IEI
vOL. VIII
I PEOPLE'S JOURNAL
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SACRAMENT
Up by the old roan on the hill,
Now with the creeping grass o'ergrown,
Near where the faintly springing rill
Is oozing o'er the mossy Cone—
Bard by the grouse's deep retreat,
Are' all this sof., autumnal haze,
Wait for me at the old•tiWW9 &sat,
Dear Lore of by.-gone days;
world is flushed With ceaseless charge,
Its brimming joy-sop running o'er;
Put weary of the 1/111H and strange,
I long for our old haunts once more.
long to tread each dear old hill,
Beneath its woods of red and gold,
m i uj 'n;:d their riches grand and still,
Bo seul•baptized within th• 014.
Cease shivering, trembling Aspen tree—.
I would not have thy rustling heard!
/iint2mur not now, thou Pine-wood seas
Sigh not , soil wind! chant not, sweet bird!
Lay thy dear hand in mine, my own,
That I rosy fent thy heart throbs near,
And take from God, with me alone,
The Sacrament of Silence here.
LINES
10 ► TAIL!(1) WHO WILL UND&RSTVID TIMM
Pain would I render unto thee,
Onerous young friend, the heart's
Pure gratitude. As to the eye
pj the loon traveler in some dreary waste,
Is the sweet, fragrant flower,
80, in this selfish world, (where ofontime
'fhe orer-burdened look it. wide expanse,
vain, fed rest and sympathy)
,Are acts like thine, bidding the soul
gajoire and hope, made glad to find
Fitch ndure that despite the hindrances
That ever come, as tempters strong, to
. usioify
'The love of self, hash power nobly to rise
High o'er them all.
In after years,
When the fruition of thy hope is gained,
And thou, perchance, in council chamber
And in halls of state, host won
A noble name—thou 'mid the anxious cares
That manhood's years will bring.
This simple act of kindly charity will ho
To thee as a forgotten thing. But lle •
Who keeps, with just and careful balance,
The great book of credit and of debt,
lath surely set it down io thy account,
t to when thine own dark days shall come,
And thou shalt feel affliction's chastening rod,
recd measure such as thou host given,
Will he give thee, pressed down
And running o'er.
In that great day
When as a scroll the Heavens are rolled,
Thy noble attributes of heart and mind,
Perverted not to base and narrow ends,
Put trained aright to action good and true,
Will meet with God's approving smile,
Their just reward.
Coudersport, Nov. 1855.
BEN BOLT, & SWEET ALICE
'The following is an attempt, by an
unknown writer, to embody, in a brief
story, the sentiment of that exquisite
song of Thomas Dunn English, " Ben
Dolt." It is very fine for such an at
r.empt, as such things generally fall
yory short of being worthy of their in
ppiration. This does not.j
f b, don't you remeniber millet Alice, Betz
Bolt 1
§weet Alice whose hair was so brown;
Who blushed with delight when you love her
a smile,
Andirembled with fear at your frown
in'the old church-yard in the valley, Ben
Ina flolt,
corner, secluded and lone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray,
And Alice lies under th• stone.
ffDon'L you remember I" Are
those three magic words—a key
wherewith we may unlock the flood
gatel ofthe heart; and Bond the sweet
waters of the past over the plains and
down the hills of that fairy land, knows
in.our heart experience as by-gone
Even so. Thero rise before us visions
of times when the bright, deep oyes
of the young spring gazed slyly at us
•
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from beneath the 'ermined Mantle of
winter—when the bltie violets.
their first tintfrom the blue sky abeie ;,
when the cowslips of sunny May, aid
the golden-headed buttercups first
jewelled the tender blades of , grass,
and the 'hawthorn grew white :with
its blossoms ; when, we roamed the
woods the whole of that long, warm,
lovable July holiday, weaving garlands,
and listening to the concert of birds
in that dark, mistletoe-wreathed, oaken
forest. There was one, in years agone
that prayed, l 3 Lord, keep my memory
ever green ;" and the clinging tendrils
of our hearts ge ever back yearningly
to this prayer.
But green and fresh as the poet's
prayer, had the heart of Ben Bolt been
kept. From his early boyhood to the
hour he sat by his old friend, and lis
tened to the song of bygone days.
Not " through a glass, darkly," did he
review those scenes of the past, but it
was the going back of the boy-heart to
scenes of childhood.
