Indiana State sentinel. (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1861-1865, 1861-03-27

such pulpeting and petitioning, such maundering
and memorializing, such name-calling and dirt
throwing, such a shrill wind of parliamentary
questioning and feeble replying-where 81 dare
not wait on Il would"-that the poor fellow
stood aghast, staring wildly around.
"Have provoked all this" said he, with his
hands to his afffighted ears, ''by what was meant
to be an innocent request, plainly arising out OF
my familiar experience, and the common knOwl-
edge of all men who choose to open their eyesI
/ don't understand, and j am not understood
What is to come of such thngsl
He was bending over his work, often asking
himself the question, when the news began to
spread that pestilence had appeared among the
laborers, and was staying them by thousands.
Going forth to look about him, he soon found
this to be true. The dying and the dead were
mingled in the close and tainted houses among
which his life was passed. New poison dis
titled into the always murky, always sickening
air. The robust and the weak, old age and in
fancy the father and the mother, all we're stricken
down alike.
What means of fight had he? He remained
where he was and saw those who were dearest to
him die And a kind preacher came to him, and
would have said some prayers to soften his heart
in his gloom, but he replied:
ooh, what avais it, missionary, to come to me,
man condemned to residence in this fetd place,
every etilrC II unu hAAttN
every minute of my numbered days is new mire
added to the heap under which | lie oppressedr
But first give me my first glimpse of Heaven,
through "A little of its light and air; give me pure
water; help me to be clean, Tighten this heavy at
mOsphere and heavy life, in which our spirits sink.
and we become the Indifferent and callous crea-
lures you too often Us; gently and kindly take
the bodies of those who die among us, out of the
small rJOm where we grow to be so familiar with
II. L
US; and Teacher, then | will hear-nORe know
better than you, how willingly-of Him whose
thoughts were so much with the poor, and who
had compassion for all human sOrrowP
He was at his work again, solitary and sad,
when the Master came and stood near to him,
dressed 10 black. He also had suffered heavily.
dis young wife, his beautiful and good young
wife, was dead; so. too, his only child
Master It's hard, too hard, to bear-I know
it-but be comforted. / would give you COM
fort if could"
The master thanked him from his heart, but
said he: ooh, you laboring menl The calamity
began among you. If you had but lived more
healthy and decently, | should not be the
widowed and bereft mourncr that am this day -
Master returned the other, shaking his head,
II have begun to understand little that most
calamities will come from us as this one did and
that some will stop at our poor doors, until we are
with that great squabbling family yonder, to do
the things that are right. We can not live
hsalthily and decently, unless they who under
stand how to manage us provide the means. We
can not be instructed, unless they will teach us;
we can not be nationally amused, unless they will
amuse us, we can not but have some false gods
of our own, while they set up so many of theirs
in all the public places. The evil consequence
of imperfect instruction. the evil consequences OF
perniciOus neglect the evil consequences of un-
natural restraint and the denial of humanizing
enjoyments, will all come from US, and none OF
them will stop with us. They will spread far and
wide. They always do, they always have done
just like the pestience. Understand so much
think, at last"
But the Master said again: % o you laboring
men how seldom do we ever hear of you, ex-
cept in connection with some trouble !"
Master" he replied, 81 am nobody, and
little likely to be heard Of, (nor yet much wanted
to be heard of perhaps) except when there is
some trouble. But it never begins with me, and
it can never end with me. As sure as death, it
comes down to me, and it goes up from me-
There was so much reason in what he said,
that the Bigwig family, getting wind of it, and
being horribly frightened by the late desolation,
resolved to unite with him, to do the things that
were right-at all events so far as the said things
were associated with the direct prevention, hu-
manly speaking, of another pestilence. But as
their fear wore off, which it soon began to do,
they resumed their falling out among themselves,
and did nothing. Consequently the scourge ap-
peared again, low down before, and spread
avengingly upward as before, and carried off vast
numbers of the brawlers. But not a man among
them ever admitted if in the least degree he ever
perceived, that he had anything to do with it.
So Nobody lived and died in the old, old, old
way; and this, in the main, is the whole of No
body's story.
"Had he no name?" you ask. Perhaps il was
Legion. 1t matters little what his name was. Let
us call him Legion.
If you were ever in the Belgian villages near
the field of Waterloo. you will have seen in some
quiet little church, monument erected by faith
ful companions in arms to the memory of Col. A,
Major B., Captains c. d. and E., Lieutenants F
and c., Ensigns H. 1. and j., seven non-commis
stoned officers, and one hundred and thirty rank
and file, who fell in the discharge of their duty on
the memorable day The story of Nobody is the
story of the rank and file of the earth. They bear
their share of the battle; they have their part in
the victory; they fall; they leave name but in
the mass. The march of the proudest of us lead:
to the dusty way by which they 60. Oh let II:
think of them this year at the Christmas fire, anC
not forget them when it is burnt out.