THE BRADFORD REPORTER. O€ MLUR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. A.: Thursday Morning, June 7, 1860. Stlttltb sbi. NO NIGHT IN HEAVEN. „ r THOMAS BAFFLES, P-P-, LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND. ~ Vm i there .shall be no night there."-REV. xxi. 5. No night shall be in heaven—no gathering gloom, Shall o'er that glorious landscape ever come. No tears shall fall in sadness o'er those flowers That breathe their fragrance through celestial bowers. No ni"ht shall be in heaven—no dreadful hour Of mental darkness, or the tempter's power. V tos- those skies no envious cloud shall roll, To dhn the sunlight of the enraptured soul. No night shall be in heaven. Forbid to sleep, These eves no more their mournful vigils keep : Their fountains dried— tlieir tears all wiped away ; They gaze uuthizzkd on eternal day. No night shall he iu heaven-no sorrow's reign- No secret anguish—no corporal pain No shivering limbs —no burning fever there No soul's eclipse—no winter of despair. No night shall he in heaven—but endless noon : No fast declining sun or waning moon : Hut there the Lamb shall yield perpetual light, 'Mid pastures green, and waters ever bright. No night sbali he in heaven—no darkened room, No bed of death or silence of the tomb ; But breezes ever fresh with love and truth, Shall brace the frame with an immortal youth. No night -hull he in heaven ! But night is here— The night of sorrow—and the night of fear, i mouru the ills that now my steps attend, And ,-hri.ik from others that may yet impend So night shall be in heaven 1 Oh, had I faith To rest in what the faithful Witness safth— TL.it faith should make these hideous phantoms flee. And leave no night, hencefort i, on earth to me. §flcf tc it Calt. [From the Atlantic Monthly.] CI KG IT M STANCE. She kail remained, during all that day, with a sick neighbor,—those eastern wilds of Maine iu that epoch frequently making neighbors ami miles synonymous,—and so busy had she been with care and sympathy that she dfd not nt first observe the approaching night. But finally the level rays, reddening the snow, threw their gleam upon the wall, and, hastily donning clonk and hood, she bade her friends farewell and sallied forth on her return.— Home lay some three miles distant, across a copse, a meadow, and a piece of woods, —the woods being a fringe ou the skirts of the for ests that stretch far away into the North.— That home was one of a dozen log-houses ly ing a few furlongs apart from each other, with tlieir half-cleared demesnes separating them-at the rear from a wilderness untrodden save by sicalthy native or deadly panther tribes. She was in a nowise exalted frame of spirit, —oh the contrary, rather depressed by the />■;//. she bad witnessed and the fatigue she had endured ; but in certain temperaments such a condition throws open the mental pore-, so to ?peuk, and renders one receptive of every influ ence. Through the little copse she walked slowly, with her cloak folded about her, ling ering to imbibe the sense of shelter, the sunset filtered in purple through the mi.it of woven spray and twig, the companionship of growth nut sufficiently dense to baud against her the sweet home feeling of a young and tender win try wood. It was therefore just on the edge o! evening that she emerged from the place and began to cross the meadow-land. At one hand lay the forest to which her path wound ; at the other the evening star hung over a tide ot failing orange that slowly slipped down the eirth's broad side to sadden other hemispheres with sweet regret. Walking rapidly now, and with her eyes wide-open, she distinctly saw in the air before her what was not there a mo ment ago, a winding-sheet,—cold, white, and ghastly, waved by the likeness of four wan hinds,- that ro£e with a long inflation nnd fell iii rigid folds, with a voice, shaping itself from the hollowness above, spectral and mel ancholy, sighed,—" The Lord have mercy on the people 1" Three times the sheet with its corpse-covering outline waved beneath the pale hands, and the voice, awful in its solemn and mysterious depth, sighed, " The Lord have mercy on the people 1" Then all was gone, the place was clear again, the gray sky was obstructed by no deathly blot ; she looked ' about her, shook her shoulders decidedly, and pulling.on her hood, went forward once more. She might have been a little frightened by such au apparition, if she had led a life of ess reality than frontier settlers are apt to ead ; but dealing with hard fact does not en gender a flimsy habit of mind,and this woman -a as too sincere and earnest in her character, and too happy in her situation, to be thrown y antagonism merely upon superstitious fan cms ami chimeras 0 f the second sight. She did not even believe herself subject to halluci nuii.jut smiled simply, a little vexed that ter thought could have framed such a glam tll !"in the day s occurrences, and not sorry to Lit the bough of the warder of the woods n enter and disappear in their sombre path, i k J? 6 , i , ' ma ginative, she would have iln" 1 ' . 