j
r
i f a t i
iii
WW
THE BLESSINGS OF GOVERNMENT, LIKE THE DEWS OF HEAVEN, SHOULD BE DISTRIBUTED ALIKE UPON THE HIGH AND THE LOW, THE RICH AND THE POOR.
;ES SERIES.
EBENSBURG, OCTOBER; 13, 1858.
VOL. 5. IVO 48.
im mi
; 11 fi
in ii u in ii
ii us
' iFr'. n tlie Waverly Magazine.
TgE GIPSY'S HEAVEN.
EV LINDA HAYR.
0s Anion's shore there dwells a race
''YitliAinuf swarthy hue.
W GivJ 1S tlc nam that,d lVCn
"Onto that wandering few.
la ,b and fields, an'l Janes they live
A riming, restless life;
Tt.rv fear no ill, they heed no storm,
gut I've iu a constant strife.
One eve, in years long since gone by,
I met a Uipsey maid,
Who. seeing 1 had left the camp,
Anl lowing low, she said
"Ub vimr fortune I would tell
Here's mystery you can know ;
Hit-1! of one who loves you well
1'!! tell your friend and foe.
Coc:, cross your hand with silver bright,
Ii voti would know your fate;
Ti.ere' i"y !U'd grief in store f.-r you,
A;.Jl )c does you await.
"TV ttrs have said that you, ere long,
Must cross the ocean's ware,
Avi there will be your future home,
iuJ tiierc, p-rh?ps,yonr grave."
jr T.'ifriiig looked upon the maid,
i:'V:!.wl:dc thus possessed,
F rwt'l! 1 knew that 1, ere long.
V..s l; ing to the West.
i.iit i reas- :.cd with myself:
I' i haitce tins news she gained,
Am! to cunv incc nie of her power,
Thi uieth'xl she has feigned.
I turned to Lt-r, and thus I said
"Pray,l.linsy, do you kiuw
,vie riic sun, ine nower, me uviua.
t - 1 ii . A l f . I
An- c7i
,f.rU below?"
llor iiar eyes O.ro.j,ed. she murmuring said,
Lull"; weary yt iirs have fled
Since nmtluT liied, and gave to me
This htok of Heaveu," she said
'J dreamed the plate where she was gone
U'i.i lovely tu the view,
A:id urmikling, gushing wafers fi twed
'Neath skies of changeless blue.
"Hvthought that mother welcomed me
In ri bes ( purest white ;
S . a"ul tl.cre was no sorrow there.
No dark and moonless night.
"S::;(c then I've often thought of Him
That iii my vision came:
ote'l nie, lady, where is Heaven,
And what can be His name?"
1 1 1 her she must read the hook
1 It r mother prized so well ;
T:.;it .Jesus was the Doing's name
ffhfpe praises she could tell.
V ! when I kit my native land
Tu cross the ocean's wave,
V'ith hope of Heaven the Gipsy maid
lU'i f und a peaceful grave.
Jv .si Ot n. A coed
story
.e c
IS
told
, in
of a
Nor-
""Tlliy i, r'-n in the ritv
rn (J.'i'o The deacon was the owner and
r-T.'cr of a large pork-packing cstablish-
-''t. His out v v:i5 tit f tand at the Lead of
-billing trough, watch iu hand, to time
-length of the scald, cryii g "Hog in!"
n the just .slaughtered hog was to be
'rn in the trough, and "Hog out?" when
; watch told throe minutes. One week
f ress of business compelled the packers
:.iusually hard labor, aud Saturday night
.1 the deacon completely exhausted: in
i he was almost sick the next morning,
u church time came; but he was a lcad
& ttiuuber, and it was his duty so attend
waal service, if he could. Ne went.
l-e occasion was one of unusual solemnity,
i r.-vival wa.? in progress The minister
's.lieJ a sermon well calculated for effect.
'- r?rnra;i(: was a climax of irreat beautv.
v, nang the attitnde of one intently listcn--J
l;c recited to the breathless auditory
l'H ir:;, they whisper ! angels say "
"ii.. . ...
