Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1863-06-01

OF Natures Noblemenw They say, he is
the idol OF his companions. Did you hear
those burning words of eloquence, which fell
from his lips, when he responded to .tha.
toast? No wonderthey envy the happiness
of the bridei No Wonder the mothers heart
is proud to bestow the hand of her daughter
upon one 50 honored-upon one so honora-
BILE! But stop; thought I saw his hand
tremble when he took that glass of wine
might have been mistaken but I thought
cold shudder shook his frame. when he
was draining the goblet to the dregs. Letus
turn to the bride.
Can 1t be that this is the same little girl,
who few years ago sat upon our knee Yes
she is the same. But she is a woman now Is
On! what a werld of love and happiness
beams out from between those long. dark
eye-lashes! Hitherto, her life has been one
continual scene Of sunshine. Hopes bright
star now beams, with redoubled brllliancy.
upon her pathway. She is happy! Nav
her morning sun, which has risen SO beauti-
tul and bright, neer wane in clouds of gloom.
but only sink to rise on brighter. and hap
pier land
Our dream of happiness for the little child
has been partly realized.
~
What splendid scenei This saloon IS
magnlficently furnished! A hundred lets
OF gas burn and flash along the ceilings
Sofas, and tables, and gilded mirrors and
paintings of art tell that this is the above Of
wealth. Long rows of tables, filled with
busy occupants, stretch away and are lost
amid the glitter and the throng. But what
are those persons doing? What means this
grand displayS Ah Kind friends, this is a
90na65ang hell Here the lowness and base
ness OF the business are hidden by the mag
lc charm of wealth. Those who would scorn to
stoop to such an action in an ordinary saloon
mere take the gi1ded bait, unsuspectinely. /
Here the Old man with his silver locks and
care-Worn brow bends before the glittering
snrlne OF mammon, ready to stake his fortune,
his lie and soul upon the turn of wheel
yosff4, -aEssg ct cs.:1 He n
the last dollar which a fathers hand has ac-
cumulated in long life of toll, taken away.
Coca God, how many fond mothers, how
MANY heart broken wives will rise up in the
judgement day fearful witnesses against
this dark door of damnation
There bending over that table are two
men, apparently deeply engaged. Let us
approach nearer. One is an old miserly look
ing wretch, scantily arrayed,; and his long,
white'locks are hanging in tangled masses
upon his shoulders Look, how those keen,
black eyes of his glisten with delight, as be
rakes the clanking gold to his side! What
low unearthly chuckle escapes his lips,
when he exultingly sees despair depicted up
on the countenance of his antagonist! My
God is he man or demon2 Was this
bright green earth of Thine made for the
home Of such beings-such devils as this?
The broad, high forehead, the findly chis-
eled couatenance, and the proud but despair
ing look of the other tell that he would not
once have stopped to this. His pale brow
is furrowed, and his eyes is sunken; but
not with the weight of years, for only lit
tie while ago, we saw him a bridegroom by
the side of queenly bride. And has he
this soon forgot her love? Has he so ear
ly ceased to love the happy freside of his
home and the sweet comparionship of his
, Blanch? Even sol
: The game proceeds. His last dollar is up
: on the table. He looses. The miser wins
e A few more games and his home and wealth
n are transferred to the greedy clasp of tn
= withered old man. He leans back in hi
Il chair and gazes at the robber of his hom
with strange, wild gaze. But he sees hin
" not. His eye is glazed. 1t is the look {
V despair He starts up. He draws heav
: gold locket from his bosom. He hesitate:
b Replaces it; and withdraws it. Then wit
,e trembling hand he opens the lid. 1t
le the little child we used to love-the beauti
h full girl-the happy bridel faint.gleam
at hope lights his eyes. He lays it down, and IL
u miser covers it with notes.
it The game is finished. The locket
:" gone! His arms hang loosely by his sid
ne His head rests upon his heaying BOSOM.
or Poor mani
Y.
The snow fakes are falling and crossi