1 Qt rst ste P '"l° a region whose th-'it s ',? 1 Al i' " " ot v ' s ' on ary ; but I Suppose won't l ' e a cb " d a t home bah !' !?"! lUcr . lbat propensity in the most she went i ' <o ' b r ' l ' n 8 bit of spicy birch, a ta> i n ff* ow an( l then she came to off A' i W | <re l l ie trees bad been partially fell 'MAor<! ® c foil nd that the lingering twi 3oleleXPnUe,i^ilhat P ccu!iar arul P cr " U\?o-V-' iri r(T jT i s °tnetimes sheathes before'-r't . C 8 or ver y many hours ibadi \ , au T a ' , s ddealy, a swift ttntlnrt'ii lae fabulous flying-dragon, & wW 1 lh f air w< ™ *'■ "-i shi It was th!t"-n U u y BClzed aild borue aloft.— Eerncniii i beast—the most savage and aud subtle and fearless of cur latt PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. tudes—known by huntirs as the Indian Devil, and he held her in his clutches on the broad floor of a swinging fir-bough. Ilis long sharp claws were caught iu her clothing, he worried them sagaciously a little, theu, finding that ineffectual to free them, he commen ced licking; her bare white arm with his rasping tongue and pouring over her the wide streams of his hot, fetid breath. So quick had this flashing action been that the woman had had no time for alarm ; moreover, she was not of the screaming kiud : but now, as she felt him endeavoring to disentangle his claws, and the horrid seusc of her fate smote her, and she saw instinctively the fierce plunge of those weapons, the long strips of living flesh torn from her bones, the agonv, the quivering disgust, itself a worse agony,—while by her side, and holding her in his great lithe embrace, the monster crouched, his white tusks whetting and gnashing, his eyes glaring through all the darkness like balls of red fire, —a shriek, that rang in every forest hollow, that startled every winter-housed thing, that stirred and awoke the least needle of the tasselled pines, tore through her lips. A moment afterward, the beast left the arm, once white, now crimson, and looked up alertly. She did not think at this instant to call up on God. She called upon her husband. It seemed to her that she had but one friend in the world ; that was he ; and again the cry, loud, clear, prolonged echoed through the woods. It was not the shriek that disturbed the creatnre at his relish ; he was not born in the woods to be scared by an owl, you know ; what theu ! It must have been the echo, most musical, most resonant, repeated and yet re peated, dying with long sighs of sweet sound, vibrated from rock to river and back again, from depth to depth of cave and cliff. Her thought flew after it ; she knew, that, even if her husband heard it, he yet could not reach her in time ; she saw that while the beast listened he would uot gnaw,—and this she flit directly, when the rough, sharp, and multipli ed stings of Lis tongue retouched her arm.— ' Again her lips opened by instinct, but the ! sound that issued thence came by reason.— | She had heard that music charmed wild beasts, —just this point between life and death inten sified every faculty,—aud when she opened | her lips the third time, it was uot for shriek ing, biG for singing. A little thread of melody stole out, a rill of tremulous motion ; it was the cradle-song tviih which she rocked her baby ; —how co.-.ld she sing that? And then she remembered the baby sleeping rosily on the long settee be fore the fire, —the father cleaning his gun, with one foot on the green wooden rundle, — the merry light from the chimney dancing out and through the room, 0:1 the rafters of the ceiling with their tassels of onions and herbs, on the log walls painted with lichens and fes tooned with apples, on the king's arm slung across the shelf with the old pirate's-cutlass, on the snow-pile of the bed, and on the great brass clock, —dancing, too, and lingering on the baby, with bis fringed gentian eyes, bis chubby fists clenched ou the pillow, and bis tine breezy hair fanning with the motion of his father's foot. All this struck her in one, and made a sob of her breath, and she ceased. Immediately