The New Orleans bulletin. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1874-1876, 1875-12-19
LETTER FROM CASTLE RACKRENT.

LETTER FROM CASTLE RAChkENI.
Friend B4netin-I always, whom l write
letter, like to get myself en- rapport, as they
say in spiritual circles, with the party l ad-
dress. So prepare yourself for mixed letter
"a little spiseful Inn eminently practical l
have improved on my castle since last wrote
l have fitted up q room which l call the
"Growlery" l have been shut up in the
"Growlery" for two days reading the Presi-
dents message. l wonder that I ever came
out! For some days past have wandered
about like that famous old bore Of poetic
memory, 1.-THE Ancient Mariner" but with
ill success; nobody had time to hear me.
But you see I had made up my mind that
somebody should hear me. Illfated, luckless
BULLETIN, the doom has fallen on you. In
writing to you have great advantage: You
can't answer back. That makes me compla-
cent, my logic conclusive.
What l write to you l write in kindly
spirit; but Of course l take my gloves off
when ! write. I shall introduce my theme
with little story. Once upon time there
was gay little village ON a certain hillside
little village that. half concealed and half
revealed, len. as much beauty as it Dor
royed-and in this little village there was
much excitement: it was an epoch IN its
sunny life If you have ever lived in vii
laee, you know how great small events
can be.
Il was Saturday evening, and on Sunday
morning the new pastor was to appear before
the village congregation, in the village
church He came from great city afar
of, and this little village only knew city life
by rumor The pastor was to arrive on
Saturday night, and remain ct the house OF
Deacon-neyer mind, we'll say the Deacon.
Being great Christian, the Deacon had
great house; what more natural2 All day
there had b5en stir in his house; the best
of everything was put forth to receive the min
ister The shades of evening fell softly; the
insects sang themselves to sleep. The
handsome house where the new pastor was to
stay WAS aclow with cheerful freight and
bmplicht, ard still he had not arrived. The
tea-tab.e shone with glass and silver. as the
deacon went to the door and looked earnestly
down the white-tinted, winding road on the
hillside. man was coming, but he proved
to be only dusty, weary, travel-stained man
of ordinary appearance. He apologized for
asking the favor, "but could be remain for
the night" The deacon felt "no," but Chris
ian laws com PEELED eyes" With curt cour-
tesy he permitted the stranger to remain but
never invited him. The dew fell, the shadows
6eepened, no pastor. "My dear, let US have
tea, he must have been detained. ="
The stranger was man with
male, sensitive face, and fine
voice; lie felt that he was not an invited guest
and seemed timid. In the course of CONVEX
sation ct tie tabae, the stranger mentioned
"the eleven commandments. Bobbie, >
said the deason whose irritable nature, coup
led with his disappointment. had lain in am
bush, and now pounced upon the stranger,
show many commandments are there ?"
"Ten," says orthodox, righteous Bobbie, and
assuming his Sunday school voice; and fixing
hiseyes firmly upon the nice, hot, batter cakes,
he recited the decalogue. The stranger
looked at this big, little Christian, with q
thoughtful smile. and accepted the correction
The meal ever, the stranger plead fatigue,
and was permitted to retire.
AS the suns first rays kissed the tall, dark
tree-tops, the stranger left the deacon's house,
leaving note of gentle courtesy and thanks
for his hospitality. Church time came; the
village church bell swang to and fro, and
rang out the Sabbath salutation in the cool,
clear air. The deacon marshaled his little
Christians, and they went to church where
we are taught, "Be ye given unto hospitali-
ty one to another and not grudgingiy. What
WIS the deacon's horror to see the stranger,
whom he now regarded as a lunatic, ascend
TO the pulpit; and imagine his additional
horror SIS he softly turned the leaves of his
maruscrip. and read the text: "a new COM
mandmen. give unto yor. that ye love one
another" pause The eleventh command
ment." The deacon was truly apoplectic i'll
apologies after the sermon, but the new pas
TOR seid "there was no need"
And this little story brings me TO rosy, cosy,
comfortable Christianity. Rosy Christianity!
that. with its beautiful b,ue silk and its real
lace, reads in the morning paper of how the
woman few blocks of, took her life and the