The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1868-09-05

Ahoeeu ~ssy " s&"' NY - 50
| His deep voice grows sweeter and lover,
AZ baby.ilps press bis brown cheek;
He is happy. he ssks for no more;
He 10 loved what more need he seekt
His boys and his xirls are % merry,
The tabs 90 full and % white,
And all is 90 happy and cheery,
He envies no ruler his might
OF ye, With your city notions,
There's somethng more precious and sweet
Thar graceful and elegant motions
In walking the close, dusty street.
And farmer John. green a. you can hiu,
30 awkward and 90 cosrsely chad.
Has had this great fortune befsn hIm,
And his whole life b j,yeui and glad
- -
HELEN EYRE.
From lights and shadows Of Scottish Life" BY Prof
wilson.
(coSr1NUED
As Helen Eyre grew out Of her sweet girl
hood into the ripening beauty OF her virgin
prime, this feeling regarding her becam,
somewhat stronger. For now there was th.
jealousy-the envy-an6 the spite OF littl,
minds, painfully consc Gus Of th I inferior.
ty, and impa tient Of total eclipse. They had
the tone Of tAe worlds most worldly hear
on their SIDE and it was easy, pleasant
safe, and satisfactory, to hang cloud over
her by one single word that could not be
gainsayed, when it was felt that in itself the
flower was fragrant aud most beautiful.
Campbell has in the simple words Of genius,
spoken Of the "magic Of q name"-so like
wise is there blight in q name a blight
which may not fall on its object, but which
can wither up the best feelings Of our nature
which the sight of that object vas formed to
cherish and expand. Beln by degrees in
structed her heart in this knowledge, which
from nature alone she never ould have had
her guardian had lold the story Of her birth;
she read ID books of persons situated as she
was; and although sometimes her heart re-
belled at what could not but appei to her
the most impious injustice, and although
even sometimes she felt a sort of angry and
obstinate pride which she knew was wror I;
yet such was the felicity of her nature, tlat
the knowledge wrought no disturbance in
her character ane she was now IN her un-
undisputed beauty, her universally ack-
nowledged accomplishments, and her con
scious innocence, humble but happy. sedate
but not depressed, not too ready either with
her smiles or tears, but prodigal Of both when
nature knocked at her heart, and asked adj
mission there for grief or for joy.
Helen Eyre was no object Of pity !; for her
bark had been drawn up into quiet haven,
and moored to a green shore oveTspread with
flowers. Yet still she was an orphan, and
the world wore a different aspect TO her eyes
from that which 1t presented 10 other young
persons, with troops OF friends and relations,
boc.j 10 them by hereditary connections, or
BY the ties Of blood. They had daily pre-
sented 10 them food for eli the atfvclions of
tue heart their feelings had not either to
sleep OF else to be self-stirred, for a Thousand
pleasant occurrences were constantly touch
Ing them with almost unconscious delight.
Life 70 them offered q succession OF pleasures
ready made to their hands, and they had but
to bring hearts capable of enjoyment Lit
lle demsnd is made on such tnose, so long
As health continues, and their v 0rldly a.
iAIrs are prosperous. to look often or deeply,
or steadily into their own souls. But with
this orphan the case was very different. She
was often left alone to commune with her
own heart; and unless thoughts and feelings
and fancies rose up there, sne must have
been desolate. Her friends were often not
living beings Vt The same age, and with the
same pursuits as herself, for OF them she
came At last to have but tew, but tpey were
still, calm, silent, pure, aud holy thoughts
that passed IN trains before her, when the
orphan was sitting 10 her solitude, with none
near to cheer her, or to disturb. When she
read in the history Of real life, or 10 the tic-
tons Of poetry, of characters who acted tneir
parts well, and walked in the hgnt OF nature
beautiful and blest, or tried and triumphant
IN the fires OF sffiiction, these sue made the
friends Of her heart, and With these she
would hold silent communion al the day
long. No eyes seemeI sverted from her, nc
faces frowned, nor did any harsh voices rise
up among the dead. All the good over whom
the grave had closed we're: felt TO be her
friends into that purified world no unkind
feeling could iatrude; and the orphan fell
no bar to intervene between her beating
heart, and those who were the objects of heI
profound and devout affection. From ths
sights, or the tsunts, or the coldness OF Inv
ing scqusintances, Helen Eyre could always
turn to these sacred intmscies aud friend
ships, unbroken and unimpaired she could
bring tender light from tine world Of mem
Dry to soften down the ruggedness Or the rs
asperitles Of present existence and thu
whIie she was in one sense IN orphan, al
most alone in life, In another she was the
child Of family, noble, rich, powerful, grea
ard good.
OF such q happy nature, and trained b!
4, he wisdom Of her youthful Innocence TO sucl
habi Of emotion and thought, Helen Eyr
felt-but not keenly-the gradual falling ol
and decay Of almost ali Ger sehooi-trisnd
ships. Some of her companions left tina
part Of the country altogether, and she hear
Of them no more some went home in ia
nelShhorhood, and in . short time recog
nfxed her, when they chanced 70 meet, by
civil smile, question, curtesy, or shake o
the hand, and no rhors some seemed 70 for
get her altogether, or 70 be afraid TO remem
Der her; and some treated her with q con