the long red tongue was thrust : forth again. Before it touched, a song sprang ; to her lips, a wild sea-song, such as sonic siilor might be singing far out on the blue water that night, the shrouds whistling with frost and the sheets glued in ice,—a song with the wind in its burden and the spray in its chorns. The monster raisecl his head and flared the fiery eyeballs upon her, then fretted the im pri.soued claws a moment and was quiet : only the breath like the vapor from some hell pit still swathed her. Her voice, at first faint and fearful, gradually lost its quaver, grew under her control and subject to her modula tion ; it rose on long swel's, it fell in subtle cadences, now and then in tones pealed out like bells from distant belfries on fresh sono rous mornings. She sung the song through, and, wondering lest his name of Indian Devil were not his true name, aud if he would not detect her, she repeated it. Once or twice now, indeed, the beast stirred uneasily, turned and made the bough sway at his movement. — As she ended, he snapped his jaws together, and tore away the fettered member, curling it under him with a snarl, —when she burst into the gayest reel that ever answered a fiddle bow. llow many a time She had heard her husband play it ou the homely fiddle made by himsilf from birch and cherry-wood ! how many a time she had seen it deuced on the floor of their one room, to the patter of wood en clogs and the rustle of homespun pettieoat ! how many a time she had danced it herself ! and did she not remember once, as they join ed cln.sp.s for right-hands-round, how it had lent its gay, bright measure to her life ? And here she was singing it alone, in the forest, at midnight, to a wild beast ! As she seut her voice trilling up and down its quick oscillations between joy and pain, the creature who grasp ed her uncurled his paw and scratched the bark from the bough ; she must vary the spell ; and her voice spun leaping along the projecting points of tune of a hornpipe. Stiil singing, she felt herself twisted about with a low growl and a lifting of the red lip from the glittering teeth; she broke the hornpipe's thread, and commenced unraveling a lighter, livelier thing, an Irish jig. Up and down and round about her voice flew, the beast threw back his head so that the diabolical face front ed Iters, and the torrent of his breath prepar ed her for his feast as the anaconda slimes his prey. Frantically she darted from tune to tune ; his restless movements followed her.— She tired herself with dancing and vivid na tional airs, growing feverish and singing spas modically as she felt her horrid tomb yawning wider. Touching in this manner all the slo gan and keen clau cries, the beast moved again, but only to lay the disengaged paw across her with heavy satisfaction. She did not dare to pause ; through the clear cold air, the frosty starlight, she fang. If there were yet any tremor in the tone, it wa3 not fear, — she had learned the secret of sound at last ; MK could it be chill,— far too high a fervor • " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." throbbed her pulses ; it was nothing but the thought of the log-house and of what might be passing within it, She fancied the baby stirring in his sleep and moving his pretty lips, —her husband rising and opening the door, lookiug out after her, and wondering at her absence. She fancied the light pouring through the chink and theu shut in again with all the safety and comfort and joy, her husband tak ing down the fiddle e.ud playing lightly wjth his head inclined, playing while she sang, while she sang for her life to an Indian Devil.— Thfin she knew he was fumbling for and find ing some shining fragment and scoring it down the yellowing hair, and unconsciously her voice forsook the wild war-tunes aud drifted into the half-gay, haif-melancholy Rosin the Bow. Suddenly she woke pierced with a pang, and the daggered tooth penetrating her flesh ; dreaming of safety, she had ceased singing and lost it. The beast had regained the use of all his limbs, and now, standing and raising his back, bristling and foaming, with sounds that would have been like hisses but for their deep and fearful sonority, he withdrew step by step toward the trunk of the tree, still with his flaming balls upon her. She was ail at once free, on one of the boughs, twenty feet from the ground. She did not measure the distance, but? rose to drop herself down, careless of any death, so that it were not this. Instantly, as if he scanned her thoughts, the creature bouuded forward