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NELLY BELCHE R.
band and children.” " Touch the poor woman!"
cried Nelly, stretching herself up—and she was the Uncle Snooks had a pretty hard time on it some- tallest woman in the parish—- let him lay the times, when the women folks used to come and weight of his rummy finger upon me if he dares; plague him about not selling any more rum to their and, though I'm poor enough in purse,
Heaven husbands. There was one Barney Belcher, who knows, I'll show him that I've the same spirit of my drank up his farm. They used to say his old cow father, who thrashed him when he was eighteen, for choked him, because he sold her last of all his stock, stealing a sheep-skin. I won't go out of his shop, and died in a fit, while he was drinking the very nor buulge an inch, till I've said my say, in the prefirst dram that he bought with the money he got for sence of ye all.” Nelly Belcher,” said uncle 'Zeik, her. Barney's wife tormented uncle 'Zeik from « you'll have to pay for this." Pay for it !" cried morning to night; and her persecution, together Nelly, in a screaming voice, « and hav'nt you got with the loss of his property, as I always thought, your pay already ?—Hav'nt you got the homestead drove him out of his business, and shortened his and the stock and the furniture ? And did'nt Bardays. She was a proper firebrand, though she never ney pawn the children's clothes last Friday, and took any spirit herself. There was not a happier bring you every cent he got for them? You've got couple in our parish, when they were first married; every thing from the ridge-pole down; you've got and they had a family of four little children, that all here, among your wages of iniquity; and as she every body used to notice, for their neat appearance, said this, she gave a blow with her fist, upon the I've seen them many a time, of a Sunday going to top of uncle 'Zeik's till, that made the coppers meeting, hand in hand, and all four abreast, along pretty lively I tell ye. "Snooks” said she, “you've with their father and mother. Barney was a very got every thing. I have not a pint of meal, nor a thrifty farmer, and I never thought he was the peck of potatoes for my children. Stop—I'm misman to die a drunkard. It used to be said, that taken, there's an old rum jug in the house, that's there had'nt been a likelier couple married in the been in your shop often enough; you ought to have parish for many years; for though they had almost that; and there's a ragged straw bed, you shall nothing to start with, yet they were amazing hand- have them both, and any thing else you'll find, if some to look at; they were generally as smart as a you don't let Barney have any more rum. You've couple of steel traps, and very industrious into the made your bargain, Snooks, your own way; but bargain. They did surprising well for years. But there's a third party to it, that's the devil. You've he got to be an ensign, and rum and regimentals did got poor Barney's money in your till, and the devil's the business for poor Barney in less than no time. got your soul in his fire-proof, and he'll keep it there When he got to be pretty bad, she first came to the till the day of judgment.” Uncle 'Zeik offered house, and then to the shop, to get uncle 'Zeik not \ 'Bijah Cody a handsome present, if he'd turn her out to let him have any more liquor. They had a good of the shop. " I'd a leeile rather not, Mr. Snooks," many talks about it, but uncle 'Zeik would have his answered 'Bijah with a look that showed plainly way. At last she consulted a lawyer, and came enough how much he enjoyed uncle 'Zeik's torment. over to the shop, and gave uncle 'Zeik a real dres-- Look here Nelly Belcher,” said uncle 'Zeik--and sing, before more than a dozen customers. Well, he was getting wrathy, for he stamped his foot pretty Nelly Belcher,” said uncle 'Zeik, when she came in, smart—the second Tuesday in November next resolved to be beforehand with her, “what do you the court will sit, and you shall answer for this." want to-day?" « Mercy,” said she, “if I can't - What care I for your court ?" replied she « the have justice. You well know what I want. I now day will come and it may come this hour when a request you once again to sell my husband no more higher court may sit; and you shall answer for spirits.” “ And how can I help it?" said uncle 'Zeik, more than all this a thousand fold. Then you cold somewhat disturbed by her resolute manner. "I hearted old man, I will lead my poor ragged childhave taken a lawyer's advice," said she, “and you ren, before the bar of a righteous God and make a have no right to sell liquor to common drunkards.” short story of their wrongs, and that poor young « Do you say that your husband is a common man's who has fallen by your hands, just as though drunkard ?” said he. - To be sure I do," she he had been killed with ratsbane. There's none of replied. I really do not think your husband is you here that does'nt remember me and Barney a common drunkard, Nelly Belcher," said uncle when we were first married. Now, I ask you if 'Zeik. « Snooks," said she, clinching her fist, - you ever you dreampt that we should come to this? are—what you are. You know that Barney is a was there ever a little farm better managed!