THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
(IKE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOAVANDA:
Tbttrnlay Morning, April 25,1861.
g.'lericb Hocfrn.
•HEA;AT SPECTRES.
Who fears a sheeted spectre
Up the hall stairs gliding slow ?
Qr a warrior lotie, hall steel, half bono,
ta the tower that rocketh so ?
Tbo purblind uursc, the infant hoir,
But not a man, I trow.
Hot from without, but from within
Come spectres to appall-^
The hsart alone is the haunted lowor,
And the goblin-trodden hall,
Where shadows of the 10113 ago
Upon the present fall,
There youthful terlings from tho death
Of youth itself revived,
Aud buried hopes and wasted thoughts
In memory's charnel hived,
Starting, unsummoned, Into life,
Wander like souls unshrived.
Aad stalwart men of dauntless mien,
Of iron nerve and limb.
Knowing of fear but as a name
for something vague and and <lim.
Pause at its portal, as 'twere watehod
By flaming cherubim !
5t 11 cll b £al e.
H Struggle for Life.
1.
I It m the last day of the Indiana Confer
■ti.e. All business was dispatched, and the
kflsemblell preachers waited only for that last
rl moit important announcement which
aid decide for each the scene of the next
t'ilabors. In our Methodist communion
who presides over the annual meet
r#ied the "Conference" wields the ap
..!)£ power. His word, in this matter, has
1 wisely made supreme; and though, with
ugeneratinit Methodists of the East, the
r if presiding elders prompts the wisdom
I' their superior, while the larger and wealth-
Br congregations go one step farther and ask
Irirately beforehand for tho man of their choice
k the generous West they stick to tiie prima
r mode, trnsting to the experience of the
[i.hop that he shall so fit the men to the
thurefces that neither may be wronged.
Nor, let it be said hero to the honor of
those venerable men, tvho have now for more
khan hn/f a century exercised this somewhat
litrarv power, lias there often been found
; cause of complaint.
[he list of appointments is prepared during
1 session of Conference, and is kept strictiv
stV. so that no one knew, nor could foi in
seiiprobablc guess at his fate. The mur
irof voices was therefore hushed, and all
teed as with one ear when the bishop rose
•olve tiieir riddles for them.
Oie by one the willing servants bowed their
'.r: ng heads, with a sigh of relief or sor
' and Inst their general curiosity in their
■xcular interest. Presently was read out :
I >'!OTTOVER STATION ; PAUI. CLIFTON."
I Whereat a few of the elder brethren look
■lover toward the young man so named, scru-
It'Z.ng him with critical eyes, as though mess
pvng his fitness for this " Shottovcr Station";
L e others the younger preachers, looked up
pith ill concealed joy at their own escape.
For they wera hard eases at Shottover Sta
- .a. The church was small and weak ; the
outsiders" a turbulent set, irreverent to the
ut degree, exceedingly sharp discovering the
reseller's weak points, and very readv to take
Kvintage of thorn. A very stronghold of
pi was Shottover, where the poor minister
Bed hope for but small pay and less respect
■d might think himself lucky if he got off
lih whole bones Once or twice, indeed in
■v ; past, they had driven the newfy-appoint*
Bran awav by force of their brawny arms
■Ltatliorv lungs; and once taking an ex
81-'.:B 1 -'.: dislike to a young man, just from col-
Hp.td serving here his first year (and who,
■ w complained, " knew everything"), they
combined together and literally starved
■ fiiercfore Shottover was a place to be avoid-
B fa means, a plague-spot which hail driv-
Bseveral tender-hearted men into other con-
Buiees; and to which now foe some years
B* youngest member was, by general ugree-
Hentof the bishop with his subordinates, sent
trial of his budding powers—ju*t as
Bfs *ho have run away from home to sea on
B" r i"R'. voyage are placed in charge of the sky
B sSlid royal studding sails, to loose and furl
W hereby at least those whoso romance
B' skin deep, and who were indeed called,
B' Rot chosen, gtow to hate the glorious sea-
B R the precise proportion as they scrape the
B T their tender shins, and are glad at the
|V P?rt, to run away home again.