.' came irom the deacon s new. in
"stiiVian r.ii,ii Thn nf rmi.Vif.l andif nor
Brn"J if.cir attention from the nrcacher. He
tatcn, however, unmoved
'5:t'-r spirit, come away !"
f?, "" shoutel the -deacon "tally
s was too much for the preacher and
-c- 1 he latter ?miled, some snickered
I: Wride a few boys broke for the door,
piit their sides" laughing outside the
:ir Within fall hoirinT Th nrpnhpr wn
tcerted entirely sat down arose again
Jounced a brief benediction, and dis-
the r.nvthinnr oJkp but. snlf mn-minifcd
-'rer?
Ihe deacon soou came to a reali-
-'Us'! rf !.; - : :...., ,t..J
Vrt en r"r,rinianded him severely; while
js caught the infection of the joke,
yy possible occasion afforded an
op-
. "av for M.ftm i.ir
in:
"Hog
her.j has bcen writing a letter, to
m!,.. nave you got any carrots?
'! ;-U0 La sf 1 left out a word in my le tier,
Vjt(i we CJCr &aya when we leava out a
T'Jtie US' pul io a ca"ot, and write the
waut to put in over the next line.
WgttU;J,,;!s widely prevalent i
From the Londoa Family Herald.
A TALE FOR TRUANT HUSBANDS.
Where are you going, George ?" asked
Mrs. Wilson, as her husband rose from the
tea-table, and took his hat.
"O I'm going out," was the careless re
sponse "But where?" asked his wife.
"What odds does it make, Emma?" re
turned her husband. "I shall be back at my
usual time."
The 3"oung wife hesiiatcd, and a quick flush
overspread her face. She seemed, to have
made up her mind to speak plainly on a sub
ject which had Iain uneasily upoo her heart
for some time, and the could not let the op
portunity pass. It required au effort but
she persevered :
"Let me tell you what odds it makes to
me,1' she said, in a kind but tremulous tonj.
"If I cannot have your company here at
home, I should at least feel better if I knew
where you were."
; -'But you know I am safe, Emuia, and
t what more carou ask?"
"I do uot know that -ou are safe, George
I know nothing about you when you -are
away."
i'ooh ! pooh! would you have it that I
am not capable of taking care of myself?"
"luu put a wrong construction upon my
words, George. Love is always anxious
when its dealest object id away. If I did not
love you as 1 do, 1 should uot be thus un
easy. When you are at your place of busi
ness, I never feci thus, because I know I can
seek and find you at any momeut; but when
you are absent duiing these long evenings, I
get to wondering where you are. Then I
begin to lcel lonesome ; and to one thought
follows another, until I feel troubled and uu
easy. Oh if you would only stay with me
a portiou of your evcuiugs !"
"Aha, 1 thought that was what you were
aiming at," siid George, with a playful
shake of the head. "You would have ine
here every evening "
"Well, can you wonder at it?"' returned
Emma. "I used to be very happy when you
came to spend an evening with me before wo
were married ; aud 1 kuow I should be very
happy in your society now."
"Ah," 6aid George, with a smile, 'those
were business meetings. We were arranging
then for the future."
"And why not continue so to do, my hus
band '! 1 am sure we eould be as happy now
as ever. If ytm will remember, one of our
plans was to make a home."-
"And haveu't we got one, Emma?"
"W e have tvrtaiuly a place in which to
live," answered the wife, somewhat eva
sively. "And it is our home," pursued George.
"And," he pursued, with a sort of confident
i nou. iah, home is the wife s peculiar pro
j viuce She . has charge of it, and all her
; work is there ; while. Trie duties of the hus
j band e die. him to other sceues "
"Well, i admit that, as far as certain du
j ties are concerned," replied Emma. "But
you must remember that we both need relax
ation from labor; we need soctil and mental
improvement aud enjoyment; and what time
have we lor this save our eveniugs ? Why
should not this be my home of au evening,
as well as iu the day time and in the
niirht'r"
"Well, isu't it?" asked Gtorge.
"llow can it b, if you are not here?
What makes a home for children, if it"fe not
tue uouic ot tue parents r U hat Lome can a
husband have where there is no wife ? And
what real home comforts can a wife enjoy
where there is no husband? You do uot con
sider how lonesome I am all alone here dur
ing these long evenings. They are the very
seasons when I am at leisure to eujov your
companionship, and wheu you would be at
j leisure to enjoy mine, if it is worth enjoying,
i They are the seasons when the happiest
; hours of home life might be passed. Come,
will you uot fpeud a few of your evenings
with me V
'You sec enough of mc as it is," replied
the husband, lightly.
