2
E
U
-----
JOHN BROWN:
OR A POOR . ,
I've a crmvn 1 can spend,
I've a wife and a friend,
And a troop of little children at my I John Brown;
I've a cottage of niy own,
With the Icy overgrn/rn.
Ind a garden with n view of the sea, John Brown.
1 eall Sit at my door,
By My shady yycaniore.
Large of heart, Um' of very small estate, John Brown.
So conic and drain a glass.
In my arbOr as you pass,
nd I'll tell you what 1 love and what I 'hate, John
Ihsawn.
I love the song' of birds,
And the children's early words
:lad a loving wan ias yoke, I,w and sweet, John Drown.
And I hate a false pretence,
• And the what of e,hunon sense,
nd arrogance and fawning and deceit, John Drown.
I love the meadow flowers,
And the briar in the bowers,
I love an open face without grille: John Drown.
And I hate a selfish knave,
And a proud contented slave,
ad a lout who'd rather borrow than he'd toil, John
brow
I love a simple song,
That, awakes emotions strong.
M=NO2=2=
IMEM
And I hate the constant whine
Of the foolish who repine, ^
ad turn their good to evil by complaints, John Brown
But ever when I hate,
If I seek iny rnrden gate,
ad survey the world artmnd and aLove, John Brown,
The hatred flies my mind,
And I sigh for human kind;
ad excuse the Mulls of those I cannot love,John Brown
So if von like my ways,
And illy eoinfort of.nty days,
call Lell you how I live so unVexed, John Brown:.
1 neverNrt , rll my health,
Nor sell my soul for wealth,
3r . destroy one slay the pleasures of the next, John
Brow it
I'ci• parted wi th ius pri , lo,
And I tllht, (.110 (1111111 y side
•r I've found It wot se than folly to head, 4 .l,llin Brown
koop a r clear.
I've a linlotred pounds a year,
r, ad I manage 1,0 r‘iNt and to be John Brown.
rlrrt 11lllr.
STORY - OF
THE BACK ROOM WINDOW
BY BARRY CORNWALL
We live in a. world of busy passions:--
E4, - re and hate, sorrow and joy,-in a thousand
shapes, are forever near us. Death is at our
threshold. Life springs up almost at our feet
)ur neighbors aremexultations, agonies I"
Ind yet we scorn to live on, ignorant of all.
Could we but unroof (Asmodeus-like) the
houses which, day after oy,Yiesent towards
as so insensible an aspect, what marvels
might we not disclose 1 What fruitful
thoughts whift - radraiirtiiSiOns, would throng
into our brain 1 The mystery of human con
duct would lie unveiled. We should see and
know all men truly... We should seethe mi
ser, the spendthrift, the scholar, the toilb , ig
artisan, the happy bride cud the girl deserted;
(like the people in the palace-of Truth,) all
contributing their share to` the unknown ro•
tiyanp, which time is forever weaving around
us. As it is, each of them spins out his lit
tle thread, and dies almost unknown, and
soon - forgotten ; -unless some curious accident,
should arise, to extend his• influence in au
other region, or to hold his "fame" in susiicn•
Con, twenty yr ars after his coffin has been
lowered in the dust.
It was some such chance as I have just
"adverted to that threw into our knowledge
certain facts regarding a. neighboring tinnily,
whiclislse bad slipped very_ niet into obliv-
ion. You 'AI observe, that what lam about
to r.elate is almost literally a fact.
"Some years ago, we lived, as you know,
in B Square. The room in which wo
usually .dwelt was at the back of alehouse.
t It was spacious othrnot without pretentions
to be graceful, the marble chimney place be
ing distinguished by a painting of Cipriano,
whilst on the ceiling lay some of the conven
tional elegances of the Angelica Kauffrthin.
From the windows that occupied the North
ern extremity of the romp we looked (to the
left of a large oriental plane) upon the back
of a crescent of houses—the points of the
arc receding from . us. [I , mention these
• things merely to recall to your mind our pre
cise position.]
• "In the , centre of this crescent was a houSe
which hid fora long time been untenanted.
Whilstits neighbor dwellings were all bus.'
ay with, life, and motion, this • only was for
-'-4-110-me_reasop,tleserted. We were heginnin
to:speculate On the cause of this accident,
and to pity the unhappy landlord, Whose pock.
ete,,wqre lamenting the lack of rent., when
suddenly—it was on an April 'morning—We
perceived for the first time, signs of change.