' 'h I take to lie a fine example of Mr.
' *(" s recently advanced theory of " Nat
,3 Selection."
''J Clifton, who sat in pleased uncon
u-ness a little 011 one side of the room
a young hear, all his sorrows before
recent acquisition to the Confer
B ( lie had graduated with honor two
H' "' ore at a Theological Institute in the !
L ' ;; i '' preached experimentally, and very
[ l| iiv t 01 , v ar j o u S occasions, to different 1
a '"s country congregations, had " taken a
. Trr ,0 Europe," and was now connted a
LT. Sr 'R . V011,, g man, whom any Conference
abe glad to receive; when lo ! to the
u, 4n A disappointment of his friends, he !
ji ~acc Westward, and eschewing the
1,0 ! ," s -* ,pvv " r>rk, resolutely wandered
i> e desert of Indiana Another John
c t ' *^' ss Dohbs, a roman-
I ( lady, who was shrewdly suspected
![ ? 6s upon the reverend Paul's heart—
L r o' , T . ery ""Eko <Jolin Baptist indeed,thought
k Hnosier preachers, when they saw
j • J ,J f hi* neatly fitting kid gloves on
coming into the Confereece-room, and spread
an immaculate pocket handkerchief on the
dirty floor whereon to kneel at prayers.
The fact is, that Clifton had been bred In
ease, and had the outside ot a gentleman,
which is a disadvantage sometimes ; particu
larly if the inside does not correspond. lie
had a young man's natural longing to go out
in the world, and see a little of the rough side
of it—to try his own wings, which he had now
for some years been impatiently fluttering 011
the edges of the paternal nest. Add to this
the honest enthusiasm of a young fellow who
believes himself called to show the heavenly
road (not as a finger post, as Jean Paul sug
gests, which only points the way, but does not
move itself.) And this tempered, perhaps, by
the modest thought that it would be easier,
for him, a young and inexperienced man, to
lead rough Hoosiers up this steep and nar
row path than the more refined and intellect
ual congregations of the East—a little mis
take I have known wiser men than the rever
end Paul to make—as though the wildest
horses did not need the best drivers. Put
these together, and you have, I suppose, uear
ly the mixture of motives which brought him
to avoid the soft ease of a " first class city
appointment," and join himself to this unknown
future ot the backwoods.
The bishop regarded him with mild pity as
he read him his fate. A set custom could not
be violated 011 his account ; nor, indeed, did
the venerable man believe that this trial had
best be spared the young preacher. When
the last hymn was sung, and the prayer and
benediction had dismissed the members to
their homes, he walked over to where Clifton
sat and shaking his hand encouragingly, said,
" Keep up your spirits, Brother Paul ! the
swerd of the Lord is 011 your side—' the
sword of the Lord and of Gideon.'"
" Yes, ves," remarked an old fellow who
overheard these words : " I wish there was
a little more Gideon though"—while a hard
featured circuit rider growled to himself—
" Tain't right, hardly. I've a mind to change
places with him : he looks like a good youug
fellow."
" You let him alone," interrupted old Fath
er Sawyer ; " probable the bishop knows what
he's about. Let the young man take his
chance. The Lord will provide."
" i don't believo the Lord knows anything
about Shottover," retorted the circuit rider,
who had enough of Gideon about him, at any
rate ; and who probably would have rather
enjoyed a tussle with that devil of mischief,
who was said to be so strongly entrenched in
Paul Clifton's new station.
In which regard lie differed much from
Paul, who was not what you call a musedlur
Cnristian, forcing people heavenward by the
fear of the Lord and a big fist ; but eminent
ly a mild mannered man, slender, and more
given to his Greek Testament than to his
dumb-bells. Old Peter Curtwriglit would
have counted him but small potatoes. But then,
even Peter is mortal. In fact, I find nothing
so very mortal as muscle.