with a yell and caught her again in his dreadful hold. It might be that he was not greatly famished ; for, us she suddenly flung up her voice again, he settled himself composedly on the bough, still clasping her with invincible pressure to his rough, ravenous breast, and listening in a fascination to the sad. strange XJ-la-lu that now moaned forth in loud, hollow tones above him. He half-opened his eyes, and sleep ly re-opened and shut them again. What rending pains were closest hand ! Death ! and what a death ! worse than any other that is to be named ! Water, be it cold or warm, that whid) buoys up blue ice-fields, or which bathes tropical coasts with currents of balmy bliss, is yet a gentlo conqueror, kis ses as it kills, and draws you down pentlv thiough darkening fathoms to its heart. Death at the sword is tiie festival of trumpet aud bugle and banner, with glory ringing out around you and distant hearts thrilling through yours. No gnawing disease can bring such hideous end as this ; for that is a fiend bred of your own flesh, and this—is it a fiend, this living lump of appetites ? What dread comes with the thought of perishing in flames ! but fire, let it leap and hiss never so hotly, is some thing too remote, too alien, to inspire 11s with such loathly horror as a wild beast ; if it have a life, that life is too utterly beyond our com prehension. Fire is not half ourselves ; as it devours, arouses neither hatred nor disgust; is not to be known by the strength of our lower natures let loose ; does not drip our blood iu to our faces from foaming chaps, nor mouth nor snarl above us with vitality. Let us be ended by fire, and we are ashes, for the winds to bear, the leaves to cover ; let us be ended by wild beasts, and the base, cursed thing howls with 11s forever through the forest. AH this she felt as she charmed hira, and what force it lent to her song God knows. If her voice should fail ! If the damp and cold should give her any fatal hoarseness! If all the sil ent powers of the forest did not conspire to help her ! The dark, hollow night rose indif ferently over her; the wide, cold air breathed rudely past her, lifted her wet hair and blew it down again ; the great boughs swung with a ponderous strength, uow and then clashed their iron lengths together and shook off a sparkle of icy spears or some long-lain weight of snow from their heavy shadows. The green depths were utterly cold and silent and stern. These bcau'iful haunts that all the summer were hers and rejoiced to share with her their bounty, these heavens that had yielded their largess, these stems that had thrust their blos soms into her hands, all these ftiends of three moons ago forgot her now and knew her no longer. Feeling her desolation, wild, melancholy, forsaken songs rose thereon from that fright ful amie,—weeping, wailing tunes, that sob among the people from age to age, and over flow with otherwise unexpressed sadness, —all rude, mournful ballads, —old tearful strains, that Shakspeare heard the vagrants sing, aud that rise and fall like the wind and tide, — saili r-songs, to be heard only in lone mid watches beneath the moon and stars, —ghast- ly rhyming romances, such as that famous oue of the " Lady Margaret," when " She slipped ou her gown of green A piece below the knee, — And 'twas all a long, cold winter's night And a dead corse followed she." Still the beast lay with closed eyes, yet never relaxing his grasp. Once a half-whine of enjoyment escaped him, —he fawned his fearful head upon her ; once he scored her check with his tongue: savage caresses that huit like wounds. llow weary she was I and yet how terribly awake ! llow fuller and fuller of dismay grew the knowledge that she was only prolonging her anguish and playing with death ! llow appaling the thought that with her voice ceased her existence 1 Yet she could uot sing forever ; her throat was dry and hard ; her very breath was a pain ; her mouth was hotter than any desert-worn pilgrim's ; —if she conld but drop upon her burning tougue one atom of the ice that glit tered about her !