The windows of the deserted mansion ivero
opened, and workmen wore, seen bustling ,
about its different , rooms. There was an air
r :{ - of preparation, evidently, which 'announced
an incoming ten:int, • •
"Well said A. , . "at last that unhap
py. 'man has found one bold enough to' take
his haunted house, or 'perhaps, after all,
• 'lc is merely endeavoring to decoy the unwa.
ry,paseugur I We shall see,"
f: , tv ue-Trion
p
and beautified, and the odor of the paint suf:
fermi to fade - away, various articles of,furni-
Lure were brOgbt into the, rooms. These
were of moderate price, and explainedlo us
that the tenant was a person of respectable
station but not rich. We began to feel a wish
to know "what maniittr of Man " he - was.
Our interest in the ogee empty house had
received a new impulse; and we looked out.
day.after day- for the stranger's arrival.'
"At last a young man of lively agrea 7
bl e yresen 'one morning seen giving
Ldirections to a female servant, about the dis
position or the furniture. `lie was evidelit
,ly master or the mansion. Ile stayed for
Wl' an hour, and then departed ; and he re
peated his short visits daily• lie was prob
ably a clerk in some public office, a met.
"ehant,.or professional man, whose time was
required elsewhere. But, why did he not re
side there ? That was a problem that we
strove to solve in vain. In the end, he went
away altogether.
"Each morn We missed him in 111' accustomed room."
"And nOW 110 One, except; the solitary
niltid, was seen throwing open the windows
in the morning to let in the vernal May sun;
° closing the tit night ; rubbing with.a deli
cate hand the new furniture; gazing at the
unknown n'eighorhood ; or sitting listlessly
in the afternoon, "imparadised" in rustic
dreams ; she appea . red to be the sole spirit
of the spot. h was not the yeints loci which
we had reckoned upon. ,Our imagimitions
were riot. Slitisfied and we looked forward
to another collier. •
"We Were not disappointed. After the
lapse of a fortnight from the young man's do-
parture, our inquisitive eyes discovered him
again. Ile was sitting at breakfitst with a
lady by his side. Pretty, young, neat, and
'from:he:La -fiSot-ifi-Avlrite-;—she-was
evidently a bride. We rushed at once upon
this conjecture ; awl eprtnin tender manifes
tations, on the husband's leave-taking, con
firmed us in our opinion. Ile went away ;
and she, left to herself,, explored, as - far as
we could observe, all the rooms in the house
Everything was surveyed with a p
1 111 1 11111111 l
nitration.; every drawer opened; the 10e
book-case contemplated, and its: slenderl.'o.o
of books all, one by one, examined.—Final
ly, the maid was called up, some inquiries
made and the,. surrey re-commenced., The
lady had nowsome-one to eneonrage her
open-expression' or - delight. We Could al
most fancy that we heard her Words: "How
beautiful it is 1 What a comfortable sofa 1—
what a charming screen! how kind,-how
good, how considerate of l t -was
together a pretty scene. •
"Let us pass over the autumn and wiutbr
months. During, a portion of this time we
ourselves were absent in the country i and
when nt home we remember but little of
what happened. There. was little or no va•
riety to remark upon r or, possibly our curios
ity had become abated.
"At last, spring came, and with it came a
thousand signs of cheerfulness and life. The
plant put tbrth its tender leaves; the sky
grew blue overhead (even in London) and
4he windows of the one melancholy house
shone blushing with many flowers. So May
-passed; and June came on, with its air all
ich--wit-h—roses.---ilut—tlmlady-?—kh l - her
cheek now waxed pale, and her step grep•
weak and faltering. Soinetimes she ventured
into her small garden, when the sun was full
upon it. 'flit oilier times she might be seen
is;earied with needle-work, or sitting languid.
y alone; or, when her husband was at home
before and after his hours of business) she
walked a little to and fro, leaning on him for
support. His devotion increased with her in
firmity. It was curious to observe how love
had tamed• the high and frolicsome spirit of
the man. A joyous and perhaps common
canner now beenme serious and refined
'ho weight of thought perhaps lay on
him
lie responsibility of love. It is thus, that
in some natures, love r _is wanting for their
full development. It raises, and refines, and
ningnifies the intellect, which would else re
main .dull,• trivial, and prostrate. From a
seeming barrenness, the. human heart springs .
into fertility—from vaguengsa,lntpl f ehm:mter :
from — dulinescinto - sigor aud - benntyoinder
the "charming wand". of love: But let its
proceed.
"Oil a glittering night in August, we saw
lights flashing about the house, and people
hurrying up and, down, as ou smile urgent
occasion. By degrees the.tuiruilt subsided;
tho passings backward and forward became
less . frequOnti and at last tranquility was re
stored. *single light burning in an Upper
window, alone told that some one kept:watch
through .the night. .Tim next morning the
knocker of the. house was (we were told)
shrouded in white leather; aid the lady had
brought her husband a child! Wo drank-tu.
its health is 'wine.