That he might properly prepare himself for
personal contest with the sons of Belial who
made Shottover a by word and a reproach in
the months of the brethren, these took care
fully to inform brother Paul of the various
disagreeables and trials he might expect in Lis
new station. (Just in this way my grand
mother used to describe to me beforehand, and
with great minuteness and conscientiousness,
the nauseous horrors of that inimitable flavor
of disgust, ail impending dose of castor-oil as
of grandmothers, and particularly those of
the male sex.) Thus advised, and in no very
sanguine temper, Paul rode into Shottover 011
the top of the stage, on a Saturday morning ;
and after refreshing his inner and outer man
at the hotel, he proceeded to view his church
Now, to an earnest and unsophisticated
Christian like the Reverend Paul Clifton, us
ed all his life to the comfortably-cushioned
news, carpeted aisles, sofa'd pulpits, and scru
ptilous cleanliness of our city churches, the
iittlo meeting house at Shottover was like to
be a shock. A shock certainly, to his sense
of comfort and decency ; perhaps (who
knows?) to his faith in the Christian doctrine.
It is unpleasantly situated in the extreme
edge of a bare and sterile clay bank—down
which, I verily believe, it will tumble some
rainy day. Its low roof; its mud bespattered
walls, once pointed a dirty white ; its narrow
door way, making no allowance for sinners in
crinoline ; its ragged wagon-shed, like Jack
Straw's house, neither wind tight nor water
tight, and through whose board-sides several
generations of horses had gnawed sundry
holes, which gave their successors occasional
privileged squints into a cool moadow beyond
—thus pointing a Sunday lesson even to ob
stinate iiorse flesh, by this pleasant vision of
heavenly grass-fields ; and this flanked by an
appalling architectural novelty—a bell-tower,
or embryo steeple, standing on its own base,
and giving the impression to an unfamiliar eye
that it had teen lifted down by some light
handed giant—all this does not promise well
to a man who holds his faith by the ties of
mere use and comfort.
Within, the narrow aisles are covered with
a fine coaling of rich Indiana mud. The hard
straight-backed, uncushioned pews afford no
rest for the wicked ; nor to tlie pious neither,
unless as is some times the case, piety and
adipose tissue are found iu the same body.—
The preaching stand has at least the merit of
consistency, being neither cleaner nor more
ornamental than the rest of the church.—
Itain stained windows ; bare, white washed,
and partly "peeled"' walls, white where no
stains of tobacco betoken the resting place of
some saint who chews the cud of Virginia ton
tent beneath the shadow of the preacher's
long arms ; and a huge stove, whose pipes
stretch like vast arms along the ceiling on
both sides, as though preparing to shed a
fervid blessing on the assemblage ; truly here
was found cause sufficient for a series of shocks
to christians of weak faith or sensitive uerves.
ii.
though cleanliness b next to
godliness, a dirty shirt is uot evidence of tbe
unpardonable sip; arid, thank God ? I bare
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TO WAN DA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY R. W. STURROCK.
known men whose hard hands and soiled
clothes hid a soul so clean that, if you Were
not wretchedly near sighted, and could see
nil through a coating of clear dirt, you at
once took such to your heart.
Such an one was Farmer Leighton. A tall,
raw-boned, hard-featured man, with the awk
ward stragling gait, uncertain poise of body,
and splay feet, which are the rewards of an
inscrutable Providence for a life of severe toil
—perhaps to teach us to look beneath the
surface for the truest worth; perhaps also to
tell us that, man docs not live by bread alone,
and that Marv did indeed choose a better part
than serviceable Martha.
Farmer Leighton was now a well-to-do per
sonage in his little world. A man of some
[ thirty five summers, in most of which corn
planting,hay-making,reaping and housing crops
—the multifarious, never ceasing toils of the
farm—had left their marks not lightly upon
liiin; with scant, grizzled side whiskers, and a
chin wretchedly shaven by a dull razor and an
unsteady, wearied hand; hair of that tawny
sandy hue, which betokens several generations
of rough struggle with forest life, hanging
down in straight and tangled locks about his
cars and coat collar; and a Sunday suit of blue
Kentucky jeans, home-made, and ingeniously
contrived to show every angle anil rough knot
and ungraceful line in the poor, ill used body
beneath. This was the man whose harsh
cracked voice, with a querulous quaver in it
at first, and a strange after tone of protecting
and longing love, called out.