- And if common drunkard, and you made him so, you old- I was not a careful, faithful industrious wife to Barlicensed, rumselling, church member.” " Go out of ney, I wish you to say the very worst to my face. my shop,” cried uncle 'Zeik; stepping towards her. And were my little ones ill-treated ? Had'nt they " I would'nt touch the poor woman,” said one of the whole clothes for Sunday, and was’nt they constant company; "she's driven on by the state of her hus. I at meeting for years, tilt this curse crept in upon
us, like an adder? And till then did ye ever see a for rhyming; and she used to come and sit upon the likelier man than Barney? And as for his kindness to horse-block before our shop, and sing a sort of song, me and the children till that hour, it's for me to wit- that was meant to worry uncle 'Zeik, and it did worry ness; and I say it before ye all, that before he tasted him dreadfully, especially the chorus. Whenever this old man's liquor, there never was a hard thought he heard that, he seemed to forget what he was or a bitter word between us. He was the boy of my about, and every thing went wrong. 'Twas somefoolish love when he was seventeen, and the man of thing like this— my choice when he was three and twenty. I gave
He dug a pit as deep as hell, him an honest heart that never loved another, and
And into it many a drunkard fell ;
He dug the pit for sordid pell, the trifle of worldly goods that my mother left me ;
And into that pit he'll fall himself. but he has broken the one and squandered the other. One time when poor Nelly sung the chorus pretty Last night, as I lay upon my straw bed, with my loud, and the shop was rather full, uncle 'Zeik was poor children, I thought of our young days, and of so confused that he poured half a pint of rum, which our little projects of happiness; and, as I saw poor | he had measured out, into his till and dropped the Barney in my fancy just the trim lad that he was change into the tin pot, and handed it to the cuswith his bright eye and ruddy cheek, I felt my eyes tomer. filling with tears, as they're filling now. I hope I I really felt for him; for about this time, two of may never shed another,” said she, dashing them off his sons gave him a sight of trouble. They used to with the back of her hand, and resuming her look get drunk and fight like serpents. They shut the of vengeance. " I'm going to cross your threshold oldgentleman down in the cellar one night, and one of for the last time, and now mark me well, I ask you them when he was drunk slapped his father in the once for all, to sell poor Barney no more liquor. If face. They did nothing but run him into debt; and you do, I will curse you till I die, as the destroyer at last he got to taking too much himself, just to of my husband, and I will teach my children to curse drown care. Old Nelly was right; for uncle Snooks you when I am dead and gone, as the destroyer of fell into his own pit before he died. their father.
After the Temperance Society was formed, he
lost his license, and got to be starving poor, and "Uncle Snooks continued to sell rum to Barney the town had to maintain him. He's been crazy for Belcher, as before, whenever he got any money. It several years. I went to see him last winter was thought by a good many that Nelly had lost with father, who has tried to get him into the state her reason, or very near it, about that time. She hospital. It made me feel ugly to see him. He found out that Barney got rum at our store, and sure did'nt know me, but all the time I was there he enough, she brought her four little children, and kept turning his thumb and finger as though he was standing close to the shop door, she cursed uncle drawing liquor, or scoring it with a bit of chalk Zeik, and made them do so too. It worried him upon the wall. It seemed as if he had forgotten all exceedingly. Whenever she met him in the road, his customers but one ; for though the wall was she stopped short, and said over a form she had, in covered with charges of rum and brandy and flip and a low voice; but every body knew, by her raising toddy, the whole was set down against Barney her eyes and hands, that she was cursing uncle Belcher. "Zeik. Very few blamed her; her case was a very hard one; and most folks excused her on the score of her mind's being disordered by her troubles.