—but both of her arms were pinioned in the giant's vice. She remembered the winding-sheet, and for the first time in her life shivered with spiritual fear. Was it hers? She asked herself, as she sang, what sins she had committed, what life she had led, to find her punishment so soon and in these pangs,— and then she sought eagerly for some reason why her husband was not up and abroad to find her. lie failed her,-—her one sole hope in life ; and withont being aware of it, her voice forsook tho songs of suffering and sor row for old Covenanting hymns,—hymns with which her mother had lulled her, which the class-leader pitched in the chimney-corners,— gr&txl and sweet Methodist hymns, brimming with melody and with all fantastics involutions of tune to suit that ecstatic worship,—hymns full of the beauty of holiness, steadfast, rely ing, sauctified by the salvation they had lent to those in worse extremity than hers, —for they had found themselves in the grasp of hell, while she was but in the jaws of death. Ont of this strange music, peculiar to one charac ter of faith, and than which there is none more beautiful in its degree nor owning a more potent sway of sound, her voice soared into the glorified chants of churches. What to her was death by cold or famine or wild beasts ? "Though He.slay me, yet will I trnstin Him,'' she sang. High and clear through the firore fair night, the level moonbeams splintering in the wood, the scarce gliuts of stars in the shadowy roof of branches, these sacred an thems rose, — rose as a hope from despair, as some snowy spray of flower-bells from blackest mould. Was she not in God's hands 1 Did not the worlO swing at His will ? If this were in His great plan of providence, was it not best, and should she not accept it ? " He is the Lord our God ; His judgments are in all the earth." Ob, sublitne faith of oar fathers, where ut ter self sacrifice alone was true love, the fra grance of whose unrequired subjection was pleasant as that of golden ceusers swung in purple-vapored chancels 1 Never ceasing in the rhythm of her thoughts, articulated in music as they thronged, the memory of her first communion flashed over her. Agaiu she was in that distant place on that sweet spring morning. Again the con gregation rustled out, and the few remained, and she trembled to find herself among them. How well she remembered the devout, qniet faces, too accustomed to the sacred feast to glow with their inner joy ! how well the snowy linen at the altar, the silver vessels slowly and silently shifting ! and as the cup approached and passed, how the sense of delicious perfume stole in and heightened the transport of her prayer, and she had seemed, looking up through the windows where the sky soared blue in con stant freshness, to feel all heaven'sbalmsdrip piug from the portals, and to scent the lilies of eternal peace ! Perhaps another would not have felt so much ecstasy as satisfaction on that occasion ; but it is a true, if a later disciple, who has said, " The Lord bestoweth his blessings there, where lie fiadeth the ves sels empty." " And does it need the walls of a church to renew my communion ?" she ask ed. " Does not every moment stand a temple four-square to God ? And in that morning, with its buoyant sunlight, was I any dearer to the Heart of the World than now 1" My be loved is mine, and I am his," she sang over and over agaiu, with all varied inflection and profuse tune. How gently a'l the winter wrapt things bent toward her then 1 into what relation with her had they grown 1 how this common dependence was the spell of their in tiraacy 1 how at one with Nature had she be come ! how all the night and the silence and the forest seemed to hold its breath, and to send its soul up to God in her singing 1 It was no longer defpondency, that siuging. It was neither prayer nor petition. She had left imploring, " How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord ?" " Lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death !" " Poh in death there is no remembrance of thee —with countless other such fragments of supplication. She cried rather, " Y'ea, though I walk through the val ley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thon art with me ; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort ttte —and lingered, and repeated, and sang again, " I shall be satis fied, when I awake, with thy likeness." Then she thought of the Great De'liverance, when he drew her up. out of many waters, and the flashing old psalm pealed forth trinmphatit ly " The Lord descended from above, and bow'd the heavens hie : And underneate his feet lie cast the darknesse ot the .skie. On cherubs and cherubinß fu'ly royally he road : And on the wings of all the winds came flying all abroad." She forgot how recently, and with what a strange pity for her own shapeless form that was to be, she had quaintly sung,— " Oh lovely appearance of death ! What sight upon earth is so fair ? Not ail the gay pageants that breathe Can with a dead body compare!"' She remembered instead, —" In