" Now then, old lady !
At which a bright bay mare harnessed to
a mud splashed buggy, standing near the hitch
ing post at the gate, pricked up her ears and
wondered what she bad done now.
As though there Were no other old lady in
the world.
" In a minute," answered a voice from with
in doors, having in it also a certain uncertain
tremble—a quaver, however, which stood for
the fcarfulnessof a long and much-loving heart
whose meek habit was to fit its motions to
the convenience of others; a voice soft and
agreeable, even though it was cracked, and
hinting of many cares and much housewifely
forecast. And presently appeared in the cov
ered way of the comfortable double cabin a
portly dame to whom this voice belonged.
Here followed a young girl, blue eyed and
fair haired, as they are in Indiana, and of such
buxom and shapely form, combining both
strength and grace, as is the natural result of
"hog and hominy," plenty of fresh air, and a
total lack of servants and other incentives to
a lazy life. Her name is Miranda Leighton
—for which lam sorry, for I can not but be
lieve that she should have been called bj some
such honest and plain name as Susan, Jane, or
Eliza. But the Hoosier farmers, having little
other grandeur to bestow upon their children
are pretty sure to give them grand and out
landish names. And I have a respect for facts,
which are stubborn things, but useful in their
vv ay.
Miranda unfastened her pony frcm a rack
beneath the wagon-shed, where he had stood
under shelter—lucky beast?—aud leading him
up to the horse block, leaped lightly into the
saddle. As she settled herself there, helped
by her father's kindly hands, a horseman rode
iuto the opening by a turn of the road.
" There's John now," said Mrs. Leighton.
" John, come, go to church with us."
" I'm goin'," said lie. "There is to be a
new minister, ain't thar ?"
" Yes, and no tricks now, John," urged his
mother, beseechingly.
" No, indeed ; we're going to listen—see
what stuff he's made of. Guess the boys 'II
be still enough to-day."
" I'll warrant they'll all be thar," grumbled
old man Leighton.
Which was a safe guess. For, next to a
circus, nothing draws so large a crowd in an
Indiana village as public speaking of any kind;
and above all, a new preacher. A talent for
oratory is worshipped by all the West; and a
man who really has something to say, and
knows how to say it as though he believed it
with all his heart, could not have a more ap
preciative audience than these rough, unletter
ed farmers. Nor will you find any where
sharper or more relentless critics than these.
As logical as children,and as impatient of hum
bug, they are ever ready with a biting word,
which inevitably pierces to the core of some
conscious misstatement, or sophistry, which the
speaker is not himself taken in by.
So the sister aud brother rode off together
in advance, while the old folks followed at
such leisurely pace as suited the bay mare,
who had had her own way so many years that
she took it now as a matter of right.
Miranda had just returned from school. In
Indiana the boys must work, and their school
ing comes,if at all, by fits and starts—as they
say lawyers get to heaven It is theirs to bat
tle with the primal curse from their earliest
years, and such learning as they get is picked
up at odd t'mes, and chiefly from their Bibles
and the agricultural papers. But the girls go
to school. For them money is laid by; and as
they grow up to young womanhood, poor in
deed must bo the farmer who does not send his
daughter away to a boarding school in some
city or larger town, where she at any rate
the opportuni'y to gather such of the ways,
and thoughts, and accomplishments of a more
finished culture 11s many assimilate best to her
nature. With these advantages the daughter
becomes the oracle of the house, cherished by
all as a being of superior mold, and greatly
held in awe by younger brothers, who submit,
with what grace may be, to hcr dominion.—
Miranda, as I said, had just returned from
school. Tiie free air and pleasant sunshine of
this Sunday morning, and the exhilarating
canter of the pony,raised her spirits, and gave
her courage to administer a scolding to John,
some of whose tricks she had heard of 011 her
return from School at Louisville.
" Don't you see it's very wrong?" she asked,
with such a sparkle in her eyes as made it
vaguely doubtful tocontiite John, whether it
was nearly so wrong as he ha d before thought
to tie a kitten under the bench occupied by the
roang ladies' Bible class ia cbareb, where
" E-EFFLARDLTSS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
had miawed dismally at every pause in the
sermon,to the great distress of the young ladies
and the intense delight of the boys.