"foGr at ( ( Ay.: • itui , A;littlig__q.bli! I
earliele ficralb.
part: Hurry and alarm cane again. Lights
were seen once morOjlieltering to and fro.—
The Physician's- carriage was heard.. It came
and departed. The maid now held her apron
to her eyes. The husband, buryilig his face
in his hands, strove (how vainly I) to hide a
world of grief. Ere long the bedroom win
thiw was thrown open; the 'shutters of the
house were dosed, and in a wedlc a hearse
was at the door. The mystery was at an end ;
she was dead.
"She died! No, poet ever wove around
her the gaudy 'tissue of his verse. The grave
she sleeps in is probably nothing more than
the common mould. Her name even is un
known. `ut what of this? She, lived and
was lamented. The proudest can boast Of
but little more. She made the light and
happiness of one mortal creature, fond and
fragile as herself—anti of tatne, a tomb?
Alas! for all the purposes of love, nothing is
wanted save a - little earth—nothing but to
know the spot where -the beloved one rests
forever. We fear, indeed, to give the crea
ture'whom we have hoarded in our heaps to,
'the deep, and ever-shifting waters—to the
oblivion of the sea! We desire to know.
where it is Wp have laid our fading treasure.
Otherwise the pilgrimage is as easy and as
painful to the simple church-yard hillock, as
to the vault in which a king reposes. The
gloomy arches of stately tombs, what are
they to the grandeur of the over-Itang;ng
heavens! and' the cold and ghastly marble,
how poor and hideous it is, in comparison ,
with the turf whereon many a daisy grows"!
"The child survived. The cares lately ex
hausted on anOther, were now concentrated
on a little child. The solemn doctors cante,
and prescribed for. it, and took their golden,
fees. The nurse transferred to it her ready
- smiles; -- =The--services-which-had--been—pur—l
chased for the mother, were now the property
of another claimant. Even tIM father turned
towards it all his heart which was not in the
I grave. It was part of her who had strewn
sunshine in his path, and he valued it accord
ingly.
"But all would 'not do. A Month, -'a little
month," and the shutters were again closed.
Another funeral followed swiftly upon the
last. The mother and her child were again
together.
`Trout this period a marked change arose
in the man's character. The grief which
had bowed him down at his wife's death (re
lieved a little by the care which he bestowed
upon her child,) now changed to a sullen or
reckless indifference. in the morning he
was clouded oppressed; but at night a mad
ness and dissonant jollity, (the madness of
wine) usurped the place of cally sorrow.—
Sometimes he drank with wild companions ;
sometimes he was seen alone, staggering to
wards the window, stupid and bloated, ere
the last light of the-autumn sunset concealed
him from our sight. There were steadier
intervals, indeed, when reflection wotild come
upon him—perhaps remorse; when he would
gaze with a grave (or oftener a sad) look
upon The few withered flowers that once flour
ished in his gay window. What was he then
thinking of? Of vanished hopes and' happy
hours? Of her patience, her gentleness, her
deep, untiring love? Why did he not'sum
' -mon up_inore_cheerfutviaions-Z--Where,-wa's
his old vivacity? his young and happy spirit?
The world offered the same allurements as
before, with the exception of one single joy.
Ohl but this was all. That was the one
hope, the One thought, that had grown vast
and absorbed all others. This was the mir
ror Which had reflected happiness a thousand
ways. Under that influence ths,Ncsent, the.
past, and the 'bright to come—all had scented
to east back upon him the pictures of innu
merable_ blessings. He had trod, even in
dreams, upon a ~And now-1
"But why prolong the pain and disg.ace
'of the story? He fell, Step by step. Sick
ness was on his body; despair'was in his
mind. He shrank and wasted away, 'old
before his and might haVe subsided
into a paralyzed cripple, or a moodyldiot,
,had not (for once a friend) come; suddenly to
him, and 'rescued him from further misery.
it7111:0 - vifir tin d Child Vaded ied
-before-him.-'-"The genie signs--were-there--
the unnatural quiet-the closed Shatters--
and the funeral train. But all in their time ,
disappeared; and in a few. weeks workmen
came thronging again to the empty house;
the 'rooms 'Were again scoured—the walls
beautified. The same board which two yearB
before had heen nailed to the wall, with the
significant words `To LET' upon it, was again
fixed there. It seemed almost as though the
old,time•bad returned again, and that the
interval Was nothing but a dream.
