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That there should be no private salaried servants allowed to tamper with the courts. That all cases should come reg- ularly before the courts and be disposed of in their reg- ular order by the proper court officials paid only by the state. In such case, the corporations and the rich would have no advantage over the poor — all cases being equal to the court — and they would not be able to monopo- lize the courts by their 07vn lawyers, paid with their own money, to do what they wanted done. If you speak to a lawyer on this subject he« will blandly tell you he studied law, graduated from a law college, in order to make it his business. He is ready to defend any case, be it a case of guilt or innocence, for money. While realizing that it is not for me ' 'to set the crooked straight" I excuse myself for meddling by pointing to the precedent that it was one of my distinguishd forefathers who helped build the law of the Romans.* As to the poem itself I have little to say, save that this is the second time it has been written. The first time was when I first began my * A Latin treatise on law by Glanvile is spoken of in Spalding's English Literature. courtship of the Muses, and not becoming known to Fame at once, I gathered together this and several others and consigned them to the flames, vowing to write no more. Perhaps some might say it were better to have kept my vow, or to have burned this also, but, nHmporte, if it does no other good than to relieve my memory of its burden that shall be worth its little cost — for I war- rant the reader now it is put forth I shall be one of the first to forget it, A. GLANVILLE. May 6th, 1897. (( AN EYE FOR AN EYE." The worthy priest bent with his years entered the prison cell, Of christian love and charity the prisoner to tell; But on an ear to merey deaf his kindly sentence fell; And on a spirit tempered with the bitterness of hell. The mark of Cain was on the brow, the lip was turned in scorn — He seemed more wronged than wronger as the. prisoner stood that morn Like one defiant, not in fear, and told an angry tale, How love and hope and joy and fear had passed beyond the pale: AN EYE FOR AN EYE. 8 On England's rugged coast there stood a cottage years ago, And seasons came apace and went with crippled step and slow; The springtime changed to summer and to au- tumn's foggy rain And winter's dreary sleet that beat upon the window pane. And nestling stood the village round while wind- ing on between The pathway led the eye along to where the church was seen; Upon the strand old Neptune spread the blue cloak that he wore, Which summer sprinkled with the sails she scat- tered from the shore. Away to the right the hill stood out with mossed and hazled side, As though some robe of shaggy fur would na- ture's bareness hide — While further to the right what seemed a shoul- der bare to be, The white and barren cliff sank down into the bubbling sea. AN EYE FOR AN EYE. I loved a maiden living in that cottage by the sea, And I was all to her and she was all in all to me; Since boy and girl our love had changed not with the changing years, 'We gladly mingled smiles with smiles and ming- led tears with tears. Dame fortune ne'er in this small spot had shown a lavish hand — No riehes of the world nor that which riches could command, No paintings old and boasting of an artist known to fame, But happiness made glad the home that little else could claim. No gems to add their beauty to what nature fashioned fair. But costumed neat my love was sweet whatever she might wear. So Phoebus kissed the morning mist and love was on the hill, And rosy was the future hope and youth was in the will. 10 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. And deep I walked the winding drift and knew no enemy, I swung the hammer and the pick and sang the miners' glee; I rained the blows upon the gad that split the stubborn ore, Aye, rough the hand at eve that raised the latch upon the door. So deep we sought the hidden tin we heard the ocean roar* Far o'er our heads when storm- tossed waves were hurled upon the shore — Unthought all sounds save pence and pounds and what the brawn could earn, As down the drowsy candle did the steady hours burn.f No parasite was I, father, a worker at the side Of other workers whom the world had roughly tossed and tried. We asked no favors of the world, but while the candle burned We valiant fought the battle for the wages that we earned. *Dicken's Child's History of England. tMmers' way of telling time. AN EYE FOR AN EYE. ii So passed the days along betwixt our love and labor filled, And balanced seemed the heavenly spheres and all as God had willed. I kissed the lips of my promised bride and youth was in the will And the moonbeams kissed the twilight mist and love was on the hill. Aye, life went laughing onward like the pure purling stream. And golden days and jeweled nights made up our happy dream — With hearts awake to looks that spake what nev er a lip could say. So cupid wooed with merry mood and all the world was gay. O! siren scenes of fate that float before my vis- ion yet! O bitter curse of memory! O could I but for- get!— And in the prisoner's countenance his love and anger met, And hate and pity seemed to echo "could I but forget!" 