$l.OO
L 25
There was a little, old, red school
house, with its dusty windows, and
desks that had been nicked many a
time, trying pen knives; its tall, stern
looking teacher, whose heavy voice
caused the yolinger ones to tremble ;
its rows of boys and girls with th - eir
-heads bent attentively downward to
their books and slates. The wild
winter wind sang and whistled with
out., and some few childish hearts
tried to find words for its mournful
notes, they were too young and happy '
to know that it carried desolation and
heart-ache in its wail; yet did they
not learn it in after years I -
Then, there came a few light, round
snowballs, so tiny that it must have
been the sport of the snow spirits, in .
their.eldrich revels, changing by and
by, to feathery flakes that danced
about ever so gaily. How - the -child
ren's eyes grew: bright, as they looked
at. one another, and thought of the
merry rides down the bill, and the
snowballing that would make the play
ground ring again. The last lesson
had been said, books and slates were
put aside, and, in place of the silence,
reigned gay, glad voices. Kato Ash
ley shook back her pretty ringlets, and
laughed through her laughing oyes, as
she gave Jamie Marvin that bit of
curl he had teased so long for, because
she knew that Jamie-had the prettiest
sled in the whole school. Ah, a bit of
a coquette was the same gleeful, romp
ing Kate. And there was Sophie
Dale, looking as demure as a kitten
walking. from a pan of new milk ; and
as playful as a kitten; too, was she, in
spite of her quiet looks. And the
stately Elizaboth,—Queen Bess they
called her—and I question if England's
queen had a haughtier carriage. But .
apart from those' who were looking for
friends to take them home stood Alice
May—sweet Alice. -Very beautiful
and lovable was she, with her win
some, childish face, blue eyes, and
soft, brown curls. She was so deli
cate and fragile that you might almost
fancy her a snow child, or a lost fairy
babe.
Nearly all the children had depar
ted, amid the joyful shouts and jing
ling of bells; but yet the sweet little
ghild stood all alone, until a rich, boy
ish voice startled her by saying
" No one goes your way Alice, do
they"
" No, I guess not, Ben," sh• replied
in her fine, bird-like tones.
" Let me carry you home."
" Oh, no, I am too heavy to be car
tied safer," and then she laughed low
and sweetly.
" Heavy ! no, you're just like a this
tle down, or a snowflake, Ally;" I. Could
carry you to England and back again,
without being at all fatigued ;" and be
tossed her in his arms.
English
" No, no, let me. go ; the boys will
laugh at you lien," and she struggled,
in his %rms.
" What do I care 1 They may
laugh at Ben Belt as much as they
like ;" and the brave hoy drew him
self up proudly, and pushed the chest
nut curls from his broad, fair forehead •
DEVOTED TO THE PRINCAPLES OF DEMOCRACY J AND:THEi-DISREBIEVATION OF MOAALITY , 'L!TERATIME;:Aip IrT WS.
COUDERSPORT POTTER COUNTY 4 ; NOVEMBER . 22, If*.
"butl'di4not'ineaU tofriktiteti yOu,'!:
he;Corititioed as lie euivbow the `little
girt trembled !:: .. .. .
So she put on her bonnet and cloak
and Ben took her in his arms as if she
had been a bird, while the tiny little
thing' nestled down on big, el:milder, as
he:went stumbling through the snow,*
saying gay; pleasant things, that made
the shy little girl . laugh; and when, lit
length, -- he opened , her motbees - ccit
tage door, he stood her on the floor,
saying . •
" There, Mrs. May, I brought Alice
home lest she should get buried in a
snow bank; she's sueh a weeny thing,"
and before Mrs. May could thank hiin,
he was out of sight. . .
What a brave, glorious snow storm
it was, though. The boys built airent
snow hut, dipping the chunks of snow
into water to harden them. so they
might last longer, and they rolled large
snow balls fer a pyramid, until it; was
bigger than the schoolhbuse. They
worked . biavely, but the brightest and
pleasantest : face among them was
Ben Bolt's. Such rides as they , had
down the hill. And though the lar
ger boys and girls said Alice May was
too small and timid to join them, be
cause she felt-fearful sometiines;:.iet,
Ben Bolt held her in his.. antis; and_
away they went, merrily as any of the
rest.
But the winter -began to wane, and
now and then a soft day would come,
and lessen the pyramid and snow
house materially. Such a pity,"
they said, and wished winter would
last always, but there was one little
wren like voice that prayed for violets
and blue birds.
The pyramid tumbled down, the
snow house grew thinner and thinner,
and the boys jested about its being
in a decline, till one - day it disappeared .
—faded away, like so many of their
childish hopes.
The glad spring came with its larks
and daisies, and one beautiful day the
children w ant a Maying. Kate Ash
ley was queen, and a brilliant queen
she was, too. Bat Ben Bolt gathered
white violets and braided them in the
soft curls of Alice, and told her that
she was sweeter, dearer than a thou
sand May queens like Kate. Child as
she was, his words made the sunshine
brighter, and lent enchantment to the
atmosphere of her existence.