"Allow me to be the best judge of that,
George. You would be very lonesome here
all aJune."
"Not if it was my place of business, as it
is of yours," returned the young man. You
arc used to stajiug here. All wives belong
to home."
"Just remember, my husband, that pre
vious to our marriage, i had pleasant society
all the time Of course I remained at home
much of the time ; but 1 had a father aud
mother there, and I had brothers aud sisters
there and our evenings were very happily
spent. Finally, I gave all up for you I
left the old home and sought a home with my
husband. And now, have I not a right to
expect some of your oompanionship ? How
would you like to have me away every even
ing, while you were obliged to stay here
alone?"
"Why I should like it well enough."
"Ah but you would not be willing to
try it."
Yes, I would," said George, at a ven
ture. "Will you remain here every evening next
week, and let me spend my time among my
female friends ? '
Certainly I will," he replied, "and I as
sure you I shall not be so lonesome as you
iniagiue."
With this the husband went out, -and was
soon among his friends. He was a steady,
industrious man, and loved his wife truly ;
but, like thousands of others, he bad con
tracted a habit of spending his "evenings
abroad, and thought ft no harm." Ilia only
practical idea of home t eemed to be, that it
was a place which big wife took care of, and
where be could cat, drink and sleep, as long
as he could pay for it. Id short, he treated
it as a sort of .private boardiog-house. of
which his wife was landlady; and if he paid
all the bills he considered his duty done. His
wife had frequently asked him to stay at
home with her, but she had never ventured
upon any argument before ; and he had no
conception of how much she missed him.
She always seemed happy when he came
home, and he supposed she could always
be so.
Monday evening came, and George Wilson
remained true to his promise. His wife put
pn her bonnet and shawl, and he said he
would remain and keep bouse."
"What will you do while 1 am gone?"
Emma asked.
" Oh I shall read and ting, and enjoy
myself generally."
" Very well," said Emma. "I shall be
back early."
The wife went out, and the husband was
left alone. He had an interesting book, and
he began to read it. He read till eight o'
clock, and then he began to yawn, and look
frequently at the clock. The book did not
intercut him as usual. Ever aud anon he
would come to a passage which he knew
would please his wife, aud instinctively he
turned as though he would read it aloud ;
but there was nowife to hear it. At half
past eight he rose from his chair, and began
to pace the floor, and whistle. Then he
went and got his flute, and played several of
his favorite airs. After this he got a chess
board, and played a game with an imaginary
partner. Then he walked the floor, and
whistled again. Finally, the clock struck
nine, and his wife returned.
"Well, George," said the, "I am back in
good time. Have you enjoyed yourself?"
"Capitally," returned the husband. "I
had no idea it was so late. I hope you have
enjoyed yourself."
'Oh. splendidly I" t-aid his wife. I had no
idea how much enjoyment there was away
from home. Home is a dull place, after all
isu't it?"
"Why no I can't say that it is," re
turned George, carelessly. "In fact," he
added, "I rather like it.""
"I am glad of that," retorted Emma, "for
we shall both enjoy ourselves now. You
shall have a nice comfortable week of it."
George wii.ced at tiiis, but he kept his
countenance, aud determined to stand it out.
Ou the next evening Emma prepared to go
away again.
I shall be back in good time," she said.
"Where are you going?" her husband
asked.
"Oh, I cau't exactly tell. I am going to
several places "
So George Wilson was left alone again,
and he tried to amuse himself as before; but
he found it a difficult task. Ever and anon
he would cast his eyes upn that empty chair,
aud the thought would come, ' How pleasant
it would be if she were here !" The clock
finally struck nine, and ho began to listen for
the step of his wifa. Half an- hour more slip
ped by, and he because very nervous and un
easy. "I declare," he muttered to himself, after
he had listened for some time in vain; "this
is too bad. She ought not to stay out so
late !" But he happened to remember that
he often remained away much later than that
so he concluded that he must make the best
of it.
At a quarter to ten Emma came home.
"A little late, am 1 not i she said, look
ing up at t ie clock. "Hut I fell iu with
some old friends. How have you enjoyed
yourself V
"First rate," returned George, bravely.