12 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. But then a gleam came in his eye, and scorn insatiate, For hearts that hotly love are hearts that just as hotly hate, And from his raised arm the good priest sank back with affright As in impassioned wrath he rose to full his man- hood's height: Cursed be the day or damned the night that marked one villain's birth Whose craven life was spent to spoil the pure of the earth — No absolution for such souls! to everlasting hell Down may he sink, down, down, as far as ever satan fell ! For such a villain was, father, and such a vil- lain came Upon this happy life of ours all free from breath of blame; Nor far removed his low desires above the prowling beast, His form was all from lower species nature had released. AN EYE FOR AN EYE. 13 He came, he loved my love — for that I blamed him not, For more of beauty was hers, father, than came to the common lot; He loved her? no! such villains ne'er know what true love may be, For his heart was rolled in his yellow gold and only his lust was free. But he was nothing to her, father nor could he ever be, For the love of the maiden living in the cottage by the sea. Her honest love was mine alone and never a prince or king With gilded part could win her heart whatever the offering. And she told him no, and bade him go but he laughed in his meaning way, And flattered her still against her will and fol lowed her day by day, Till her woman's heart grew sore afraid and filled with a vague alarm. But I laughed at the thought that his coward heart would dare to work us harm. 14 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. So her heart grew free as she laughed with me and the lingering kiss was sweet, When we said good-night 'neath the pale moon- light and whispered when next we'd meet— And whispered when next we'd meet, and whis- pered when next we'd meet — We thought not how one would be cold in death in the hour when next we'd meet ! O where shall love abide, father, when face and form are gone? The voice we list and the lips we kissed and the cheek as red as dawn — ■ When these have run the glass, I say, and the empty world is wide, And living signs have vanished, father, where doth love abide? We whispered when again we'd meet, I recked not of the pain, But in my heart, 'tis here, father, and it is in my brain — His lust engendered passion was afired with an- ger's breath, He could not move her honor so he sent her to her death! AN EYE FOR AN EYE. 15 Aye, in the grime of a coward's crime he sank his bastard soul — He threw her body o'er the cliff into the bil- lows' roll. And many an other eye than mine through blinding tears did note The marks of his damned fingers on my sweet- heart's lily throat. Fair was the day she rowed away as a thousand times before, Nor hint of death in the sighing breath which hung around the shore; But her boat came drifting back alone, nor oar was in the thole, And the saddened waves brought sobbing in her body 'thout her soul. And all my life grew sudden dark as night with- out a ray; Within my heart love's blaze died down into the ashes gray. I only know I staggered on as one might blind- ly grope, For the hand that struck my love away had murdered, too, my hope. i6 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. Love's June had passed and August, too, and winter 'gan to mould His icy cone around my heart that grew so deathly cold, Till like a sudden conflagration's breath insa- tiate My life burst forth with thought of him into a burning hate. My passion ran the full, father, for life was young and strong, And hate was burning in my heart for him who did the wrong — I lost my love and hope, father, my love and ' hope — what then? I swore I'd track the demon down if e'er he lived with men! Calm thyself, the father said, give not away to hate. We needs must let the wrongs of life to Him who guideth fate. •'Vengence is mine" hath said the Lord; your heart and mine will find That one hath suffered more than all and yet his heart was kind. \ <. AN EYE FOR AN EYE. 17 Aye, so they told me then, and so they calmed my passion then. They begged me leave it to the courts and to their chosen men; They mocked me saying "wrong's avenged with- in the prison-pen", They mocked me when they said "truth crushed to earth will rise again". But they inclined me to their way and much against my will, For my heart did feel like tempered steel that anger edged to kill; And I put my thoughts aside, father, and trusted in the law. And put the hope of my revenge into a Croesean maw! Then slowly came the weary train of justice' dull detail, Warrants, writs, and witnesses, that make a tedious tale; And some were bought with the gold he brought from the counter and the bourse, When they brought the wretch before the bar that the law might have its course. i8 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. Ah, yes! the law did have its course, but justice was'nt there, For wage and wealth is linked, father, in law as everywhere; And barristers know as well as he who wears the judge's gown, That the man to praise is he who lays the cold, hard guineas down. For law doth try the word of man and gold doth buy the word, And poverty's hope for a verdict fair is pov- erty's hope deferred. Law's learned, persuasive eloquence is on the market list, And he may buy whose bid is high and hath the gilded grist. When learning shall defend a lie, I say away with schools, 'Twere better far an unlearned world filled up with honest fools; 'Tis said woe came to him who hid his talent in