Then the,long Juno days came, en
circling:the green earth s‘ith a coro
nal of roses, and making it redolent
with perfume; and in the warm noon
tide hour, the Children strolled to the
foot of the hill, and clustering together
told over thor childish hopes of the
future. Some were lured by ambi
tion ; some dreamed of quiet country
repose ; some of gay city life; but there
WEIS on whose eye kindled and whose
face flushed with enthusiam, as he .
spoke of the sparkling blue waters,
and the brave ships that, breasted them
so gallantly.
Ben Bolt was going to sea. Captain
Sbisley, generous, whole souled being
as ever trod the deck,- was to take him
under his protection for 'the next five
'Years. There were exclamations of
surprise from the children, old haunts
were visited and revisited ; they sat
down iu the shade ofthe old sycamore
tree, and listened to the musical mur
mur of the brook, and the dreamy hum
of old. "Appleton's mill ;" they ex- .
changed keepsakes, and promised al--
ways to 'remember the merry, brave
hearted:bey; whose home; would be' on
the wild, blue ocean. '
Alice:May did dot join them. She
was so delicate and timid, and the
thought of Ben's departure filled her
eyes with tears ; so she would steal
away alone, fearful Of the ridicule of
her herder cortp' anions,
But 'one night Ben came to Mrs.
May's cottage to bid them: good by.
Alice stoner by the,lWindow; 'waiching
the stars.,--wonclering what made them
so dim--'—never thinking' of the tears
that dimmed her - eyes, as told
over'his hopes'se . joyfullY: She c o uld
not part with him there,. so she, walk
ed through the little door yard, and
°tot* beside the gate, aookittelikera
golden.cro%vued angel in the yellow
moonlight, and When he teld.her oF, er
again how,large she ,would:
. he on his
return ; that he would pot frare.,td call
her his little. Alice, then ; as he looked
back, liegoringly,eho laid a soft, brown
curl . in his. hand, saying
"I have kept it, for you this lop&
long time,. Ben; ever .since t.be day
you,•brought me home . through the
snow—do you, remember 3" . ,
Ho did remember, .and with one
passionate burst of grief, ho pressed
the little gitt to : his bosom ; and then
the brave hearted boy sobbed the fare
well he could find no. words for. •
But five years are net always , a life
time. True,-it was such to din-quiet,
thoughtful Charlie Allen, Whose large,
dark eyes had stolen 'brilliancy from
his books; and the laughing little Bell
Archer—botli were laid to Sleep id the
old churchyard, 'Where the night stale
'shone over their graves. Others went
out to seek a fortune in the gay world,
and some grew into miniature uterianci
women by their own sweet fireside's,
bat Alice May.'was still - a child. Yes
she was taller and her slight forrn more;
gracefully developed, but there was
the same angel looking through • her
*es, as had watched . there in olden
'times. She stayed at home now, .-to
assist her mother in sewing, their chief ,
support ; but she was the same , shy,
sweet Alice; that Ben Bolt had carried
through the snow.• • .
Ben Bolt had -come back.' how
strange that five years should pass
away so quickly, and stranger still that
this tall,' handsome sailor ~ should be
Ben Bolt. Kate Ashley was not think=
ing of the sweet Sabbath day reat, c as
the chime of the church bell floated
'through the village, there she stood
before the mirror arranging her shin
ing :curls, and fastening her dainty
bonnet, with its white ribbons land
dtooping blue bells; thinking if she
could not fascinate Ben with her spark
ling eyes; It would be delightful to
have his chief attention during his stay
at his home.
He thought she did look very beau- .
tiful as he sat, befOre service, looking
on the older faces ; but there was:a
fairer one than hers, he fancied, as he
saw the sweet face of Alice May, with
the half closed eyes, and long, golden
edged lashes, shadowing tho pale cheek:
Ho carried in his bosom .a curl, like
the one nestling so softly by her temple,
and-it was a talisman, keeping.' him
from the enchantment of other eyes. ,
When the service was closed, Ben
was thronged about by old, familiar
faces—they had so much to say, so
many things to speak of,. so much joy
to express at his safe return, that it
well nigh' bewildered him. It was
very pleasant
old
be so warmly we_l-.
cowed by old friends—delightful to
chat of by-gones, and indeed it was a
Sabbath of joy to Ben Bolt.
