Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1863-07-28

and valleys, its decay, its barbara and mode
ruins, its faded glory and dreamy mist of Sc
suous and luxurious religion resting on all ,
: see and feel-it is living dream. Onr for
steps wandered to Spain. Tired of the Leyar
= we dreamed our way to the land where our a
cestors, the Huguenot Moors, in the golden da
OF long ago, held high rout and reyel wher
the Neveda and Morena stretched their mis-
blue outlines into an ethereal heaven which seen
ed to meet the dreamy palaces and gorgeot
structures Of the luxurious conquerors from II
Orient; where Eastern splendors eliminated
that master work of art ard beauty which, res
ing on the banks of the Darro, has ever been tb
wonder and Mecca of travellers. Who ever Wis
tied Spain and failed to pay his heart tribute a
the grand and mysterious shrine of she Alham
bra The Mahommedan gains his idea of tn
Elysian Heaven from the arabesque and monu
4 mental beauties Of the East. Here he made a
earthly paradise, and amid its mystic scene
and magic endearments, its brilliant colors an,
god, and luxuriant flowers, my soul more thai
ever looked out over the broad expanse of eartl
and sea, and rested at home where Josie livet
and love is truthful.
Over tne Pyrenees, when seem TO the wear,
sense to have been mountains rolled there ii
sport by the waves of ocean, so equally unduIa
| Ting, so small their valleys, SO sharp and steer
their slopes. Yet here man lives, and dreams
away in ignorant bliss his happy life. Nature
| does much, and contented Incidence plays rather
than works. On, onward. something imnels me
! towards home. | care nothing for the Asiatie
eye of Andelusian maids, nor yet the glowing
beauty of seductive France. On toward home,
with restless anxiety which the traveller feels
! as he approaches his home--a vague, underlined
dread that something has entered his household
to destroy. Paris and all its allurements are
gained, and a few days Of necessary waiting. |
meet friend he urges me to turn back and
make the tour.
ssNay, nay, I am homeward bound,'' and
iaughingy reminded him
aWhose heart has ne 'er within him burned,
When toward his home his footsteps turned.
and Josie, you know, and all that.
ssOh! on yes. But you might as we'll, tLrn
back, for that will be your course SO soon as you
learn-I mean-get home.''
He would say no more. An undefned dread
was within me, and time seems to drag, oh !
how strangely, how slowly. Again am On the
green sea, and, ploughing through its yondrous-
" light pillows, wondering, and musing ard
dreaming, look at the stars and the gilded moon,
and the glittering waves. A few days, and the
tagging cars bring me home. Dear NO. there are
those sweet chimes pealing out dear welcome
to my own, my loved home. The home meeting
only the young and vigorous young man, full Of
life and spirits, buOyant with the fascination cf
travel, aad feeling superior because of its &C
complishment, can tell or know the exquisite
JOY and pleasure of return to home from for.
eign scenes.
s'What of Josie Aunt, how will find her 20
ssMy dear boy, she is wonderfully well. You
VIII scarcely know her she is so matronly and
changed. But do tell me of Italy and its lovely
scenes. 1t IS the sentimental part of Europe to
me; not that admire much sentiment in love-
but the classical sentiment which pervades its an
clent sensorious iuxuriousness, ,and the later mag
nlfcence of scenery is to me sentiment of en-
dearL.ent, from which have divested love.'
ssWhy, aunt, you once loved sentiment in
lOve.'
eyes. true but 1 have learned better lately,
not from my own experience, but from the sad
experience Of others, | have concluded love
should be as quiet and tame as Quaker garb |
and the heart should not rapturously and insane
ly hutter over sentiment Calculation takes the |
place of sentiment
s.Aunt this world would be barren waste
were there nothing but hard fact aud loTeIessl
GOODNESS in the heart Oh God, save the heart
that is barren Of sentiment. 1t is the most dep |
recating poverty Of soul that the Imagination can
conceive. ] mean not the maudlin' sentimental |
ism of boyish days which explodes on paper, in I
Lropes and figures, as nude of beauty as a sphynx,
and as crude in their mysteries; but the broad |
field of the heart, full of the richness
sf culture, and lovely with the wealth of adorn-
ment which makes its words musical and charm
ing. Those brilliant, polished gems of poetry
which sing in the heart like the soBgs,s so winsome
to US as N the days when we lay like children
listening to the devices of angels who are whis- |
pering sweet prophetic joys, and the echoes were
singing as soft as murmurs the ocean lute-like |
tones of singing fish. No eloquence of words
can paint the wild and mystic grandeur of the
SOUPS passion; mute is the tongue and still is
the voice."
Nhofy afrd sr Q To-
orgies of poets and drunken with
the Wine OF song, the soul scars away, beyond
the scenes OF earth, and in this dream land ofl
coiors aad music and enchantment the tremb-
ling hand sweeps the mystic lines of romance,
aud beauty, and poetical insanity, along the Sc
rial canvass of the mind and from its glorious
ethereal flight, the soul slowly deseends regret
fully to earth, still looking above, now all the
more spiritual for its charming existence awhile
amid the gided clouds, the crimson sunsets the
rose tins of Paradise, the verdant glory of Eden,
the gemmed light of the stars and the music of
the spheres.
The perfume of the rose and the delicate fra
GRANGE of the violet hang forever around the vase
where lies embalmed the loved and treasured
heart.
Whence come those flights of the soul From
love, whose language is sentiment and whose Off
spring is unutterable joy.''
'sMy dear Nourma! the poetical air of Italy
and the pantomlmlc teachings of its beautiful
Houri, have made you as enthusiastic devotee
as ever worshipped in the shrines and at the al
tars Of the Temple where Eleusinian mysteries
held magic sway, but tomorrow tell me to-mor
row, whether this dream of sentiment is not
vaga ry which you would fain dispel."
sWhy Aun,, what is it fear ?''
ssNever mind. You are man, and can bear
any disappointments like man,
She lett me puzzled. Evening came, and
walked the well known path to Josie's home.
Up the gravelled walk, between rows of low box
wood and beneath the shadows of those sweet
iindens, where she and had often walked and
talked, oh! of everything that loving people
could talk. On into the parlor. Josie's moth
er, with unbending old fashioned naughty style,
quietly shook my hand, and welcomed me back.
Then dashed at Josie, earnestly extending my
hand. She quietly presented hers, and hesita
tingly looking atime, led me to the old bow win
dow, where we had so often courted eyes, that's
the best word) and there sat a man not one
tenth so much the man, or so good looking as
myself, but what words do L hear her speak
ssNourma, let me introduce You to my hus-
band, Mr.. Frog
/ calmly walked from the house musing but
not sentimentalizng, for my love had been vast
ed on Frog, oh heaven pity ne, to think she
became Frog, and her children nothing but
Frogs. | really believe go5 hopping mad but
do you wonder that l am wanderer, a bache-
lor, and prefer or rather am necesstated to mend
nay own clothes. Why, have done SO in all
the countries OF earth, and thinking am doom
ed man, am easily content, hating nothing but
Frogs.
THE RAID ON ROCKY MOUNT. N. C.-The