"T think home is a capital place,"
"Especially when a man can havo it all to
hiiuscli," added the wife, with a sidelong
glance at her husband. But he made no re
ply. On the next evening Emma prepared to go
out as before; but this time she kissed her
husband ere she went, and seemed to hesi
tate "Where do you think of going?" George
asked, in an undertone, f "
- "I may drop in to seevJucle John," re
plied Emma. "However, you wou't be un
easy. You'll know I'm safe."
"Ob, certainly," said her husband; but
when left to his own reflections he began to
ponder seriously upon the subject thus pre
sented for consideration. He could not read
he could not play nor enjoy himself in
any way, while that chair was empty. In
short, he found that home bad no real com
fort without his wife. The one thing needed
to make his heme cheerful was not present,
"I declare' he said to himself, "I did
not think it would be so lonesome, And can
it be that she feels as I do, when fcho is here
all alone? It must be so," he pursued,
thoughtfully. "It is just as she 6ays. Be
fore we were married 6he was very happy in
her childhood's home. Her parents loved
her, and her brothers and sisters loved her,
and they did all they could to make her
comfortable."
After this he walked up and down the
" room several times, aud then stopped again,
and communed with himself.
"I cau't stand this !" said he. "I should
die in a week. If Emma was only here, I
think I could amuse myself very well. How
lonesome and dreary it is 1 Aud only eight
o'clock ! I declare I've a mind to walk
down as far as Uncle John's, and see if she
is there. It would be a relief if I only saw
her, I wou't go in She shan't know yet
that I hold out so faintly."
George Wilson took another turn across
the room, glanced once more at the clock,
and :hen took his hat and went out. It was
a beautiful, moonlight night, and the air was
ti ii.; 1 !
keen ana bracing, ne was warning moug,
with his eyes bent upon the pavement, when
he beard a light step approaching him. 11
looked up, and he could not be mistaken-
saw his wife. His first impulse was to avoiu
her, but she had recognized him.
"George," she said, in surprise,
vou?"
is
this
"It is," was the response.
"And you do not pass your evenings at
home?"
"This is the first time I have been out,
Emma, upon my word; and even now I have
not been absent frem the house ten minutes
I merely came out to take the fresh air. But
where are you going?"
"I am going home, George. Will you go
with me?"
"Certainly," returned tb husband. She
took his arm. and they walked home in si
lence -
When Emma bad laken.off berthings, she
sat down in her- chair, and looked at the
clock.
jlou are come nome early to-night, re
marked George
The young wife looked up into her hus
band's face, and, with an an expression half
smiling and half-tearful, she answered, "I
will confess the truth, George; I have given
up the experiment. I managed to stand it
last evening, but I could not bear it through
to-night. When I thought of vou here all
alone, i wanted to be with you. It didn't
seem right. I haven'icujoyed myself at all.
I have no home but this."
"Say you so!" cried George, moviug his
chair to his wife's side, and taking one of her
hands. "Then let me make my confession
I have stood it not a whit better. When I'
left the bouse this evening, I could bear it
no longer. I found that this was no home
for me, while my sweet wife was absent. 1
thought I would walk down by Uncle John's,
and see your face, if possible. 1 had gazed
upon your empty chair till my heart ached "
He kissed her as he spoke, and then added,
while she reclined her head upon his arm,
"I have learned a very good lesson. Your
presence here is like the bursting forth of the
sun after a storm; and if you love me as I
love you which, of course, I cannot doubt
my presence may afford some sunlight for
you. At all events, our next experiment
shall be to that effect. I will try and see
how much homo comfort we can find while
we arc both here to enjoy it."
Emma was too happy to express her joy in
words; but she expressed it nevertheless, and
in a manner, too, net to be mistaken.
The next evening was spent at home by
both husband and wife, and it was a srasou
of much enjoyment. In a short time George
began to realize how much comfort was to be
found in a quiet and peaceful home: and the
longer he enjoyed this comfort, the more
plainly did he see and understand the simple
truth, that it takes 'two to make a ban
py home, and that if the wife is one party
the husband must be the other.
From the London Journal.
HALF-AN-HOUR WITH A PUGILIST.
Some two months ago, I was walking up
and down the L1nie-street station at Liver
pool, in company with a friend, awaiting the
departure of the evening mail, by which we
were returning home. As it wanted but a
few minutes of the time, we selected a coin-
j partmeut in a second-class carriage; but be
fore we could enterwe bad 'to wait some
little time to allow of the egress of two or
three of the porters, who were deep in con
versation with two passengers already seated
while sundry other porters were clustered
round the carriage-door, peeping in, with
looks of admiring curiosity.