thy presence is fulness of joy ; ~at thy right hand there arc pleasures forevermore and, " God will re deem my soul from the power of the grave : for he shall receive mc " He will swallow up death in victory." Not once now did she say, " Lord, how long wilt thou look on ? res cue my soul .from their destructions, my darl ing from the lions,'' —for she knew that "the young lions roar after their prey and seek their meat from God." " O Lord, thou preservest man and beast!" she said. She had no comfort or consolation in this season, such as sustained the Christian mar tyrs in the amphitheatre. She was not dying for her faith ; there were no palms in heaven for her to wave ; but how many a time had she declared, —I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell iu the tents of wickeduess !" And as the broad rays here and there broke through the dense covert of shade and lay in rivers of lustre on crystal sheathing and frozen fretting of trunk and limb and on the great Spaces of refraction they budded up visibly that house, the shining city on the hill, and singiog, " Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion, on the sides of the North, the city of the Great King," her vision climbed to that higher picture where the angel shows the daz zling thing, the holy Jerusalem descending out of heaven from God, with its splendid battle ments aud gates of pearls, and its foundations, the eleventh a jacinth, the twelfth an amethyst, —with its great white throne, and the rain bow round about it, iu sight like unto an em erald :—" And there shall be no night there, —for the Lord God giveth them light," she sang. What whisper of dawn now rustled through the wilderness? How the night was passing! And still the beast crouched the bough, changing only the posture of his head, that again he might command her with those charm ed eyes ; —half their fire was goue ; she could almost have released herself from hischstody; yet, had she stirred, no oue knows what ma levolent instinct might have dominated auew. But of that she did not dream ; long ago stripped of any expectation, she was experi encing in her divine raptnre how mystically true it is that " he that dwelletb in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." Slow clarion cries now wound ffiom the dis tance as the cocks caught the intelligence of day and re echoed it faintly from farm to farm, —-sleepy sentinels of night, sounding the foe's invasion, and translating that dim intuition to ringing notes of warning. Still she chanted on. A remote crash of brushwood told of some other beast on his depredations, or some night-belated traveller groping his way through the narrow path. Still she chanted on. The far, faint echoes of the chanticleers died into distance, —the crashing of the branches grew nearer. Xo wild beast that, but a man's step, —a man's form in the moonlight, Stalwart and strong,—on one arm slept a little child, in the other hand he held his gun. Still she chanted on. Perhaps, when her husband last looked forth, he was half ashamed to find what a fear he felt for her. He knew she would nev er leave the child so long but for some direst need, —and yet he may have laughed at him self, as he lifted and wrapped it with awkward care, and, loading his gun and strapping on his horn, opened the door again and closed it behind him, going out and plunging into the dnrkness and dangers of the forest. He was more singularly alarmed than he would have been willing to acknowledge ; cs he bad sat with his bow hovering over the strings, ho had half believed to hear her voice mingling gay ly with the instrument, till he pansed and list ened if she were not about to lift the latch and enter. As he drew nearer the heart of the forest, that intimation of melody seemed to grow more actual, to tuke body and breath, to come aud go On long swells and ebbs of the night-breeze, to increase with tune and words, till a strange, shrill singing grew even clearer, and, as he stepped into an open space of moon beams, tar up in the branches, rocked by the wind, and singing, "llow beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of hiin that bringetb good tidings, that publisheth peace," he saw his wife, —Tiis wife, —but, great God in heaveu! how i Some mad exclamation escaped him, without diverting her. The child knew the singing voice, though never heard before in that unearthly key, and turned toward it through the veiling dreams. With a celerity almost instantaneous, it lay, in the twinkling of an eye, on the ground at the father's feet, while his gun