SONNET. But even then she made her children obey her, whe
BY WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON. ther present or absent, though it was said she never struck them a blow. It almost made me shudder How fall fame's pillars at the touch of time! sometimes, when I've seen these children meet
How fade, like flowers, the memories of the dead! uncle 'Zeik. They'd get out of his way as far as How vast the grave that swallows up a clime ! they could; and when he had gone by, they'd move How dim the light by ancient glory shed ! their lips, though you could'nt hear a word, and One generation's clay enwraps the next, raise up their eyes and hands just as their mother And dead men are the aliment of earth ; had taught them. When I thought these children
Passing away,” is Nature's funeral text, were calling down the vengeance of heaven upon Uttered co-evous with creation's birth. uncle 'Zeik, for having made them fatherless, it What though 'tis certain that my humble name, made my blood run cold.
With this frail body, shall soon find a tomb ? After the death of her husband, she became very It seeks a heavenly, not an earthly fame, melancholy, and a great deal more so, after the loss Which through eternity shall brightly bloom : of her two younger children. She did not curse Write it within thy Book of Life, O Lord, uncle 'Zeik after that. But she always had a talent And in the last great day," a golden crown award!
THE MARTYR OF THE ARENA.
BY EPES SARGENT.
Narrated in Gibbon's Roman Empire. Honour'd be the hero evermore,
Who at mercy's call has nobly died ! Echoed be his name from shore to shore,
With immortal chronicles allied !
Verdant be the turf upon his dust,
Bright the sky above, and soft the air ! In the grove set up his marble bust,
And with garlands crown it, fresh and fair.
Peal'd the shout of wrath on every side ;
Every hand was eager to assail ! "Slay him! slay!” a hundred voices cried,
Wild with fury, but he did not quail ! Hears he, as entranced he looks above,
Strains celestial, that the menace drown? Sees he angels, with their eyes of love,
Beckoning to him, with a martyr's crown? Fiercer swell’d the people's frantic shout!
Launched against him flew the stones like rain! Death and terror circled him about
But he stood and perishd-not in vain ! Not in vain the youthful martyr fell!
Then and there he erush'd a bloody creed ! And his high example shall impel
Future heroes to as great a deed ! Stony answers yet remain for those
Who would question and precede the time ! In their season may they meet their foes,
Like TELEMACHIUS, with front sublime.
In melodious numbers, that shall live
With the music of the rolling spheres, Let the minstrel's inspiration give
His eulogium to the future years ! Not the victor in his country's cause,
Not the chief who leaves a people free, Not the framer of a nation's laws
Shall deserve a greater fame than he !
Hast thou heard, in Rome's declining day,
How a youth, by Christian zeal impellid, Swept the sanguinary games away,
Which the Coliseum once beheld ?
The Anniversary of Lovejoy's Martyrdom.
BY MARIA WESTON CHAPMAN.
Fill'd with gazing thousands were the tiers,
With the city's chivalry and pride, When two Gladiator's with their spears,
Forward sprang from the arena's side. Rang the dome with plaudits loud and long,
As, with shields advanced, the athletes stood, Was there no one in that eager throng
To denounce the spectacle of blood ?
No tears to-day! a lofty joy should crown
A deed of lofty sacrifice like thine,
LOVEJOY! and bid thy name with honor shine, As to remotest time we hand it down. That seed of Liberty, so gladly sown,-
We will not water it with griefs and tears;
But, o'er its harvest in the future years Rejoice, as those before whose gaze hath shone A vision of the faithful, girt to die
'Mid hostile crowds, in darkness for the right; Yet may we mourn that, ringing through the
Tears for the blood of others shed by thee;-
Ay, Telemachus, with swelling frame,
Saw the inhuman sport renew'd once more : Few among the crowd could tell his name
For a cross was all the badge he wore !
BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
Yet with brow elate and God-like mien,
Stepped he forth upon the circling sand; And, while all were wondering at the scene,
Check'd the encounter with a daring hand. " Romans !” cried he— Let this reeking sod
Never more with human blood be stained ! Let no image of the living God
In unhallowed combat be profaned ! Ah! too long has this colossal dome
Fail'd to sink and hide your brutal shows ! Here I call upon assembled Rome
Now to swear, they shall forever close!"
