davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
The AtOnemcnt.

" Be ready always To give an answer to every
man that asketh you n reason Of the hope that +
| in You, with meeltness and fear. II Peter 3: 10
was partaker of the gospel many years
before | was able to give reason for the
hope that was within me but think am
prepared not only TO give a reason, but to
give it in meekness and sincerity. Es-
pecialy ought we to be able to speak about
the atonement.
The first glimpse that we get of the atone.
ment is there in the third chapter of Gene
sis, where it says that the seed of the woman
shall crush the serpent's head. Well, you
know there couldn't be any bruising with
out blood But the first actual shedding
of blood was there in the twenty-frst verse,
where We read that Adam and Eve were
provided with coats Of skins OF course.
animals had to be killed. and that was the
beginning of the shedding of the blood of
the innocent for the guilty. Even as Adam
and Eve went out of Paradise they must
have said to themselves that God loved them
very dearly, although he was Furnishing them
for their sins.
Then we find that Abel's sacrifice was
more esteemed by God than the sacrifice of
his brother Cain. Away back in the morn
ing of creation God had marked out way
of atonement for sin, and because Abel fol
lowed that way God loved him. Cain prob.
ably said to himself that he did not like the
shedding of blood. The offering of golden
grain and luscious fruits seemed TO him a
more reasonable sacrifice. These two bows
were the same. with this difference. Every
man that has religion of his own o.dav is
follower of Cain, and, like him, discards
the atonement by blood. But Abel reached
hon l.xrf a., -, ,I,,N
was the first mortal that ever entered heaven,
there must have been solo sung there once.
He was the first TO sing the song of demp-
ton, which has since sweled into such a
tremulous chorus.
just as we find the first dispensatiou COM
menced with blood so we find the second
dispensaton commenced in like manner.
The first thing Noah did after he came out
of the ark was TO offer up sacrifices of clean
animals aud put blood between him and
God. Abraham, the friend of God, walked
in the self.same way, and on Mount Moriah
was willing to offer up his only son, Isaac,
III whom was all his expectation. God in
terposed for him, but not for his own Son,
who died for you and Inc on Calvary, in
sight OF that self fsame Mount Morah.
Perhaps as Abraham stood there the veil
was lifted, and looking down the vista of
time he saw Christ carrying his cross by the
side of Calvary. The story is told of man
who was conscripted under Napoleon, who
was killed. 1t happened that the man
was conscripted again, but he took the
ground that he was technically dead, as the
substitute had died in his place. When an
appeal was taken to Napoleon, the Emperor
decided that in the law the man was exempt.
This may be true or it may not, but of
one thing ! am certain, and tn t is, Jesus
Christ died in your stead and mine for our
sins, and we are now exempt from the law if
we have faith to accept the substitution that
has been made.
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
The Eternal Rock.

What commentary upon the word,
"Whosoever falls on this stone shall be
broken" is the whole history of the heresies
OF the church and the assaults of unbelief
Man after man, rich in gifts, endowed Of
ten with far larger and nobler faculties
than the people who oppose him, with in-
domitable perseverance, martyr to his er-
ror, sets himself up against the truth that
is sphered i'll Jesus Christ and the great
divine message simply goes on its way, and
all the babbement and noise is like so many
bats flying against the light or the wild sea
birds that come sweeping up in the tempest
and the night, against the hospitable Pharos
that is upon the rock, and smte themselves
dead against it. Skeptcs well known in
their generation, who made peoples hearts
tremble for the ark of God, what has be-
come of them? Their books lie dusty and
undisturbed on the top shelf of their libra
ries; whilst there the Bible stands with all
the scribblings wiped off the page, as though
they had never been Opponents fire their
small shot against the great Rock of Ages,
and the pellets fall flattened and only scale
oil bit of the moss that has gathered
there My brother, let the history of the
past, with other deeper thoughts, teach you
and me very calm and triumphant con-
iidence about all hatpeople say nowadays /;
for all the modern opposition TO the gospel
will go as the past has gone and the newest
systems which cut and carve at Christianity
will go TO the tomb where all the rest have
gone, and dead old infdelities will rise up
from their thrones, and say to the brand
new ones of this generation, when their day
is worked out, Ah are ye also become like
one of us y Whosoever shall fall on this
stone shall be broken;" personally, he will
be harmed and his opinions, and his books,
and his talk, and all his augmentation,
will come to nothing, like the waves that
break into impotent foam against the rocky
cliffs.-Aler McLaren.
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
An Idle Word.

How inadvertently spoken, and yet how
frequently with serious and painful results.
How many hearts has an idle word severed
how many broken. For true ii is that a
lhoughtless expression will make breach
between those that fate, in its visitation,
could not divide hearts that would have
struggled together through the storm of life
that would have clung to each other for
'trength when its buffetings had almost
overwhelmed them, that would have brayed
III the changes of flutuating fortune and
'lll see In their own unchanging love a
5leam of brightness through the blackest
cloud. And yet an idle word-one--has sep
trated hearts like these. The breach once
made, Others step in to make it wider and
wider. False pride, mistaken feelings, the
sudden bitterness the heart can feel even
towards those it loves, all aid the work OF
cruelty, the distance increases day by day,
lntll finding it impossible to return, like
the wrecked mariner, they give up in de-
'palr aud sit down to mourn over their fate,
careless, it seems, whether they live or die.
And this is not the romance of youthful
Affection, though there is perhaps more suf.
tering from the early disappointment of the
heart than the more serious ones after life
produces. No, it is witnessed in the expe-
rience of every one in the friendships of
life, in the family circle, in business-what
Misunderstanding, what ruptures, what
chickering's. Strife and irreconcilable diff
ference have arisen from one idle word it
may have been spoken in jest, in spirit of
levity, in an attempt to be witty, or it may
nave been said innocently or inadvertently
with no motive and no intent, aud still, for
some cause of which you are totally igno-
rant certain party applied the remark ac-
companied by knowing wink and in mo-
ment firebrand was kindled.
How entirely do we ignore that :" he who
ruleth his tongue is mightier than he who
t,keth city, that on the last day before
the tribune of the Eternal Judge we shall
have to tender an account for every idle
word
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04

hoofs Of some great animal. The sound
drew nearer. Bang Bang against his
door. II flew open and in walked bullock
paving the floor and shaking his horns In
the greatest rage.
lnsolent wretch !" he cried, "why darest
thou TO enter here know ye not that this
is the home of the spirits ?" lie drew nearer,
still shaking his head in the most threaten
ing manner.
The earl arose and with his sword drew a
circle upon the floor.
"Beast or human" cried he, "if you cross
that mark / will kill you"
The animal paused, stepped back, and
looked into the stern, determined face for a
moment, and then the mask of the beast
was thrown aside and man stepped forth.
Sir" said he, "you are the first man
that has ever dared to enter here. DO you
know that this is the stronghold of the rob.
bers that have been infesting this country ?
You must not leave this place alive"
You do not know TO whom You speak.
am the Earl of Stair, my men are camped
near by, and | have ordered them not TO
leave one stone of this castle unturned if !
do not return"
You are brave man, and if you will
spare us we will spare you"
If you will leave the country within two
weeks you may go unmolested, but if | re-.
turn and find you here, you will be treated
as robbers"
"We will depart and you may return un-
harmed. But come now to our banquet
hall you know the spirits have a feast at
midnight. Come and sup with u.s."
The Earl was conducted to large under
ground room where long tables were spread ;
here, too their plunder was kept, and the
robbers explained how, for many years.
they had frightened the ignorant inhabit-
ants with marvellous sights and noises.
The Earl feasted with the robber band
and at daybreak took leave of his strange
companions. When after three weeks ab.
sence he marched back through the country
they had all disappeared. And ghosts are
seen no more about the castle.
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
Thirty Years n Stranger at Home.

Men may escape the law, but their own
consciences they can not flee from. Many
years ago young man in this city was
guilty Of an offense against the law, an of.
fence which brought social ruin upon him.
self and family. The man aud his offense
are forgotten by the public, yet he lives,
and lives here in Boston. But from the
day his offense was discovered although
having escaped the law, he is free to come
and go as he pleases-he has never been
seen outside of his own home in the day
time. Sometimes, under the cover of night,
he walks abroad to take an airing, and note
the changes that thirty years have wrought,
but an ever active conscience makes him
shun the light of day, and the faces of men,
and he walks apart a stranger in the midst
of those among whom he has always lived.
Boston Transcript.
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
The Origin OF Sunday-SchOOls.

Mr.. X. Bowling has upon the easel, and
preparing for the next exhibition of the
Royal Academy, picture which cannot
TAIL to interest that vast number of the
people of this country and her colonies, as
also the United States, who recognize the
blessings which have been derived from
Sunday-schools, and desire their continu-
ance and extension. The scene is an old
lane in the ancient city of Gloucester, now
called Hare-lane, but which was the Here
or Army-lane or route in ancient times,
and at the bottom of which the house of
the Rev. Thomas Stock, vicar of st. John
the Baptist, Gloucester, was situated. 1t
was in this lane, not far from Mr. Stocks
house, that Robert Raikes (the Gloucester
printer) one day met Mr.. Stock, and being
annoyed by the misconduct of the children
playing around them, and told that it was
much worse on Sundays, when none of
them had any work to do, the two gentle
men conceived the plan, which they after
wards conformity carried out, of establish
ing schools, TO which the children of the
poor might be sent on Sundays, and taught
at any rate, the rudiments of religion and
good manners. This interview is the sub
ject chosen by Mr. Bowling for his picture,
and he places it in front of an old Eliza
bethan house in Ilare-lane, in which was
held one of the first Sunday-schools. The
figures of Mr.. Raikes and Mr.. Stock are
both portraits--the one taken from an en-
graved portrait of Mr.. Raikes, the other
from silhouette now in the possession of
lady who was connected with Mr.. Stock S
family. They are surrounded by groups
of idle, dissolute boys and girls engaged
in fighting gambling, aud rude sports, To
the great annoyance of the neighbors and
respectable passers-by. Mr.. Raikes and
Mr.. Stock are evidently talking of the an
noyance and discussing the means of pre-.
venting it, 1t will be seen from this de
scription that the picture is not of Sun
day-school, nor intended to indicate the
house in which the first school was held
for, by the way, there are many old house,
III Gloucester that lay claim to that honor
the explanation of which probably is thai
an early Sunday-school was held in each o.
them. The artist simply designs TO indi
cate the circumstances under which Sun
day.schools originated, and thereby Civ,
10 Mr.. Raikes and Mr.. Stock the honor O
originating them-to which it is now clea
that they are both equally entitled. 1
was a simple incident, that meeting, bu
resulted in momentous consequences. A
James Montgomery has charningly com
memorated it
"Once by the Seyeru's side
| little fountain rose;
Now like the Severns seaward tide
Round the whole world II flows"
We believe this picture will be regarde,
with much interest, and should not be SUI
prised If an engraving of it became yer
popular.-English Paper.
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
The Haunted Castle.

Near the Cheviot Hills, in one of the
most romantic parts of Scotland, stood such
quaint old castle, very much overgrown
with lichens and ivy, and very much dreaded
by those who lived in the immediate neigh
borhood. Many, many years ago ii was the
stronghold of the chieftain, Kerr. lie was
a bold, fierce warrior, and many are the
crimes committed within these grey stone
walls. One morning the great chief was
missing his door was broken open and
there he lay dead. Some thought he had
taken his own life, but many more believed
the evil spirits had come and claimed him
for their own. The attendants and servants
WIRE so frightened that they fled from the
castle and it remained great number of
years unoccupied There was none bold
enough TO venture near it either by day or
night. 1t was asserted that 1t was haunted,
that strange beings had been seen fitting
about the woods, and at the hour of mid.
night the spirits held banquet there.
About this time it happened that the
Earl of Stair was marching through the
country with company of soldiers, and
hsaring these wonderful stories, determined
tospend the night at the castle. lie said,
as he took leave of his men "If am not
hack by eight o'clock in the morning, come
10 the castle, and il you don't find me, don't
lave one stone above another"
lie followed the solitary woodland path,
and almost before he knew it, he was stand.
Ing upon the old drawbridge. The great
dors creaked upon their hinges, and his
iOtfalls echoed through the empty rooms
had now grown quite dark. lie lighted
lis candle, drew his Bible from his pocket
md began 10 read. Presently there was a
terrible crash, the very walls trembled. lie
ieard a noise on the stairs. II was not foot
teps, but sounded more like the clankinp
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04

laughter the heart is sorrowful," aud those
who seem to.forgct have often the saddest
hearts. In each and all of us life Is two
fold; two beings dwell within us, one active,
busy, absorbed in the duties and pleasures
of this world while the other is sadly and
dreamily living in the past, treadng with
tears the former paths stopping to remem
ber look, to pursue a shadow.
Yes, even the frivolous man of the world
has his memories gentle voice reechoing
from the past; one confding word one
"touch of vanished hand" something
sudden, unexpected. and 10 the nood-gates
are opened, and the waves of sorrow are
rushing over him; his heart beats quick, he
seizes once again with passionate inten-
sity the image Of his beloved one-it is his,
it is not dead, and the joyous loving past
lives again for him.
But when we see light returning to the
eyes that wept, when life begins TO flow
again in its wonted channels, then we are
apt to say, " that which is finished is finished,
and the memory of the dead has perished
forever"
Not so.
After those first days when the anguish
OF separation is lacerating the heart, and it
cares not TO conceal the depth of its wounds,
u'NiV SpIhVo a itdcblDll, an ONeTpOWeTl0p ut-
sire, craving for isolation holy jealousy
takes possession of the soul, the gates are
barred against intruders, the doors of the
chamber of death are sealed, the brow is
taught to deny everything, tortures, memoir
ies while within, an, within the lamp of
sorrow is burning with an ardent glow and
many passing word will make the heart
strings quiver with a poignant agony, even
while the lips are discoursing of common
thngs-ay and perchance with smiles.
Then the heart will commune with its be-
loved dead, in sacred stiffness which even
the tenderest sympathy may not break.
Then are lavished forth those expressions of
endearment perhaps in life but charity be-
slowed then perhaps is forgiveness craved,
confessions are poured forth with burning
tears, all the springs of emotion are stirred |
to their very depths, and harmonies so sweet
and solemn are ringing in the temple of the |
soul, that even friends voice mingling
Herewith would seem to jar and give pain |
as discordant note.
Oblivion Nay, think not so sane
tuary, holy Of holies, shrouded with veil
forever.
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
Mans Part i'm the Work,

There is abroad pernicious idea that il
dishonors God to talk of human effort in the
formation of holy character. As well talk
OF dishonoring the God of nature by plow-
ing and planting, by enrichng and cult.
waiting the soil. Will all the idle prayers
you can offer drain a swamp, and fit it for
service Is God dishonored when man
drains swamp and secures its soil for rich
crops of grass and grain Nay, it is dis
honoring to God when man fails thus to do
his part. We honor God when we seek out
his methods and conform to Them we dis
honor him when we fail either to learn his
ways, or to conform to them.
There is much indeed in nature and in
grace, Tor which we are entirely and abso-
Iutely dependent on God, and are helpless in
his hands. But when God, in his infinite
goodness, performs his part, there is much
that he has wisely made to depend on our
own efforts. The fact that God has done so
much for us, so far from releasing us from
effort, furnishes the very reason why we
should exert ourselves. Hence Paul saws :
Work out your own salvation with fear
and trembling" for this very reason, that
sit is God that worketh in you to will and
to do of his own good pleasure"
If we would be honest, we must strive
against every, even the least, temptation to
deceit and untruthfulness. If we would be
amiable, we must struggle to repress rising
passion and school our impulses to submis.
sion to the dictates of reason. If we would
be benevolent, we must put our selfishness
to the torture and compel ourselves to gen.
erous deeds. If we would be devotional, we
must come face TO face with God and truth,
and culiirqie a sense of the divina ,,rasanoo
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
When Desire Shall Fail.

Of all the pathetic sentences in that most
perfect of descriptions in Ecclesiastes none
seems to me quite so touching as this one
And the grasshopper shall be burden,
and desire shall fail" When we are young,
we take hold of many things eagerly. We
delight in activity. We fling ourselves ar
IDENTIFY into our work and our play. But in
old age, the interest grows languid Dis
appointments do not greatly depress, nor
does success very much elate us. al thought
never could give up my favorite pleasures, q"
said lady who had reached life's evening.
" | did not then realize how easily they
would give me up"
One desire only does not fail. Over the
river burn the lights of home. There stands
the Fathers house, with an open door for
the children, and when the children are
once there, they will lose the wrinkles, and
the dim eyes will brighten, and they will be
young again.
When death comes to the little babe, to
the young girl, to the man in his strength,
We sometimes feel that it is calamity. So
many promises are blighted, so many hopes
disappointed, and so many affairs are ar
rested, that we are saddened and amazed
But when the pilgrim has rounded out the
tull threescore-and-ten, when life TRANQUILITY
expires to be resumed in the land where all
're glad and young forever, we can only lift
our voices in praise.
A friend not long since attended the fu-
neral of very dear relative who had at
tanned to the great age of ninety-four. Sixty
years, lifetime, had passed since her hus-
oand had been laid in the grave. Sur
rounded by children and grandchildren, the
peaceful mother quietly met the angel, for
whom she had looked and waited so long
Her mind was clear and unclouded. Her
last words were wise and tender, and she
bade one and another so live as to serve God
faithfully, and go to him when the time
should come. Of such departure we can
truly say:
1t is not death to die,
To leave this weary road,
And with the brotherhood on high
To be at home with God. -.Seiected
Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1879-06-04
Mura1 and ReligiunS.


Mary and Martha.
Mary and Martha both were winsome girls,
Twin-born, and wont to lay their lustrous curs
on one soft pillow. Beautiful the sight,
The gold ard black. abundant and 50 bright.
The father and the mother Oft would stand,
And gaze together on them, hand in hand
And wonder II this side Of heaven auglrt
so beautiful The hand of God had wrought,
And then with grateful hearts. upon their Knees
Would fall, and heavens gracious promise seize
with the nnn grasp Of faith and hope, and plead
For such protection as such iran things need.
Their prayers were heard. and kindly answered too
Their Joys werem many, and their sorrows few.
Unlike the girls were, hut they both were fair.
Mary, the blonde was sweet "a summer air,
When roses MI are blooming, quiet sim,
Bpt quick. as leaves the breeze to feel the thrl
OF passion pure. the ecstacy Of love.
She held herself with Arm control above
The reach Of selfish, low. and sordld aims.
And listened loyalty to truths pure claims.
Feeling with her, though noiseless, yet was deep,
And through the currents Of her life would creep,
A doth the rlppllng brook tho forest hides,
As through the sheltered gorge it mufied gdes.
Martha's dark hair became her flashing eyes,
And rcd-hrown checks. and lips Of mingled dyes
OF cherri and OF ribcs buds Of bliss
To one they frankly favored with kiss
She had not Mary's quiet self-control.
Though pure, like her, with equal wealth Of soul,
Emotion rushed along the throhblng tide
OF her young blood, like torrents In their pride,
Not careful noiseless channels to select
That only tranquil images reflect;
So tempered, that when happy she was full
OF bliss, nor was her sense OF anguish dull.
II was not very easy 10 decide,
The difference between them wide
Which could enjoy, and which could suffer most,
And none OF either could perfection boast.
Though this Acknowledgement to both il due
That both were good, both sensible and true,
And each in quite different way was fair.
She Of the golden, she Of the raven hair.
She of the sun-drped she Of the lily cheek.
'Twere vain nobler, lovelier pair to seek.