" Don't you see its wrong!" she repeated.
" Did'ut mother always tell you to be a good
boy; and didn't I always tell you to behave?"
" I'm going to be as good as pie, now yo've
come back, Sis," said John, turning toward
the pleased Miranda, a face really expressive
of a vast umouut of contrition. But alas !as
be turned in the saddle a horrifying screech
ot feline agony interrupted this charming
scene.
" 0 Lord 1" exclaimed John, sliding nimbly
off his horse, aud making a desperate grab
after his coat-tails, from a pocket in one of
which presently emerged a good-sized cat, spit
ting out evident rage at her treatment, aud
with eyes sparkling, head down, aud tail erect
rushed into the woods.
There was a dead aud ominous silence for
tho space of twenty interminable seconds.
" Now JOHN !" at last exclaimed Miranda
very slowlv, and wiih an injured air; "now
JOHN!"
And then the little witch could hold her
grave face no longer, but burst out into such
a peal of laugther that the pony was really at
a loss to know what it all meant, while the
bay mare hurried up her lagging paces, very
much surprised indeed, and anxious to disco
ver the cause of such sudden merriment.
" You BAD, WICXED boy 1" exclaimed Mi
randa, catching a moment's breath, and with
it a grave face; but seeing John still standing
by his horse, with red face, and hands closely
held to his coat tails, she broke away again
into a laugh which the woods were very glad
indeed to echo.
" I didn't mean to've sot on her," said John
respectfully, willing to mollify his sister; "gtiesS
she ain't hurt much."
"I'll catch her if you like," he added, sud
denly, in the hope that an offer of service, of
of whatever kind, would help him out.
"Tain't that, you dreadful boy. You know
very well," laughed Miranda, trying to assume
that severity of countenance which she felt the
occasion and the offence demanded. "What was
the cat doing in your pocket, vou dreadful
fellow ?"
"Can't a feller take his cat to church with
out you pitchiu' into him ?" retorted John, in
injured tones; and then feeling that defense
was worse than useless in his case, and seeing,
besides, the bay mare approaching, with fath
er aud mother peering curiously at their child
ren, he judged it prudent to remount his horse
and rido off at such pace that he was not like
ly to be caught. But as Lie rode Miranda
noticed, with a chuckle of satisfaction, that he
still held one hand carefully near the coat
pocket which had contained the luckless cat.
The Reverend Paul Clifton rose early on
this Sunday morning, and was the first man,
after the sexton, to enter the church. To say
that lie felt comfortable would be to make bim
out a fool, which 110 was not. It was a novel
situation; and I daresay it costs a gentleman
more serious thought to preach to a congrega
tion of Indiana farmers than it does Peter
Cartwright to expound his Gospel to a Fifth
avenue audience. When he had seen bis church
(or meeting house) when he had made the
acquaintances of tiie sexton, end some others
of the leading members—when he had slept
upon his impressions—and now,on this bright
Sunday morning, was arrived at the climax of
his troubles, the reader who can realize that
the Reverend Paul was not only an honest
young fellow, but also a mail who thought
modestly of his own abilities, will not be sur
prised that he sat in uncomfortable anxiety for
the result.
For 10 fail here was to fail utterly. lam
ashamed to refer again to Mr. Darwin (whose
philosophy, by the-way.l distinctly repudiate,)
but here was what that eminent naturalist
very properly calls a " struggle for life."
It was only in these two days that the solemn
question. What is the full force and meaning
of this office 1 have taken upon myself ? began
to crowd upon him in all its wide and serious
bearings.
And what, indeed, it is to be what we call
indifferently preacher, pastor, missionary ?
The natural History of the Clergyman is
still to be written. I do not intend to bore the
sufficiently impatient reader by interpolating
this place any attempt at so important a
work. But pending the advent of the great
ecclesiastical Agassiz, who shall prevent me
from setting down here my little preliminary
"Essay on Classification ?" See; there is.