And is this all? Yes, that is all. I wish
that I Auld have crowned my , story with' a
brighter. ending. But it was not to be. I wish "
that h cool i IhtVe 111011;:herni:',
\\:! 11,`V , ':, 1;1 •11 ' •;'11;1 r1"11
the common threadbare story of human life
—first hope, and then enjoyment, and 'then
sorrow—all ending quietly in the grave., It
is an ancient tale. The vein runs' through
man's many histories. Some of them may
present seeming varieties—a life without
hope. or. joy—or a career beginning gaily,
and. running. merrily to its close. But thiS
.is because we do not read the inner secrets
of the soul—the thousand, thousand small
pulsations, which 'yield pain or pleasitre to
the human mind. Be assured - that there is'
do morb of equality or stagnation in the
heart, than in the ever-moving ocean.
You will aslt me,, perhaps, to raiint out
Something from which'yon may derive a pm
fitable lesson. Are you to learn how to,reg
ulate your passions? to arm your heart with
iron precepts? to let in neither too much love
nor sorrow? and to shut out all despair?—
Some wise friends will tell you that you may
learn, by precepts, never to lean too• much
otAttkers; for that thereby you lose your in
dependent mind. To be the toy of a woman
—to rest your happiness on the existence of
a fragile girl, whom ,the breath of the east
wind may blow into dust—it is anything but
the act of a.wisc and prudent man. And to
grieve for her after she is dead!—te sigh for
what is irrecoverable ! What can be more
senseless? All this can be proved by every
ride of logic.
For my part, I can derive nothing for you
from my story, except perhaps that it may
teach you, like every tale of human suffer
ing, to sympathize with your hind. And
this, metbinks,, is better, and possibly quite .
as necessary; as any high-wrought or stern
example,-which shuts the heart up, instead
of persuading it to expapd; whieh teaches
prudence instead of love; and -'reduces the
aim_of_a_good_man's life to a. low_and sordid
mark, which all are able, and most of us too
well contetited,to reach.
'WO should - not commit wrselves to the
fields and inhale • the fresh breath of the
spring, ;Merely to gain strength to . resume
.our dry ualculations, or_to inflict hard anines
• • •
upon iiimple flowers. We should not read
the sadness of;, domestic history, merely to
_extract some prudent lessons for ourselves. 4---
WC' should open our hearts beneath these
great influences,:and endeavor to learn . that
we possess the right, the power, nay,, the 'wish
(though it may sleep) of doing good to
ot 10s, to a degree that we little dream of.
So persuaded arn I . of this truth, that I
have invented a sentence wherein to enshrine
it, and I hope that you will not entirely con•
deinn it until•you have given it the consider,
ation of, a friend. It is this—" Let but the
heart he opened, and a thousand virtues will
rush in."
M7rl7Tl I;7:II7MTV-17Till
A short time since a railroad accident took
place near London, by which Mr. Railing
was killed, who, it seem 4 was an eccentric
character of the qucerest kind. He was a
man of wealth, Millit; heirs paid him the
accustomed funeral honors, expecting to en
joy liberal bequests ; but when his will was
opened it road as follows:—".1 giVe and be
queath all my goods, present or future, mov ,
able "or imttaivabltvitr -England-nr-Ern—the
continent,,to that railroad company on whose .
road 1 have had'the happiness to meet with
death, that blessed deliverance from my ter
restrial prison." • Further on the testator
gives his reasons for his bequest. The idea
bad taken firm possession of his mind thin
he was destined to die a violcnt death, and
the most desirable one, in his view, was that
caused by the explosi . on of a locomotive.—
He travelled, therefore, constantly on the
railroads in England, Belgium-and France.
There was not a station where he was not
known. All the conductors were familiar
I with his peculiar costume. He 'had narrow•
is escaped death several tines. Once he
was shut up in a car under water, another
time he was in the next ear to- the one that
was shattered, and he described with the
greatest enthusiasm those terrible accidents,
when
..lte,.saw. death so near without
. being
able to obtain it. Disappointed: in Europe,
he - went to - Um He — made - United States. e-mandelq
quent excursions on the Ohio, the Mississip.
pi, the Ontario, and the Niagara, but notwith
standing frequent explosions, he returned
with a whole skin. He was destined to be
crushed under a car of the mother country.
()on Font:siGur.—Lady Margaret Herbert
ashwi,.—somehody. for a .pretty pattern for a
nighteap. • • •
"Welli" said the .person, "what signifies
the pattern of a nightcap?
"Oh, child," said she, "but you knsm,'in
Case of fire!"