was raised to his shoulder and levelled at the monster covering his wife with shaggy form and flaming gaze,—his wife so ghastly white, so rigid, so stained with blood, her eyes so fixedly bent above, and her lips, that had indurated into the chiselled pallor of marble, parted only with that flood of solemn song. I do not know if it were the mother-instinct that fdr a moment lowered her eyes,—those eyes, so lately riveted on heaven, now sudden ly seeing all life-long bliss possible. A thrill of joy pierced and shivered through her like a weapon, her voice trembled in its course, her glance lest its steady strength, fever-flushes chased each other over her face, yet the never once ceased chanting. She Was quite aware, that, if her husband shot now, the ball must pierce her body before reaching any vital part of the beast, —and yet better that death, by his hand, than the other. But this her hus band also knew, and he remained motionless, just covering the creature with the sight. He dared not fire lest some woutid not mortal should break the spell exercised by her voice, and the beast, enraged with pain, should rend ner in atoms; moreover, the light was too un certain for his aim. So he waited. Now aud then he examiued his gun to see if the damp were injuring its charge, now and then he wiped the great drops from his forehead.— Again the cocks crowed with the passing hour —the last time they were heard on that night. Cheerful home sound then, how full of safety and all comfort and rest it seemed ! what sweet morning incidents of sparkling fire and sunshine, of gay household bustle, shining dresser, and cooing baby, of streaming cattle in the yard, and brimming milk-pails at the door ! what pleasant voices ! what laughter ! what security ! and here - Now, as she sang on in the slow, endless, infinite moments, the fervent vision of God's peace was gone. Just us the grave had lost its sting, she was sualched back again into the arms of earthly hope. In vain she tried to sing, "There remaineth a rest for the people of God," —her eyes trembled on her husband's, and she could think only of him, and of the child, and of happiness that yet might be, but with what a dreadful gulf of doubt between ! She shuddered now in suspense ; all calm for sook her ; she was tortured with dissolving heats or froren with'icy blasts ; her face con tracted, growing small and pinched ; her voice was hoarse and sharp,—every tone cut like a knife, —the notes became heavy to lift, with held by some hostile pressure,—impossible.— One gasp, a convulsive effort, and there was silence, —she had lost her voice. The beast made a sluggish movement, — stretched and fawned like one awaking,— then, as if he would have yet more of the en chantment, Stirred her slightly with his mnz2le. As he did so, a sidelong hint of the man stand ing below with the raised gun smote him ; he sprung round furiously, and seizing his prey, was about to leap into some unknown airy den of the topmost branches uow waving to the slow dawn. The late moon had rounded through the sky so that her gleam at last fell full upon the bough with fairy frosting; the wintry morning light did not yet penetrate the gloom.* The woman, suspended in mid air an an instant, cast only one agonized glance beneath, —but across and through it, ere the lids could fall, shot a withering 6heet of flame, —a riflocrack, half beard, was lost in the ter- vol,. XXI. —NO. 1. rible yell of desperation that bounded after it and filled her ears with savage echoes, and iu the wide arc of some eternal descent she was falling ; —but the beast fell uuder her. I thiuk that the momeut following must have been too sacred for n, and perhaps the three have no Special interest again till they issue from the shadows of the wilderness upon the white hills that skirt their home. The father carries the child hushed again into slumber.the mother follows with no such feeble step as might be anticipated,—and as they slowly climb the stefep under the clear gray sky and the paling morning star, she stops to gather a spray of the red rose berries or a feathery raft of dead grasses for the chimney-piece of the log-house, or a handful of brown ones for tho child's play,—and of these quiet, happy folk you would scarcely dream how lately they had stolen from under the bauuer and encampment of the great King Death. The husband pro ceeds a step or two iu advance ; the wife ling ers over a singular foot-print in the sr.ow,stoops and examines it, then look 3 op with a hurried word. Her husband stands alone on the hill, his arms folded across the babe, his gun fall en.