the ground, But what of him who shines it up and sells it for a pound? AN EYE FOR AN EYE. 19 And so he brought the legal talent of an evil day, To use their legal eloquence to brush the truth away; They knew full well the secret of the labyrinth of laws, And straight they sent the argument against a righteous cause. Nor scarce nor strange the bold exchange of money for a lie — They buy, they sell, the thoughts of hell al- though the price is high; And he threw the curse of his bribing purse to greed and poverty. Their souls they sold for the murderer's gold and gave him — liberty! They set him free from all but me, but I sware by hell below And heaven above and every form of oath that lip doth know That I would live to lay his craven figure at my feet, And pityless my hopeless heart that he some° time would meet! 20 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. An eye for an eye, this was my cry as I went to rest at night, An eye for an eye, this was my cry as I rose with the morning light; The hatred kept aburning, burning, ever in my mind, While day by day I worked beside my partners rough but kind. They thought that I would soon forget and love would wake again. They thought that I would bear the wrongs of life as other men. They thought that I, as other men, would curse life's wrong and strife, And then go on enduring wrong and live op- pression's life. My love Avas dead, my hope was fled, and stretched the darkness on, The law had played me traitor, too — so far the game had gone: And now it came my turn to deal, and I played my hand with care. And blood was in the shuffle for the game had notJ^een fair! AN EYE FOR AN EYE. 21 I kept my council to myself, but dull my hatred burned, Afresh with fuel fed as oft as thoughts of him returned; My keen revenge had edged with time when came the day I longed — My heart was stone when we met alone, the wronger and the wronged. I scorned him living and scorned him dead, and finished that was planned. An eye for an eye, this was my cry as he sank before my hand — I plunged my dagger in his heart and threw him in the sea. And they put me in the prison cell with the gallows over me. What then? — why, it is plain what then, for I could boast no friend With riches and with influence my plain case to defend — And what cared I if I might buy the men who dealt the law — My life is dark, my death is light e'en through the gallow's draw. 22 AN EYE FOR AN EYE. So slight a thread doth hold the joys of this fast fleeting life, And happy is he on land or sea with home and babe and wife, Who knoweth every day to love, by sweet hope to be led, Nor gropes his way through a sunless day where hope and love are dead. Again there came the morning sun and smiled with kindly care Between the bars of the prison cell, but found no prisoner there, For the soul had gone before the dawn and the morning light fell o'er The prisoner's body cold in death upon the prison floor. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 23 NATURE THE GREAT PREACHER. God's voice is harmonious and sweet in- deed. He speaks through the spring blossoms. He whispers in the breeze that rustles the new leaves. The opening flowers send up their sweet incense to Him. This is not fancy, for the Lord is not only Lord of men but "Lord of all." The Lord is not a dweller in tents nor tab- ernacles, and the church is not large enough for Him. "He plants His footsteps in the sea and rides upon the storm." He resteth among the trees of the forest; He walks over the hills and He loves the flowers. Did not His prophet say, "Consider the lilies"? He spake not so plain to Solomon in the temple as to David in in the fields; where David sang his sweet songs — to the stars? Ah, no! but where his soul sang to the Greater Soul that ruled the stars. St. John heard the divine voice on the Isle of Patmos, and Savonarola at Ferara. Burns heard it on the banks of Ayr and Shak- speare on the banks of Avon. The most beau- 24 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. tiful thing ever written, Psalm xxiii, does it not say "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still wa- ters"? Be not afraid of your own meditations, O friend. Solitude has made more grand men than society. Go forth into the sunshine of God's friendship; as a laborer resteth beneath the boughs of a summer tree, so rest thou in the shelter of a Father's love. Forget thy teach- er's precepts. Gut loose from all creeds and dogmas. Think, examine, prove for thyself. What thou findest that is beautiful, good, true, store it away in thy heart. What thou findest that, in the light of history and reason, is false, put aside though it be that which thou hast held dear for three-score years. But, you say, what will you give us for this that nas been our staff and our comfort in days past? I an- swer, the truth: do you desire more than this? TAKE ALL. Since thou hast won my hope and heart In love's sweet, languid game. Take now — wilt thou? — mine only part That's left to lose- -my name. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 25 MEDITATION WHILE SITTING NEAR A CONVENT. Is good philosophy bad business? Is the Mooial tie a mistake? Is there weakness in un- ion? and contamination in the touch of broth- ers and sisters? Is the house that God himself built not good enough for his servants? I thank God I am not too good for this world — this beautiful world — where I have seen His handwriting in the woods, where the flowers bloom, the birds sing, and the stars play hide and seek with the summer clouds. I find no fault because the rain falls upon the just and the unjust, and I judge not the thief who robs me, for I know not whether the fault be his or his parents', nor the necessity of his condition. Perhaps I should have given him my purse without compulsion; and, after all, if the earth be a common heritage, are not the fruits there- of his also as well as mine? It is easy to be good alone — shut in from all the world's sinfulness and wrong-doing — but thereby do we cut ourselves off from the field 26 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. and our harvest must rot in the stock. I like a brave man to face the world. Righteousness hath never feared the people. A closed house hath a suspicious look, and < 'a warm saloon is more comfortable than a cold church". Per- haps if some of us were Jess good and more helpful the world w^ould be the better for it. If we would follow our Master we need build no walls of brick and stone between us those He loved, and among whom He v^ent about do- ing good. Must it be a standing challenge that "every stoic was a stoic, but where in Christendom is the christian?" How futile are thy efforts, O dwellers within! '■^Nul ne se derobe dans ce monde au del bleu, aux arbres verts, a la nuit sombre, au bruit dii vent, au chant des oiseaux. Aucune creature ne pent s'^abstraire de la creati07i.^^ Was it not the happiest moment in the life of Goldsmith's hermit when the love of his youth came back to him? — No, never, from this hour to part, We'll live and love so true, The sigh that rends thy constant heart Shall break thy Edwin's, too. It is the duty of no man to live apart from mankind. It would be well for you to think that "virtue is not heriditary"; and "if we believe SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 27 the powers of hell to be limited we must be- lieve their agents to be under some control"; and to know that the sum of sacrifice is not made up so much of a few heroic dangers as it is of little tortures. Better far receive the praise of one wise man than the applause of all the fools. You will find more joy on the rough path of hon- esty than that of refined deception; and know also that it is not how long we live but how much. Ask thyself, O ye who would hold aloof from the world, as we uplift God do we also rise? or as we establish him farther in the heavens are we putting Him farther from us? As we make Him more spiritual do we make Him more spectral? Will He become a ghost to us? Lose not thyself so much in the solitary pursuit of the unseen, but come near unto the people, for they can do without thee far better than thou canst do without them: then also will you find your Guide as well as theirs. Hold thou thy good: define it well; For fear divine Philosophy Should push beyond her mark, and be Procuress to the Lords of Hell. 28 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. VIRTUE. It is an evident fact he who adds to the happiness of his fellow beings is a good man; that he who adds more to their happiness is a better man; that he who adds most to their happiness is the best of men. Happiness is the test of virtue as it is the ever-following effect of it. If the effect of a virtuous act is felt not by myself but by my brother it is no less an act of virtue; if the effect be not immediate, somewhere, sometime it will be manifest. To judge one's conduct by the effect it has on the doer is to judge selfishly; we can only trulj judge by considering its effect on all. Christ's life was a life of virtue not because it was hap- py in itself—for who bore more griefs than He? —but because it saved men from everlasting damnation and terror, and opened wide the doors of heaven and peace and joy to all men forever. Hence Christ's life is said to be the model at which all honest men will look, for who can conceive of bringing more happiness to mankind than eternal happiness? Though SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 29 none can be as sublime as He, though he was the Light of the World,we all' can, in our lowly way, be lesser lights. Perhaps we cannot hope to be a Paul, a Luther, a Milton or a Washing- ton, and like an undimmed star live for all time and all men, but we can at least, though we be common mortals, sit at our own fireside and add to the enjoyment of those around us by our good- will and cheerfulness. Humility becomes most men better than grandeur. All men were not born to be great but undoubtedly all were born to be good, else evil would have the approbation of the wise, and good would be shunned by the godly. Virtue creates its own heaven as vice does its own hell. Vice has its pleasures of brutalism and. sensuality but they are as brief as the rose that blooms and dies even as we gaze upon it. Who follows vice is first haunted by his conscience, then made wretched by contem- plating the loss of all that was worthy of noble effort, and memory, in his latter days, is preyed upon by remorseful demons that make his life a curse. Go follow it, all fools, for its reward! True men will follow virtue that brings to its possessor that nobleness which is the keynote of an honored life: who has it loves all men, to himself is true, and is already entering into 30 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. that heaven which knows no