Sweet Alice I Ah, how long and
weary the time had been to her; Some
bates her heart died within her as shO
bought of the broad ocean. But
when she looked at Bon so shyly that
morning, and saw how hanFlso . me he
had grown, a heart sickness came over
her,, and the sunshine fell but dimly at
her feet. She knew she had hidden
awayin the depths of her pure .heart,
a wild early love, s.iid . she strove to put
it from ker.; would ..he think oilier
now? So it was no .. wonder that she
should slip her slender hand iu her
mother's and steal away from the. joy
ous throng. :
It was Sabbath' ere—one of these
balmy mooi fight evenings ofthe young
summer.. Mrs. May had gone to, ria'it
a sick neighbor; and' Alice sat by the
window with' the:Bible open, and-her
slenAer white fingers - pointing tothe
word's' falling so musically from' 'her
‘And then; shall be" ne'rright there;
and they need . no candle; neither light
of the'aulfr.fer - tlie Levi 'God give*
th'ent end; they 'shall 'reign' for
ever and ever."
.. :
-She, lookedii-vg,trentialingi In. the,
moonlight for , closi+ behind. hdk knelt
the manly form of Ben Bolt. There
MEM
NAA ,43/41 sWebt su*yorlovcsaiidilope;
not - ,thelesi sweet for beiitgl the .
gunge' of every human tieait, slid the
tiny' hands ofAlice were folded initis.as
she said very ,low. and sweetly •
! , If I live, Bowan& five yearg more
have passed,. and you -return' ter the
uremia
did Was never:
finished.:.._ " ' •
,
• So 'they. :plighted , their troth, that
calm; holy Sabbath •&ening ; and the
„buOyant heart of Bed,. in :its gushing
sunniness, pictured. r adiant hopes of
the future. He was so 'young and full
of vitality—every pulse' of his heart
was beating gladly; W and the coming .
five years wore more precious to him
than all thashad passed.
"If we both live,Ben, 'God will have.
us in hid holy keeping," she said in •
'answer to his partial - Swotdi ; but as
he pressedliei convulsively tn hiabeat
ing heart,. he '
"God will•be• Very merciful to' those
.who.leve so dearly as oarsalvea, Alice,
darling." .
• She .knew it: but shokneili also, that
God. did not always hear the prayer
Sallingfronahopeful lips.: Sweet Alice !
Adown the future Ben looked "tram-'
hlingly,•and as he saw her fragile forni
and.. spiritual face, with- white lilies
braided in the' soft, brown hair, his'
eyes .grew dim • with tears, for he
knew not if it• was it- bridal or
for close beside the altar was tha grave
yard.
They were not wanting who wonder
ed at Ben Bolt's choice, and thought
it was'strange he should take Alice in
preference to the 'fairest and wealthi
est. Some held •their• heads
when theT.passed her, but her 'heart
waton.the blue waters and she heed
ed it not. • ,
How. she watched the days in their
passing.. She noticed how the summer
waned—how the fields of waving grain
grew yellow in the sunlight—she heard
the glad voices of the reapers ; and
when the leaves 'viere..falling, the"
children went nut-gathering in 'the
woods ; when-the noiseless snow fell,
and lay on the. hill-side as in olden
days, until the genial spring-tide melt
ed it away, and the violets and hare:
bolls dotted the fields. So passed the
year. She was growing fairer- and
more beautiful—too brilliant for any
thing earthly. Once she knelt' at the
altar in the little church . and listened
to the words uniting her with the
Savior's redeemed on earth; but it
was only an outward form, for her
heart had long been in thei keeping of
the angels.' Again she watched the
waning of the summer days, and when
the soft wind swept over the silvery
rye-fields, she thought of the ocean
afar, with its broad waves. All through
the winter day she grew more spiritu
al in her beauty, and the slender white
hands wore often folded on her breast,
and'ihe prayed fer those 'who would
soon he left desolate, for she knew she
was dying.
It did not startle her, for she felt
long ago 'that - the fair green earth
would hold her pulikdess heart, ere it
had left the cloister of girlhood. Life
' was sweet and beautiful, yet in her
sinlessness death had no agony, save
her sorrow for those left in loneliness.
It was only a Very little way : to the
land of rest, and her feet had never .
grown weary ; yet she longed to look
once more upon - the flowers; and
have them braided in -heir hair; and
so she lingered' till -the voice of spring
waSbeatd the hill tops.