Irv-There is no mint but bath a soul ; nnd
u m aro
ELOQUENCE OF PATRICK HENRY
Patrick Henry was a distinguished orator
and patriot of Virginia, who lent his power
ful influence to the cause of the Revolution.
Hook was a Scotchman a man of'Wealth and
suspected of being unfriendy to ifid Ameri
can cause, During the distress of the. Amer
ican army, consequent on the•joint invasion
of Cornwallis and Philips, in I 7HI, a Mr.
Venable, an army commi4sary, had 'taken
two of hook's steers for the use of the troops.
The act had not been strictly legal ; and on
the establishment of peace, Hook, on the ad
vice of Mr..Cowan, a gentleman cif sortie dis
tinction in the law, thought prop6-'febring
are action of trespass against Mr Venable; in
the district court of London. .Mr. Ilenry.ap
peared for the defendant, and is said to have
deported himselfin this cause to the infinite
enjoyment of his hearers, the unfortunate
Hook always excepted.' After Mr Henry be
came animated in the cause, sayS
pondent, he appeared to hay.d'eoniplete'con-,
trol.over the passions of hiS audionee ; at
one time he excited their indignation against
Hook! vengeance was visible in every comae- .
trance ; again when he chose to relax, and
ridicule hint, the whole audience was in a
roar of laughter. He painted the distres
ses of the Ameliean Army, exposed: . almost
naked to the rigorous winter's skY,.nitiniark
ing with the blood of their unshod feet the
frozen ground over which They trod. "Where
is the man," he said, "who has an American
heart, n hi. bosom, who would not have
thrown open his fields, his barns, his cellars,
the doors of the house, the portals •of hi'
breast; lo`liave received Witnipen arms, the
meanest soldier in the little band of fitmished
patriots? Where is the man ? There be
stands—but whether the heart of do Ameri
can beats in his bosom, you gentlemen are
to judge." He then, earicd the jury, by the.
poWer or his imagination, to the plarni
around New _York, the_ surrender of which
fbllowed shortly after the act complained of;
he depicted the :surrender in the most 'glow
ing and noble colors of his eltiquenen - i; the
- - -nrafience saw before their eyes the humilia
tion and dejection of the British, as they
marched out of their trenches : they saw the
triumph which lighted up every patriot face,
and .heard the shouts of victOryoind jhe cry
of "Washington tiAd Liberty," as ii .rung and
echoed thorugh the American ranks, and was
reverberated from the hills and shores of the
neighboring river. "But Hark! what notes
of discord are those which disturb the gener
al joy, and silence the ticclamatlon of vieto- -
ry? They are the notes of John !took hoarse•
by bawling through the A merican 'camp,
beef! beef! beeff" , The whole audience
were convulsed ; a particular incident will
give a better idea of the effect than any gen
eral description. The clerk of the e,onrt un
able to command himself, and unwilling to
commit any breach of decorum in his place,
rushed out of the court house„ threw' himself
on the grass in the most violent parox.ssnis
of laughter. Here be wiiiiiroling when Hook
with very different feelings, came out for
relief into the yard also. "Jemmy Steptoe,"
said he to the .clerk, "what the delll ails ye
mon I" Mr. Steptoe was only able td 'say
that he could not help it. "Never mind ye,"
said Hook, "wait till Billy Cowan gets up;
he'll show him the law l" Mr. Gowan how.
ever Was so completely overwhelmed by the
torrent which bore upon his client, that when
he arose to reply to Mr. Henry, he was scarce
ly able to make an intelligent and audible
„remark. The cause was decided almost by
acclamation. The jury retired - for - form's
sake, and immediately returned with a ver
dict for the defendant. Nor did the effect of
Mr. Henry's speech stop here. The people
were so highly excited by the - Tory audacity ,
of such a suit, that , Hook began to hear all
around lam a cry more terrible than that of
beef; it was the cry of tar and feathers, from
the application of which, it is said, nothing
saved him but a precipitate: flight rind the
speed of his horse.
BEAUTY, HOW OBTAINED AND 110 W PUESERV
EL—The true foundation of beauty in tiwo•
man exercise and •fresh air. English
lrdies of rank are celebrated, All over the
world, for their splendid persons — and their
brilliant complexions ; and they are proverb-•
ial for their attention to walking and riding.
The. sallov? cheeks, stooping figures, 808-
cuptibility to cold, nod almost constant.
health, which prevail among the • American
wives and daughters generally, are to be"
attributedi almost entirely to their sedentary
life, • A woman can ) no more bemnte beau
rc,;lllli% SO, Without 11(.1t1 ii:nlvxerciso