They pass me by like shadows, crowds on crowds,
Dim ghosts of men, that hover to and fro, Hugging their bodies round them, like thin shrouds
Wherein their souls were buried long ago ; They trampled on their faith, and youth, and love
They cast their hope of humankind awayWith Heaven's clear messages they madly strove,
And conquered—and their spirits turned to clay : Lo! how they wander round the world, their grave,
Whose ever-gaping maw by such is fed, Gibbering at living men, and idly rave, “ We only truly live, but
ye are dead." Alas, poor fools! the anointed eye may trace A dead soul's epitaph in every face.
Parted thus, the combatants, with joy,
Mid the tumult, found the means to fly; In the stood the undaunted boy,
And, with looks adoring, gazed on high.
On the outward world relying,
Earthly treasures thou wouldst heap; Titled friends and lofty honors
Lull thy higher hopes to sleep.
Thou art stored with worldly wisdom,
All the lore of books is thine : And within thy stately mansion,
Brightly sparkle wit and wine.
Richly droop the silken curtains,
Round those high and mirrored halls; And on mossy Persian carpets,
Silently thy proud step falls. Not the gentlest wind of heaven
Dares too roughly fan thy brow, Nor the morning's blessed sunbeams
Tinge thy cheek with ruddy glow. Yet midst all these outward riches,
Has thy heart no void confessedWhispering, though each wish be granted,
Still, oh still I am not blessed ? And when happy, careless children,
Lured thee with their winning waysThou hast sighed in vain contrition,
Give me back those golden days. Hadst thou stooped to learn their lesson,
Truthful preachers—they had told Thou thy kingdom hast forsaken,
Thou hast thy own birthright sold.
The population of Lowell is constituted mainly of New Englanders, but there are representatives here of almost every part of the civilized world. The good-humored face of the Milesian meets one at al. most every turn,--the shrewdly solemn Scotchman, the trans-Atlantic Yankee, blending the crafty thrift of Bryce Snailsfoot with the stern religious heroism of Cameron,- the blue-eyed, fair-haired German, from the towered hills which overlook the Rhine, slow, heavy, and unpromising in his exterior, yet of the same mould and nettle of the men who rallied for “ Father-Land" at the Tyrtean call of Korner, and beat back the chivalry of France from the banks of the Katzbach-the countryman of Ritcher, and Goethe, and our sainted Follen. Here, too, are ped. lars from Hamburgh, and Bavaria, and Poland, with their sharp Jewish faces and black keen eyes. At this moment, beneath my window, are two sturdy, sun-browned Swiss maidens, grinding music for a livelihood, rehearsing in a strange Yankee land the simple songs of their old mountain home, reminding me by their foreign garb and language, of
“Lauterbrunnen's peasant girl." Poor wanderers !- I love not their music; but now as the notes die away, and, to use the words of Dr. Holmes, « silence comes like a poultice to heal the wounded ear," I feel grateful for their visitation.Away from the crowded thoroughfare, from brick walls and dusty avenues, at the sight of these poor peasants I have gone in thought to the vale of Chau. mony, and seen, with Coleridge, the Morning Star pausing on the « bald awful head of Sovran Blanc," and the sunrise and the sunset glorious upon snowycrested mountains, down in whose vallies the night still lingers and following in the track of Byron and Rousseau, have watched the lengthening shadows
Thou art heir to vast possessions,
Up, and boldly claim thine own : Seize the crown that waits thy wearingLeap at once into thy throne.
of the hills on the beautiful waters of the Genevan ple of England as my enemies, nor sympathize with lake. Blessings, then, upon these young wayfarers, that blustering sham-patriotism, which is ever exfor they have “blessed me unawares.” In an hour claiming, like the giant of the nursery tale : of sickness and lassitude, they have wrought for me
"Fee-faw.fum ! the miracle of Lorretto's chapel, and borne me away
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Dead or alive, I will have some." from the scenes around me and the sense of personal suffering, to that wonderful land where Nature seems I remember that the same sun which shines upon still uttering, from lake and valley and mountains England's royalty and priestcraft, streams also into whose eternal snows lean on the hard blue heaven, the dusty workshop of Ebenezer Elliot-rests on the the echoes of that mighty hymn of a new-created drab coat of the Birmingham Quaker Reformerworld, when “ the morning stars sang together, and greets 0 Connell through the grates of his prison all the sons of God shouted for joy!”
