Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1906-07-03

QulreQ. A rev years DeloTe, ne hoo
gone out from it's college walls happy
and contented, with no want to op-
press him, no sorrow to harass, no
wrong to madden. Happy in the pos
session of his books, happy In the
friendship Of his associates, happier
still in the kindness Of his relatives a
life Of sunny brightness spread itself
out before the student. He came back
to 1t a boy still In appearance, but In
accomplishments a soldier Of proved
ability; and in heart a worn and sor-
row stricken man. He stood alone
between the graves of his honored
parents, and let his mind run back up
on the family history. For three gen.
erations it had furnished the most GEL
ebrated lawyers, clergymen, and states-
men of the provinces. His father was
eminent as the president of Princeton
college, and still more eminent as a
pulpit orator. His mother was the
most accomplished woman Of her time,
and the daughter of that Jonathan Ed
wards who is still pointed to with
pride, and whose memory is still cher
ished with fond affection by every gen.
uine son of New England. On both
sides, every drop Of blood that flowed
in his veins came from a fountain Of
unsullied purity; and in the long re-
Prospect there was not one act to call
a blush of shame to the cheek Of their
descendant. From these proud and
pleasing recollections, he came down
to his own less enviable lot.
Not upon me-" he said, "can the
curse have fallen, that the sins Of the
parent shall be visited upon the chill
dren, even unto the third generation;
for the three generations have gone by,
and each one has been marked by the
upheavings of a piety as fervent as
that of Isaiah when the Seraphim had
touched his lips with a living coal.
Why did not follow in their footsteps?
Why did I not take up the weapons
of the church, and do battle for the
redemption of souls rather than engage
in the less ennobling strife whose
fruits, however sweet, are mortal still;
and whose victories, however great, are
unsung in that eternal world in which
at last the spirit finds its resting place?
What healing balsam can the worlds
brief triumphs pour on the riven fibers
of the heart? From glory's fountain no
Lethean waters roll over buried hopes
and blasted joys. The higher we climb,
the more we become like the Alpine
glacier, from which the suns beams
are thrown in frozen radiance, and
whose very brightness reveals more dis
tinctly the gaps and rents that warning
storms have made.
Not to earthly honors did the ven
Grated dead beneath me look for con-
ISOLATION and support. Not there did
the father, the grandfather, and the
eat-grandfather turn when the trials
that afflict the upright as we'll as the
undeserving came upon them. Their
thoughts turned upward in adversely,
and to them crushed affections became
a blessing, even as the bruised petals
of the rose exhale a sweeter odor than
its opening bloom gave out. Was 1t
my fault that I accepted not the invi-
tation? Surely it was In my nature to
labor as they labored, and to worship
as they worshiped! From my earliest
boyhood the Bible has been to me the
book of books. It's grand conceptions,
its lofty poetry, and its pure morality,
apart from the memory Of its inspira-
ton, clothed 1t in raiment Of light;
and, one after another my soul drank
in it's beauties-from the bearded ma
jesty of Moses to the vailed mystery Of
Malachi; from the fiery eloquence Of
Paul to the fearful history Of John.
There was nothing repugnant to my
taste in the profession my fathers fol-
lowed. No habit of idleness to deter
no love of dissipation to draw me from
the Christians walks, or were there
wanting warm hearted friends to re-
mind me of their useful lives, and urge
me to follow their blameless example.
Yet I turned from it to wander through
the mazes OF a labyrinth that leads
know not where, but which do know
is infested by a poisonous malaria, in
whose presence peace and happiness
have withered and died. Was the
choice mine? or was 1t the fulfllment
of an eternal decree hung up in heaven
centuries ago? or have I fallen upon
the times when the Evil One, his thou
sand years of bondage over, is permit
ted to revisit the earth and lure the
creatures from the service of his Gre
ator? Oh! much of this must remain
unknown until the soul stands up be-
fore the illuminated record that Is its
accuser it's advocate, it's fitness, and
it's judge. Until that dread hour, let me
be contented with the knowledge that
the road to redemption not unfrequent-
ly runs through tears.
IN the first flush of youth, life, and
fortune were freely offered to my coun-
try. Another sacrifice was demanded;
and even as Abraham journeyed to the
mountains of Moriah with the child of
his old age, did l bear an offering
thousand times more precious than his,
and cast it down upon her affairs. But
unlike him, there was no voice to stay
m yhand-no ram entangled in the
bushes, for a substitute. The duty Is
fulfilled; the suffering remains. Yet
to suffer we'll is to triumph; and, come
what may. no tear shall roll over my
cheek-no murmur escape my lips"
The self-promise then made was
faithfully redeemed. In prosperity and
adversely; at the height of power; in
poverty and exile, that mighty heart
was true to itself. True always. True
and unfaltering to the last.
Up to this time his enemies had ac-
complished a great deal, though not all
they expected. Morally they had effec-
tually degraded him in the eyes OF
the commander in chief; but they had
not blinded him to Major Burr's MIL
itary merits. They had strong hopes
that when the army came to be re-
organized, and Washington (upon
whom congress had conferred dictato-
rial powers) should come to make his