Surely, thought I, we are to have distin
guished fellow-passengers. Who can they
be? Are they the Siamese ambassadors? who
were lueu uauy ciucta-u. luoi; ncic ku
. , J e . K r i f
have been two of them one from each of
the kings. No; it is Eecoud-class; it cannot
possibly be they. Could it be Spurgeon aud
one of his deacons "doing it cheap?'' 2io ;
hardly likely. So we entered the carriage
with doubt and curiosity.
At the further end of the carriage, with
his back to the engine, sat a man, whose
closely clipped hair, bullet head, and broken
nosc.plaiuly told me what his profession was.
Facing me, on the opposite side, sat his com
panion, a person of much more preposessing
appearance and manners. A glance convinced
me that they were both prize-fighters.
To say that the first-mentioned individual's
head was bullet-shaped, is very much to ina-
1 mn lltnt nvniitAfilo' fnl tllfolv fill TM0A I tf !
metal shaped as that head was could, by any
possibility, be got down a gun-barrel; nor,
even supposing it to once down, could any
known means ever get it up again. No ge
ometrical term with which I am acquainted
could possibly convey any idea of that head.
It was not a decahedron, aud it was not a
duodecahedron; and its only claim to the title
of an "oblate spheroid" would arise frcm the
fact of its being flattened at the pole.
My friend glanced at me, aud I at him.
Thev were literally, and figuratively, "ug
ly customers;" and I secretly hoped that they
would not attempt to "improve the shining
hour" by practising their art upon us. How
ever, I soon found that there was no cause
for alarm on this head; for the "spheroid"
wasvcry soon in a slumbering, passive state;
and as I am naturally rather partial to elicit
ing information from peculiar characters,
such as one does not meet with in the daily
walks of life, I very soon got into conversa
tion with my opposite neighbor, whom, despite
his profession, I found to be a very polite, I
had almost said gentlemanlike, man. He
6poke in that peculiar tone of assumption
common to most Londoners, and I soon lear
ned that bis name was say Jones; that
he was a tmze-fishter that he had fought
seven prize-battles, and had never yet been
beaten; that he held himself liable to be
challenged by any man alive, no matter who,
or what the amount of the 6takes; that, at
hn wa ac'tin? as "trainer, or
.professional tutor to his companion 'George,'
V ..... L
n ha called hiai: that they were just return
7f- I 11 Ml I I'l 111 II-
ing from "George's" first prize-fight, which
had coma off three days before in tho vicinity
of Liverpool that bis adversary's title to the
honors of victory was open to dispute' there ,
being reason io suspect foul play and bribery
and that it had therefore been decided that
the battle should be fought over again.
All this information led on, of course, to
further conversation; and on my making some
remarks as to "George's" present personal
appearance, he assured me that he was very
decent-looking now, compared with what be
had been two days previously; for then his
head was just double its present size, and
that he bad brought it down tc its present
dimensions by the copious external applica
tion of castor -oil, and -thai, in -a few days'
time he would look quite respectable.
I thought to myself that bis"idea of respec
tability must certainly differ veiy much from
my own; for, as I glanced at the physiognomy
in question, I was much inclined to doubt
whether all the castor-oil in creation, let it
be ever so ' 'cold drawn ," could possibly im
press the stamp of respectability upon it.
But as I considered that tastes differ, and
that it was not for me to set up my cwn as a
standard, I did not dispute his statement,
but led him on to further conversation
He iuformed me that in early life he had
been a carter or a drayman in London, and
that he had novcr but once come into collis
ion with the municipal authorities, and that
occurred when he was pursuing the compar
atively peaceful calling before named. It
appears that he had a difficulty, as brother
Jonathan would express it, with a turnpike
man, relative to an alleged act of extortion
on the part of the Litter.
Iu wr. ting the biogoaphy of all great men,
it is customary to relate anecdotes of their
early life, to serve as a foreshadowing of what
their future developments were expected to
be. So in the case in question, that latent
fire of .hat genius which in after years was to
shine forti: so biilliantly, flashed out glori
ously on this occasion. In his own expres
sive language, "he jumped off his cart, squa
red at the man, and gave him one for his
knob."