1. The whishy-washy young man,who would
starve in any other calling, and therefore lit
erally "preaches for a living;''
2. The fluent young man, who preaches
because that is the most impressive way of
saying nothing;
3. The ambitious young man who sees that
the prefix* Reverend gives, even in our Pro
testant America, a certain power and influence
to its possessor;
4. The wide awake young man, who knows
that tor him there is no such easy way to gain
bread and butter aud houor (and a rich wife)
as the pulpit;
5. The studious yoilng man, who turns cler
gyman that he may gain leisure for his favorite
books and studies ;
6. The young man who has a certain intel
lectual theory of Christianity, with which lie
thinks it desirable to quiet the world. This
oue, I sometimes think, lacks only a little true
piety to be indeed the model clergyman of the
age;
And, lastly—not to make this list too long
—there is your man who, feeling not only his
neighbor's, but his own pride, and selfishness,
and arrogance, and forgelfulness of God, and
of all good words and works, feels also that
above all mere dickering for place, or power,
or superfluous bread and butter, cr any low
ambition whatever, is the divine office of
leading his fellows from these abysses, where
devils lie in wait for their souls, to those green
fields where Christ the Shepherd, ever waits
his sheep. To such men He said of old, and
says to-day, "Go ye into all the World and
proclaim the Gospel to every creature, i*giv J
ivg at Jerusalem." To such, Christ is He who
"came into the worid to save sinners, of whom
I am chief." These are they, the true ministers
of his Word,following and teaching Him witli
that divine love and charity which compels the
rudest souls. Shall we complain if any such
go forth comprehending their great work
vaguely—looking out upon it as through a
glass, darkly ?—Doubtingh, esitating, in fear
and trembling ? Like Gideon, the son of Joash
asking vain signs of their Lord ? I think few
men ever set out on their life-work—if it be
anything higher than mere selfish toil—with
any clear ideas of what they are to do. Your
logical man is your thorough rascal. So let
us not doubt Paul Clifton, if his heart sank
down into his boots as he sat in his pulpit on
that Sunday morning, watching the entrance
of his congregation; who now began to slide ia
in little awkward squads of six or seven, bash
fully examining "the new minister" as they
pushed up the aisles into their seats.
They need not straiu their eyes to see bim.
He was no dim religious light, such as some
of our city churches affect, and which is so
admirable an annoyance that I don't wonder
weary Wall street cultivates it. The broad
pleasant sunshine pours in boldly through
that part of the open and curtainless windows
not obstructed by the opaque bodies of Sundry
Hoosier lads who prefetred u seat in the win
dow ledges—a luxury refused them on week
days, when slabsided Jeboram Baker, the
Yankee pedagogue, here taught the youug idea
how to shoot.
And now as Miranda, her face composed,
and her hand holding her brother's arm,
marched the reluctant youth np the aisle, her
dress caught one of the intellectual popguns
which lay at random about the floor; whereat
11 small boy, coming behind with his mother,
gave ail auxious glance, than dove down des
perately into the crowd,crying out in his shrill
treble. "Dog on it, that's rov speller 1" Then
brandished aloft the precious dog eared voiiime
lie had rescued, and was incontinently sup
pressed by bis irate mother, who looked mat
ernal thunders at the unlucky urchin who had
dared to "holler out in ineetin'!"
Paul smiled as his eyes took in the scene,
who grotesque humor relieved him for a mo
ment from his load of anxiety. A man who
has really a laugh in him never carries it near
er the surface than when he is thoroughly
wretched. And now the service began.
If you think I am going to give you the
sermon—or any part of it—vou are mistaken.
A mere sermon don't often convert anybody
not even the preacher. Old John Wesley au
gured badly of the man who told him that he
(Wesley) had converted him; and begged him
to pray the Lord to do it over. Webster de
fines a sermon to be a pious and instructive
discourse. Now, it, cau't be pious without
being instructive; and moreover, Dr. Webster's
definition excludes a considerable class of ser
mons, which are neither pious nor instructive,
but only logical, or theogical, which is worse.