sorrowing heart. His life is like the goodly tree, beautiful in its early bloom, loved for its usefulness, and grand with its load of ripened fruit. He is the at- traction round which a little world revolves: by example he sways, perhaps unconsciously, the lives of those with whom his lot is cast; to them he is the light and the way. REFLECTIONS ON THE FALL OF MR. Popularity is as blinding as the glitter of gold. So few look back of the sunshine into the shadow of things. It is mystifying to learn how few people know what they live for. As an experiment, ask your friends what they have planned to accomplish during three-score years and ten — the allotted time of man— and learn as. a result, how many live for themselves and the day, and how few for mankind and the years. And yet is all preaching, all moral SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 31 writing, all philosophy, all religion forever saying that real happiness is the follower of goodness, and goodness is virtue and honesty active in the service of the race. It is so easy to give advice, so inconvenient to do things. It is a popular criticism against ministers and moralists that they tell you of the need and expect you to do what they have not the heart to attempt. There are a multi- tude of advisers, but few leaders. Evil things are evil anywhere and always; and, indeed, when we speak of them a whisper is heard afar off. We need not publish in black headlines the unholy things of the earth. Those who have the desire will know them soon enough. Far better would it be were we so active in concealing them as we are in hold- ing them up to ridicule; far better to fill up the columns of our papers and books with applause for the meritorious than blame for the un- righteous. They are some of the "least of these my brethren." But blessed is he who is so chivalrous as to be the defender of virtue and the upholder of what is pure and noble. Yes, blessed is he, for women are not and can never be, the ones to purify the earth. The uplifting of the world depends upon the purity of men. As long as men think it 32 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. manly to overcome and drag down the virtue of womanhood; as long as courtship and mar- riage is held to be so flippant a thing, so long will social conditions continue as they are. When men shall learn that nobleness is made up of valor and purity in equal parts; w^hen their souls are touched with love instead of lust; when they are defenders, not betrayers of maidenhood and womanhood— then, and not till then, will come the reorganization and up- building of the social system. A RHYME. Time is nothing, heroes live For ages in an hour. 'Tis something, too, for who would give For withered stalk the flower? But how love resembles time Is no riddle hard to guess; Quick it falls in running rhyme — Love and time are measureless. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 33 THE MYSTIC SCENE. While sojourning in a certain place, one beautiful day I was strolling along a delight- fully green meadow meditating on the mani- fold beauty of nature, now and then stopping to listen to the songs of the birds, or stooping to pluck some modest wild flower, when com- ing in the course of my walk beneath a grand old shade tree which grew beside the pathway, I stretched myself upon the fresh grass and taking a volume of Addison from my pocket began reading "The Vision of Mirza." I became drowsy and soon fell asleep, and dreamed the following singular dream: While walking in the same valley an old, gray-haired man carrying a stout walking-stick, accosted me. Politeness being the child of lei- sure, and reverence for old age part of a gentle- man's duty, we conversed on divers topics and was passing the time agreeably when, breaking in upon my thoughts rather abruptly, he asked if I had ever looked upon the Mystic Scene, which, he said, might be viewed from the sum- mit of the hill which he pointed out to the 34 SOME REPRINTED PIECES, right. Upon my answering in the negative he seemed surprised, and upon my saying that I had not before heard of it, astonished. "If you will be pleased to view it," said he, "I will accompany you, and point it out, and, as I have many times seen it and heard it spoken of, I may be able to interpret it to you." Gladly accepting his proffered kindness, we started in the direction of the hill and soon reached the top, for my companion though my senior by many a year was still vigorous, and seemed as little wearied as I upon reaching our destination. "This way," said he, "to the left." Looking in the direction in which his finger pointed 1 saw not far beyond us a city — of which we had a kind of bird's eye view — and in the midst of the city was what seemed to be a public square or park. Occupying a con- spicuous 2:)lace among a group of beautiful buildings on one side of this j^ublic square was one surpassing them all in grandeur, which, my companion informed me, was the ruler's man- sion, round which were clustered the legislative halls, all of which were connected with the public square or park by numerous little paths and by-ways. This public square was filled with an innumerable throng of people that seemed to be divided into several parties or SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 35 factions, and among each party or faction were a small number particularly noticeable. In confusion of mind I