One morning,:, hen 'Abp. - viewises
hands were gathering baCk' the misty
curtains of the night, and the stars:
grew dim in the glory of , early . morn,
sweet Alice stood on the threshold of
P'aitiliSe,"and,the:golden gates Wilsre
opened to gm fair, ,meekiirl. There
trend:lle& on her lips It . prayer :and a.
blessing.for Ben Belt anil , her mother,.--
givitikradianC.e to.the fair. deed 'fain,
a liidigil!ndae 4 ff.ll;*a
hair. . .•
I The-church bell chimed.' softly. , to
the feik Yeas earth had'''claimeethe.
starnleis'aiiuf of Alice May, as they
‘,r ;7, iVi.v'.;l,a'Ciltv"..)
ME
ENE
bronght• tke .Coffid ht thoptittleifelli •
chnhch., .4.eiarbsaitiftd !shoo loctiste;
kilter white burial , robe.too
aWeet far death* --feci hely, bad &jar:
not, hese sternum - Win beyond: • (Lisp:,
behiwdher' ; stood the friends .orkese
girlhood,. gazing oathat yeitugtfaellasi.
if they would. fain call tuir back 'to Ear:
and its swealova.
_So thaylaid Melt
Alice to sleep in the. old, .clinrckyardo
and those who looked coldly onhar teek
'to their • sorrowing hearts sweet%
memory of the early dead. , • .
There was agony-too deep.for utter -4 •
ance, when the strong; ardent-hearted i!
man whose guiding atm. had been the -
lore fo that sweat girlJearne back
find the cottage hotan desolate, .and .
Alice sleeping beneath a 'gray- stets
:in the churchyard: - . -
But .Grtia., and time are? merciful
and as/ears passed away, he came t.) ,-
think. of her as garlanded in the golden
fruitagb of Edenlanol.
This was the memory that his fritud
sang of as they satin the summer twit
light, years afterward; and- uakio. of
the faces that had" linunered and fsdod
in their early patliway. Now, of . till
chi) ;glad'hearts .childheed. had clustcr
ea together, Only . they two
Some Slept, in the' jungle . depths; cult..,
era in the forest shade, and beneitti'
the waving prairie giAss: . . S'one ther4 ti
were who slept peacefully in the greisis
old church yard; and ainong these ch.,'
fairest and the best Was "sweet
Al I he could never have £orgntis a:
that.
Ho had heard from the lips -of that.:
desolate mother, ere she Went to steei:
beside her darling, how patient 114.1"
holy Alice had grown ; bow she Itire. ) .
passed calinly away in her' saint : lll:a' .
beauty, leaving messages that a fen;..:
yearning heart could only dictate:
Down in his heart,
.deeper than . any ,
other earthly being, he had lain thotu.
cherishing titer beauty and greenne.,,.. -
Many a time had. the 'spirit feral
sweat Alice risembefore his eyes in ...a
the beauty of that far off land he u re ,
but too dimly; and ho kne 'ff; 114
that thing called life had.morged.ier:a
immortality, he should meet her ag.un
Years atterward r they laid Beni; .
to sleep by the side of sweet Alice.
Newark, N. J. 1855.
The Methodists have been waren
by a public meeting in .Plattsbur:.
Mu., not • to :hold a camp meeting .4
Clinton county. • The slavoCracythii,.s
are ." down on religion," and dna's
seem to agree with Rev. Shannon, an.o -
a few others who disgrace their
fession of Christianity, that the
sanctions the curse of American slave.
ry.—Pittsburg Dispatch.
To triumph . over our painions,ii of,
all conquests ;tho moat glorious..
THE TABLES Ttomen.—There
a time.= when we were- indebied -
Europe for a portion of our fi
machinery, and foreigners regard.;./
American ingenuity as at its clim
in the production of wooden: nutria ~.;14
and clothes 'pins. Latterly we
astonished them with our patent ru
ern add six-shooters ; and at last they'
have come
. to` acknowledge that un:i ,
mechanics ae. entitled 'to rank wit a,
the best of their own. further
lustration may now be given. Yei r ! .
terday a sloop arrived fit thie hail%
bringing from Jorge . ); Shore forty tofrVe
of iron machinery, constructed fort
in Scotland ; and 'the! Rom ie now
being 'shipped direct , to :Waage:er r
is designed for, the. manufacture
. 4
India-rubber goods, aprocessin.whis4,
Amer ice is - Ahead of the world.-7--.Tuer,.
We blame Fortune for not riskier
us;.whereas, in timay,cases the fnulc
lies at our own door in Joins -troth _ in
ntite.her - .'!
The choicest spleasares'-of
'within the range of 'moderation.
•••• • • • ' ••••
us6' the ~ieannndti~ut to G'',d'fi
thti
liiii
.' 'f Wiz's
,v. , i , ..; , :t. ...,:t... ,3
.._ .i ,, , 1.3.iit4
meal
Sot'
/11E3
-.~~ad
=SEM