—stands defined against the pallid sky lika a bronze. What is there in their home, lying below and yellowing in the light, to fix hint with such a stare ? She springs to his side. There is no home there. The Tog house, the barn?, the neighboring farms, the fences, are all blotted out and mingled in one smoking ru : u. Desola ion and death were indeed therei and beneficence and life io the forest. Toma hawk and scalping knife, descending during that Light, had left behind them only this work of their accomplished hatred and one subtle foot-print in the snow. For the rest, —the world was all before them where to choose. ECONOMY IN THE HOUSEHOLD. —Xo young woman ought to feel herself qualified to be come a wife, until she is silre she understands how to do the most that can be done with her husband's money. The management of house hold is not a thing to be properly and safely entrusted to hireling hands. A servant is a broken reed for the head of a family to leaii upon. There are a thousand little ways in which mouey must be expended, in which real shrewdness and enterprise are requisite in order to use it to be best advantage ; and there ara a thousand other ways of saving money, open only to those who have studied aright the art of economy. The Turkish proverb has it.that " a prudent woman is a miue of jewels," and like many other Orieutal sayings, this is beau tiful for the truth it embodies. A wasteful housekeeper not only actually robs those for whom she undertakes to manage, of the com forts it is her duty to provide for them, but keeps a husband head over ears in debt, and makes the domestic life of a poor man continu al series of experiments in shinuing it from one day to the next,; in keeping the stomach full thotigh the purse be empty. XATCRE'S SONG. —Heaven singeth evermore. Before the throne of Hod, angels and redeem ed sa'ats extol his name. Aud this world is singing too ; sometimes With the loud noise of the rolling thunder, of the boiling sea, of tho dashing cataract and the lowing cattle; and often wth that still, solemn harmony, which floweth from the vast creation, when in its silence it praiscth God. Such is the song which gushes in silence from the mountain lifting its head from the sky, covering its face sometimes with the wings of the mist, and trt other times unveiling its Snow-white brow before its Maker and reflecting back his Sunshine gratefully thanking him for the light which it has beeit made to glisten, aud for the gladness of which it is the solitary spectator, as in its graudcur it looks down upOa the laughing valleys. Tho tune to which heaven and earth are set are the same. In hearten they sing, "The Lord be exalted ; let his name be magnified forever. And the earth singeth the same, "Great art thou in thy work, O Lord ! and unto tnee be glory.'' editor in Maine has never been known to drink any water. He says he never heard water was used as a general remedy, but once—in the time of iXoah—when it killed m re than it cured. teaT" " 1 am certaiu wife that I am right and that you are wrong—l'll bet my ears on it." " Indeed, husband, yoti sbouldu't carry bet ting to such extreme lengths." We once heard of a rich man, who was badly injured by being run over. "It isn't the accidentsaid he, "that I mind: that isn't the thing, but the idea of being rnn over by an infernal swill-cart makes me mad." The sentence, " Richard's himself again," was not written by Shakspeare. It is to be found in the " Acting Copy " of Rich ard 111., said to have been prepared by Colly Ciber. It must be a good deal of trouble far people to be always exhibiting ill-nature, and they dont make any thing by it. Why be such fools as to work for nothing. JPaf" Knowledge will not be acquired with out pains and application. It is troublesome and deep digging far pure waters ; but when you Once come to the springs, they rise up and meet yon. An exchange says lead is an animal production, because it is found in " pigs." By taking revenge a man is but even with his enemy ; bat in passing it over he Is superior. Simplicity, reflned and chaste, has beauty's charm to minds of taste. figp-Iyou want truth to go around the world you must hire an express train to pull it; but if yon want a lie to go 'round the world, it will fly ; it is as light as a feather. Jta?* A merchant, having sank his shop floor a couple of feet, announces that, "in conse | quence of receDt improvement, goods will be sold considerably lower than formerly "
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