He was about to resume his seat, with the
pleasing consciousness of having resisted op
pression, and done his duty like an English
man. when he was suddenly seized by two
myrmidons of the law, was brought up on a
charge of assault and batteiy, lor which he
got certain days in durance vile, and returned
to the bosom of that society he was after
wards so much to adorn-a wiser and a sadder
man.
This appears to have been the turning
point in his life : disgusted with commercial
pursuits, for which he felt that he was in no
way adapted,' he entered into his present
profession, which he appeared to have fol
lowed with that success which iuvariably at
tends perseverance aud assiduity.
His conversation and remarks being of a
somewhat desultory nature, I found great
difficulty in getting at anything like a con
secutive account of his life ; but from his va
rious remarks, I gathered that he had work
ed very hard at his profession.
His firist introduction to his companion,
George, struck me as having some claims to
the credit of originality, to say the very least
of it. He said that George was brought to
j his house by a mutual frieud, with a request
that he (Jones) would take him in hand.
I rather liked his looks, so I up with my fist
and hit him a blow on his nose. Upon this,
George began 'to show fight' in good istyle;
so, seeiug him to be gamey,' I uudcrtook to
traio him, and make the best I could of him.'
On my making some remarks about George
and what his future prospects were, he rc-
i , , , , i i , ii l i - i
i rdied that he could hardly make up his mind
r' , , . .
as to how hj would be likely to turn out
Tapping his own forehead, ho remarked that
"George was ruther soft there" "that he
bad no head," and that a fighting-man sho'd
have a "good head,'" so as to know when to
take a liberty" that the success of a fight
often depended as much upon the head as the
Jists; aud th.-t, though George was the "ga
meyest" fellow going, be was fearful that
want of head, and fondness for drink, would
prevent his rising to the dazzliug height at
tained by B-jine others of nis profession .
For himself, he furnished a strong argu
ment in favor of teetotalism, by saying that
although he kept a public-house in Loudon,
he never drank anything when going through
j the fatiguing operation of traing, and very
I 1 LI u 1 1 1 II 1 1 1 L 1 1 ULUl. wmvwuw -
and then, when on au outol the present kind;
. W . . - - .
and he instanced it as a prof of the great
codncss ef their Liverpool friends, that he
bad been kept in a state of partial inebriation
for nearly six days without its cosliag hiui a
penny.
This was their first visit to Liverpool, and
he expressed himself much pleased with the
kindness they had received, and likewise with
the general urbanity of the police authorities
in that town, who had ccver once molested
them during the engagement.
I asked him whether men in their profess
ion ever saved money. He replied that it
was quite impossible. When a man had bein
fortunate, he was made a good deal of by his
companions, who kept him in a constant whirl
of drunken excitement until his money was
all gone, and then ho bad to get up another
fight to make more; while if he was beaten,
the whole of the expenses fell upon him, be-
B;d9 the lost stakes, and theu be cot into
debt: and he advised me parenthetically aud
Jn nnfidance never to make a match for so
low a 6uni as twenty-five pounds sterling, as
it eould not possibly pay, for tue trade oxpen
,.- lrm amounted to over thirty pounds; the
principal items of which he enumerated one
nriKo,n T member, consisting of a "trainer
at three' pounds a week and bis keep, for seven
weeks at least." Only fancy letting one a
self out to be punched and hammered at by a
.1 . i . j I 1.. f ,-i .ntr nciri
i prize-ngoter uay uyuj . , -
1 tUa trnmrr office consists of a Bcnes ot
I 1' WL fc. u V
daily encounters with tne trainee, so mat ne
l.n 5n .mod nractice when he comes be-
fore the public,
lie intimated to me that, however much I
might be fascinated by the'ontward show and
glitter of their kind of life - it was in reality sv -very
hard one, at least until a man bad ob
tained a jwsition; and that eothing bnt tho
excitement of popular applause, and having a
public reputation to keep unsullied, could pos-
sibly carry them through it.
I have ocn remarked, in all public profes- ;
6ions, the great amount of brotherly feeling
that pervades the whole body. See wijh what
generosity and willingness authors, actors and
musicians come forward to the aid of a needy v
brother -rbj .benefits at theatreiby public
readiugs,'by concerts, - and similar means. f
And the same, feeling extends, strange as it
may seem, even to tne proiessiou in question, -as
the following instance will show: ind in
spite of the horrid and revolting circumstances -attending
the affair, it yet shiuesltke a streak
of sunlight through the awful moral darkness
a proof to my mind that, let a man debase
and brutalize himself to the lowest possible
point, he cannot entirely eradicate bis man
hood; that now and then it Will Hash up and
reclaim its lost throna, let the rein be every"
so short.