For I believe, with one of our greatest preach
ers, that all theology comes of the devil; and
when a man gets iuto his pulpit aud begins to
lay out the Christian doctrine to me by rule
of thumb, or by any other rule but that golden
one of which Christ said that he who keeps
this fulfills all the law and the prophets—then
I try very hard to run my thoughts off on
some little side track of my own, where they
may quietly take another train and go to a
quite different place from the preacher's.
When Paul rose lie read aloud those beau
tiful promises of Christ 011 the Mount. And
as he read, his heart, so long dumb with fear
before this strange people, grew stroDg and
full with the dear love which speaks iu every
line of those blessed words. It is not so ibueh
words a speaker needs as thoughts; and so
much thoughts as the one great inspiring
thought which shall bind his audience to him,
and make him and them from that time kind
red aud of one spirit. In this sign we eonqu
er. And this sign ? I'll call it sympathy. He
called it love. In what manner should he
speak ? How should he manage to please
them ? Had been Paul's troubled thought.—
But now tliev were no longer they. No Idnger
farmers, uncouth, peculiar, different—but men
and brethren, of the same thoughts, the same
hopes, the same fears, the same heaven-born
aspirations. Not stranger? but kindred,saved
by the same blood, reaping the same promises
tempted in all things, eveu as was He who
suffered all that we might foiiow him. "Be
you all things to all men," said the Apostle;
to whom this command was doubtless plainer
than to some of his successors.
Do you think words fail the man whose
heart is full to bursting 1 Words these were
of Paul's, neither brilliant, nor fine, nor pro
found, nor trashy; but very simple indeed.—
And though this young man had satisfactorily
displayed his talents before divers cultivated
city congregations, this was in truth the first
sermon of his which went to his own heart.—
Do ydu know what Christ meant when he said
to thein : "Go and preach this go.mcl to all
nations, beginning at Jerusalem ?"
Jehoram Baker, the callous Y'anke pedago
gue, who cotild stand more hard preaching
than any man I ever knew, was cheated of his
customary nap that morning. The people
were very much surprised. They didn't quite
understand it. That is to say—they did.—
When Paul came among them after service it
was not as "the new minister," but as an old
friend. He needed no introduction to men
and women wbose hearts he had touched so
neariy. He was one themselves. No fine
city gentleman come to tench rough Hoosiers
what they knew perhaps better than he. Nor
any rdde soldier of the Cross, so overwhelm
ing them by the thunder of his gospel artillery
as to leave no hearing for the soft loving
voice of the great Captain of our salvation,wh'o
wills not the death of sinners (and surely nev
er wished to see thrm ddmned before they
were dead.) Nor, lastly, was he, to their con
ception, any theological mummy, stiff with the
wrappings of formulas, and with dry husks
where live meri keep their hearts.
Only a gentleman.
I hope nobody will ask me to esy "Cbristain
gentleman:" because then I shall thiuk my
VOL. XXI.—NO. 47
corrector does uot know what it is to be it
gentleman.
And do you think a gentleman cannot pre
vail with such plain folks as these without
bluster, and casting away his own tree ue
turc ? Does not the greater contain the leSs?
And who told you that this old Hoosief far
mer, in cowhide boots and homespun clothes,
slow of speech arid awkward iu mauier,is nol
the truest gentleman God ever made t
"Father says you must come home with us,"
said Miranda Leighton, pointing towbCre"F
thqr" stood before the meeting bouse door
holding the mare, who was restive for har
diuuer. There were a plenty of invitations to
"come and stay with us;" but Squire Leigh
ton" carried the day, bore off Paul, who fotrnd
himself presently in a comfortable farm bouse,
where bis host preseutcd him in farmer fash ion:
" This is the old lady ; this is Miranda ;
and this is John, my boy ; 1 wish he wasn'l
such a bad boy. Make yonrself at home, and
try to like us and our ways. They ain't very
fine ; but we mean what we say."
" In what way is John such a bad fellow
Paul ventured to inquire, byway of setting
himself at ease with that young man, who
looked at the certain degree of suspicion; as
one of his natural enemies.