-glorifies the grey locks of Clarkson, and gladdens But of all classes of foreigners the Irish are by far the heroic-hearted Harriet Martineau, in her sick the most numerous. They constitute a quiet and in-chamber at the mouth of the Tyne. With heart and dustrious portion of the population; and are conse- soul I respond to the sentiments of Channing, when quently respected by their Yankee neighbors. For speaking of a foreign nation : «That nation is not myself, I confess I feel a sympathy for the Irishman. an abstraction to me; it is no longer a vague mass; I see him as the representative of a generous, warm-it spreads out before me into individuals, in a thouhearted and cruelly oppressed people. That he loves sand interesting forms and relations; it consists of his native land--that his patriotism is divided—that husbands and wives, parents and children, who love he cannot forget the claims of his mother island- one another as I love my own home; it consists of that his religion, with all its abuses, is dear to him-affectionate women and sweet children ; it consists does not decrease my estimation of him. A stran. of Christians, united with me to the common Savior, ger in a stange land, he is to me always an object and in whose spirit I reverence the likeness of his of interest. The poorest and rudest has a romance divine virtue ; it consists of a vast multitude of labor. in his history. Amidst all his apparent gayety of ers at the plough and in the workshop, whose toils I heart, and national drollery and wit, the poor emi sympathize with, whose burden I should rejoice to grant has sad thoughts of the would mother of him,” lighten, and for whose elevation I have pleaded ; it sitting lonely in her solitary cabin by the bog-side- consists of men of science, taste, genius, whose writrecollections of a father's blessing, and a sister's ings have beguiled my solitary hours, and given life farewell are haunting him-a grave-mound in a dis- to my intellect and best affections. I love this natant churchyard, far beyond the “wide wathers," hastion : its men and women are my brothers and sisan eternal greenness in his memory-for there per
ters." haps lies a «- darlint child,” or arswate crather” who once loved him,—the New World is forgotten for the moment-blue Killarney and the Liffy sparkle be
THE STRUGGLE FOR FAME. fore him—Glendalough stretches beneath him its
BY CHARLES MACKAY. dark still mirror-he sees the same evening sunshine rest upon and hallow alike with Nature's blessing If thou wouldst win a lasting fame; the ruins of the Seven Churches of Ireland's apos- If thou th' immortal wreath wouldst claim, tolic age, the broken mound of the Druids, and the And make the Future bless thy name; Round Towers of the Phenician sun-worshippers, beautiful and mournful recollections of his home
Begin thy perilous career, waken within him and the rough and seemingly
Keep high thy heart, thy conscience clear, careless and light-hearted laborer melts into tears.
And walk thy way without a fear. It is no light thing to abandon one's own country And if thou hast a voice within and household gods. Touching and beautiful was That ever whispers, “Work and win, the injunction of the Prophet of the Hebrews : “ Ye
And keep thy soul from sloth and sin: shall not oppress the stranger, for ye know the heart of the stranger, seeing that ye were strangers in the
If thou canst plan a noble deed, land of Egypt.”
And never flag till it succeed, I love my own country-I have a strong New
Though in the strife thy heart should bleed: England feeling : but I am no friend of that narrow
If thou canst struggle day and night, spirit of mingled national vanity and religious intol
And, in the envious world's despite, erance, which, under the name of « Native Ameri
Still keep thy cynosure in sight: canism,” has made its appearance among us. erence man, as man. De he Irish or Spanish, black If thou canst bear the rich man's scorn: or white, he is my brother man. I have no prejudi- Nor curse the day that thou wert born, ces against other nations- I cannot regard the peo- To feed on chaff, and he on corn: