the heads of his delir
OF quent slbscribers-he would wonder VIII
Ill Jones had not sent the manuscript which wa
N due long before. He was wrathy at Jone:
er But if he had known that the poor author WI
IL lying with fevered brow and his emaciate
, hands could not grasp the pen, why Jch
Garland would be at once by his bedside
lu and commanding him to desist from all apo
y, -ogies-minister to his wants. But John GA
lands ~reyeries were cut short all at once b
w a very unusual sight.