Wherupon John's mother made sorrowful
confession of his tricky propensities, of his
dislike to church, of his fonduess for other
boys just like him ; und Miranda completed
the display of John's utter depravity by rela
ting the incident of the cat.
At which the Reverend Paul laughed so
heartily that even glum John veutured on a
smile, and Miranda had her fun all over
again.
When dinner was over, and while the old
folks smoked their pipes, Paul persuaded
Johu to show him over the farm. The conse
quence of which showing was that John
turned to Miranda with a puzzled look, and
the remark that "that thare miuiiter warn't a
bit like any other he ever saw. Why Sir,"
said the poor fellow, "he laughs just like
other people ; and made me tell him about
everything on the place. And he likes fishing,
and I'm going to show him the creek. And
he didn't know what a harrow was till I told
| him added John with a chuckle, "and I'm
to show him bow to plow."
" So you think he'll do ?" qnerried Miranda,
quietly.
" I dunno yet" said John, resuming big cau
tious look ; "I dunno vet—but I thiuk."
Having won over John, Paul's fuma won
went thtough all the country-side ; and as
he proved himself a tolerable shot, a good
fisherman, and sensible fellow generally, "tha
boys," who had been so long the plague of
Shottover meeting house, presently made him
their honored captain, without whose presence
or countenance no fuii could prosper, while
they delighted to be for him a guard, often
usore zealous than wise.
Put what avails to retount at length the
peaceful triumphs.of the Reverend Clifton.—
His first victory decided the campaign ; and
he surprised the bretbern at the next anuual
Conference meeting by requesting (unless some
one else wished the place) to be "continued"
in Shottover another year.
" What Paul Clifton could have found la
Shottover ?" was a question which puzzled
every body but Cliftou himself, till this day—
—Fair, and gentle, and dearly beloved read
er, you guessed it long ago, didu'i you ? And
I am not such an ungrateful boot" as to disa
point you—till one day the bishop was invited
to dedicate a new meeting house in Shotto
ver ; arid this done, was requested "to unite
in the holy bands of matrimony" (which bdhds
they wear lightly to this day)
THE REVERENb "AC!. CLIFTON
AND
MISS MIRANDA LEIGHTON
John was present, in a great, state of iqind
and shirt collar, and after the ceremony was
over, and 4 ttie company bad adjourned,privately
bestowed his blessing bn Miranda, declaring
that "she'd got the best feller for a husbtnd
—ef be was a preacher.
Appropriate Prayer —lt is customary frv
Maine to open the term of our Superior Court
with prayer.aud the sheriff usually selects some
one of our residing clergymen to officiate on
such occasions. Once a year a ' full court,'
as it is called, is held by all the judges, to hear
and decide questions of law. A year ago last
summer the judges assembled at the appointed
time, and the 'minister' selected (a very wor
thy man, by the way, of the Methodist per
suasion) was 011 Land. At the time appoint
ed, amidst the most profennd stillness of the
bar and spectators, he began to pray; and
after returning thanks for our many bles
sings, religous and political, and praying for
our Goverpients and institutions generally-,
State and National, be besought the favor
of Providence for the judges there assembled.
" O Lord," said he, 'look with favor upon
Thy servants the judges of this court, endow
them with wisdom, and overrule all their deei
sions for the good of the parties V Joe M ,
who had only a few days before received de
cisions of the couft against him iu two impor
tant cases that he had argued the term before,
and who is a bit of a wag, turned round to a
brother lawyer, anil, without moving a mus
cle except round the eyes, whispered, so as to
be heard by all the bar, 'Amen! for self and
clients.'"
—Severn! days since, while traveling on
the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad, when
the cars stopped at Trince's Tank, we over
heard the following conversation between a
young gent from Georgia, who wa ou the
train, and a small hoy on the road.
Passenger —" What did the cars stop for!"
Boy—" To take in water."
Passenger —" What river is that?"—point
ing to the water in the ditch.
Boy —"I don't know?"
Passenger —" What do yen know?"
Boy — " I know the cars brings a lot of
d—d fools along this way." The young gent
drew his bead in, and *as soon fas! asleep