Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1866-02-17
MISCELLANY.
From the New York Observer.l
THE PURITAN OF 1863.
BY MRS. B. d. c. ROBBINS.

=
He had to cross two low spurs ON the
Green Mountains, and as he climbed to
the top of the second, the rich valley OF
the Ottar Greek lay spread out before
him. At any other time he would have
stopped to admire its gentle undula.
tons Its great flower garden of forest
trees, rich in every color and hue Its
silver threads winding their way to the
waters of the Champlain, and the glO-
rious autumn light which lay like a
golden mantle over them all. But this
afternoon he seemed oppressed by the
beauty which surrounded him. He
looked upon it with an eye misty from
tears. There was a dull, heavy weight
upon his heart-a- weight which even
the long, fervent prayers that he had
uttered so increasingly since noon had
failed to move. Between him and that
landscape, we might almost say, be-
tween him and the mercy seat, there
moved slight, tall boy, with laugh
ing blue eye, clustering brown hair, and
lips always ready with a merry pleas
ant word. To-day, there was Bennie,
nutting under the bare, brawny arms
OF the butternut tree throwing his line
into the little brooks, that came bah
bling down from the steep mountain
side driving his cows along the narrow
foot-path; standing with Blossom under
the bright maple, and shouting with
pride and JOY as she wreathed her
pretty face in the gay leaves.
''Oh, Bonnie Bonnie T. Mr.. Allen
hardly knew he was calling the name,
until it came back to him with such an
empty, mOcking sound. from the heart
less echo ''almost" Allan thought,
startling himself with the seeming i'm
piety of the words almost as if there
were no great. kind Father over us all. .
AS he came near Farmer Ovens
house, he saw his oxen yOked to the
pillow. He knew they had been there
since the telegraph came. Mr.. Owen
had read it in the field and gone to the
house and forgotten them, ana no one
had dared to put them mp. He was a
man fully capable of taking care of bis
own affairs under any circumstances,
never having been known before to
forget.
Mr.. Allen beckoned to an Irishman,
who was passing and asked him t. take
care of them. The man came with an
awed look upon his face. as if, even
there, he stood in the presence of
great sorrow, and without the least
noise Obeyed.
Mr.. Allen walked on slowly toward
the house. He had known Mr.. Owen
for many years, and he knew him well.
Indeed, there was peculiar bond of
sympathy between the two men. liz all
his large parish, there was not one upon
whom the minister relied as he did upon
this strong, sturdy farmer. Many and
many an hour had he walked 10y his
side when he was upturning the brown
earth, and had discoulsed with him on
topics which would have sounded harsh
and repulsive to common ears, hut
which were fraught with deep and vital
interest to them.
Mr.. Owen was direct defendant of
the Puritans, and every drop of blood
in his veins was tinged with as strong
and true ''blue. " rs if he himself had
landed in the May flower. He took,
naturally, to the sterner doctrines of
religion, while Mr.. Allen, versed in all
the modern lore, questioned and doubt
ed. The key stone of Mr. Owens the
Ology was the sovereignty of God
''ShaIl not the Judge of all the earth
do right?" This was the man upon
whom God had laid his hand So heav-
lily; and Mr.. Allen felt that if the trial
brought no murmer, no rebellion
against that mighty Sovereign, the
stern old faith was, indeed. the right
one In which to live and die. He
knew that one element In this war was
Puritan. Sons of the Roundheads filed
up tho ranks of the Northern army
They marched to battle TO strains of the
old tunes that had fingered in the nur-
sery and the sanctuary, from the day
that Cromwell and his soldiers chanted
them on Marston Moor. All down the
aisles of Time. came tramping to the
music, mailed men, bearing on their
shields the two words, Liberty and
Equality. They trembled on Mr.. Ow-
ems lips with his parting DIessIDss A.
his boy. Would he remember them,
and would they comfort and give HIM
strength H0lr?
Where there is a1Iliction in house,
the minister is at home. Mr.. Allen en-
tered without knocking, and made his
way to the large, Old-fashiOned kitchen
in which he was sure of finding the
family.
There, by table, with his arms fol-
ded and laid heavily upon it, sat Mr..
Owen. His wife was in a small rock
ing-chair by the fire, and Blossom,
young girl, sat between them.
Mr.. Owen rose to welcome him; so
did Blossom; but the wife did not no
tice him,-she sat still, rocking her
self to and fro, looking at the blazing
wood.
Mr.. Allen put hand in the brawny
one that was held out toward him, and
laid the other on Mr.. Ovens great
heaving breast my friend" he said,
chow is it with the DEGREES of God?'
''Just and true are all thy ways, thou
King of Saints. falterod the man.
There was something strange in his
voice,-a thin, womanly sound, SO I'M
like the deep, stentorian tones in which
he had always spoken before. Mr.. Al
len, when he heard it almost felt as if
it had dealt him blow.
''Thank Godl He has not then for
saken you, and from the depths of this
deep tronble you can still say, The
Maker of all doetb we'll >"
Eyes, yes, and for an instant there
glimmered from his dull eye spark of
the old controversial fire-''you don't
suppose have held on to that anchor
when the skies were cloudless, and the
little waves Just rocked my bark, to let
alone of it now--now, when the great