My companion casually inquired whether I
was acquainted with Edc. I replied that I
had not that pleasure, and, moreover, that I
was never at a prize-fight in my life. At
first, he seemed not disposed to believe me;
but on my assuring him that such was really
the case, be looked at me more in pity than
in anger, butsti!l seemed hardly able to con
ceive how in this enlightened nineteenth cen
tury any one could possibly have gone so far
on life's journey us I bad without having at
least heard of the hero in question. He there
fore endeavored to recall him to toy mind by
enumerating some of his more celebrated acts
of personal prowess. "You surely roust re
member Ede he who killed J ack' Somebody
in his last fight."
"Killed his man!" I replied with horror.
"Yes," he said, "it wa a bad job, poor
fellow;" and then he told mc all about how
the man received a hit on the jaw after four
hour jigrUing; how be was carried off the
field; how he never spoke a word after the fa
tal blow; aud how by six next morning he was
dead
"Buthow about his poor wife and children?
said 1.
"Ah, poor woman'." be replied, "it was a
bad job; but we all did the best we could for
her. We got her up a benefit, and managed
ta raise about three hundred pounds sterling,
which put her inte a good public house; and
we all do our best to make it pay. But what,"
he added, "is all that, compared with the loss
of such a husband as she had? For my part,
I would not lose my wife for three million of
pounds sterling. She is everything to me;
and I have my gocd old mother to keep,
and I have brought up my two little brothers
without its costing auybody a penny;" and
then went on to say that there was nothing
like civility aud kindness it cost but little,
and he had always found that they made him
friends wherever he went.
Beavo! thought I; there is a green spot yet
left even in this rough, debased heart one
little thread yet remaining to connect it with
humau nature. Imagine for a moment that
son tending his aged mother a mother to
whom, perhaps he owed no debt for early les
sons of love and kindness; of whom, in the
recollections of his early days, he can recall
few pleasiDg memories, few early admonitions
from her lips, which might have stood hhn iu
good stead through life as his counsellor and
guide.
Even the poor brutalized George, who all
this timc.had been dozing away in a state of
battered stupidity even he had some ono
who loved him, and whom he lovd in return.
Of Nero it was said, that over his tomb
some loving hand was seen each day to drop
a flower; so poor George fotlud it impossible
to keep away from a girl iu Londou whom he
loved, and who felt lonely without him, al
though he hnd to return to Liverpool in a
few days, to have another mauling, for bis
friends were going to get him up another fight
for his own peculiar benefit, to reimburse him
for Eundry losses sustained during his last en
gagement, And so I drew near home; and on leaving
the :rain, my companion thook me warmly
by tho hand, and cxprersed a hope that wheu
I next came to London Iwould give him a
call.
So be went on his way. and I on mine; and
8S I walked I thought; and the more I thought
the'more I became confused. Wrong seemed
to be getting right, and right seemed to have
no merit attachable to it. My "conscience
told nie that I ought to hold that man and his
profession in utter and supreme abhorrence;
but when I thought of the little Etreaks of
sunlight which ever and anon broke through
that dark and heavy cloua, i was iam, tuougn
still condemning all fighting tn general
grounds, to subdue certain -angry feelings,
and to take shelter under the Master's lesson,
"that if I was without tin, I might then cast
the stone." Audi asked myself a question
which I could not answer Why am not the
fighter and he in my plaeo, wrapping himself
up iu his Pharisaical cloak of spiritual pride,
and thanking iicaven mat, ue is uoi tutu as
I? Who can answer rae that? No, I do not
feel quite comfortable in sitting in judgment
on this unfortunate person, as I must consid
er him to be,without first ascertaining wheth
er the five talents committed to my care, with
a clearer kuo'vledgc as to their uses, have
bcen made to produce other Pve also? If it
has turned out that I have learned a lesson
in "charity, my half hour's ride was not in
vaiu.
RW Mr Applcton, Assistant Secretary
of State, is disabled for duty just no w -by
reason of weakness of hi? xyes.
Funch
fpeaks of
venison , as the deer
depatted.
i
30