turned to my companion who spoke as follows: <'The city, I am told, represents an ancient nation of which the conspicuous buildings you have noticed are the capitol. The crowd of people separated into different parties are the elective portion of the nation's population. Those who are particularly noticeable are the chosen representatives of their respective par- ties, and are endeavoring with the aid of their followers to gain an entrance into the capitol and legislative halls, aiid thus get possession of the government. They who have the larg- est number of followers at a specified time will be admitted to the positions they seek and will be the honored rulers of the people. Ob- serve and you will see the manner of proceed- ing." Turning again and watching intently the throng of people I saw a number of persons going from one to another and from place to place, exhorting them to some purpose, en- deavoring undoubtedly to change their opin- '^ions and win them from one side to the other. Another mode was, in the words of my com- panion, "trading a number of the common peo- 36 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. pie for one of the leaders.'* "But," said I, "is this not betraying the people?" "Indeed it is," said he, "and we may congratulate ourselves that such infidelity to the (jommon weal oc- curred only in the ancient times." Still an- other mode employed was the distributing of a kind of metal coin, which seemed to pass for an article of worth among the people, upon the receipt of which a number of persons left the one side for the other. This method, the old man said, was used only by those who were both rich and dishonest, and never, nor could be, by the honorable or those embarrassed by pecuniary circumstances; "this mode," said he, "I understand is practiced in politics even to this day." Again observing closely I noticed that one party was rapidly increasing in numbers while another, which was worthy of note because of its honorable actions toward the people, which were manifested by their not persuading them over much, but leaving them the liberty of personal choice, neither using any dishonest method, lost many by the persuasive oratory of the opposition and many by the coin, and not employing these methods in return, the number they won was small in comparison with the number they lost: and to my astonishment SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 37 this party which seemed the most worthy be- gan to fall behind, while those using other means than they seemed to promise fair to gain the desired end. As time passed and the sun began falling in the west, the excitement of the crowd seemed rather to increase than to diminish. I was about to speak to my compan- ion when I observed a great commotion among those in the square, and immediately some left and went to different parts of the city. The majority, however, manifested great delight, as those frequently do who have been winners in certain games; and to my astonishment, I beheld the representative of that party which had not scrupled to use any and all means for the accomplishment of its purpose, conducted midst the waving of plumes and the fluttering of flags into the ruler's mansion. Turning to my companion I asked, "what is the meaning of this Mystic Scene?" "This," said he, "represents the survival of the fittest in politics." GRANT. 'Tis well indeed some sign that meets the eye Should show to other lands we love the brave, But as for us no monument needs send Its finger- point toward our azure sky Lest we forget his erstwhile lonely grave*, America hath ne'er forgot a friend! 38 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. SUTHERS' SAFE. "I was clerking for Tom Sutliers when it happened," said the speaker, and we Settled ourselves comfortably to hear the story. It was no esj^ecial gathering, quite the opposite; we were' in the habit of dropping in the postoffice, which was — as in most country towns — postof- fice and general store in one, of an evening to spend an idle hour or so. Sometimes we talked politics, sometimes war, somtimes religion, generally the little end of everything, and precious little good it ever brought to any of us. This jDarticular evening somehow the con- versation had drifted on to heroism, what the common people — which class we seldom talked about at all — did or would do under dangerous circumstance, when Tom, the postmaster, de- cided to give us a scrap of his own experience. "I was a young fellow when I began clerk- ing," he continued, "and besides counting eggs and weighing sugar, one of my duties was to sleep in the store at night; or rather to stay in the store, for I don't think Suthers cared whether I slept any or not. He was a %• SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 39 peculiar kind of a aian, and would have had little custom had he any opposition; but as it was Suthers, nothing, or ten miles to the next town, it was Suthers. Well, one of his queer ideas was that a little iron safe that he had in the corner was burglar- proof; and if he had a million dollars, you know, it had been just like him to put it in that safe, tell everybody of it, and go to the land's end, having the idea that no one on earth could touch his money but himself. I was to sleep in the store at night ; I suppose it was so that I might be there early in the morning; but while I had less faith in the security of Suthers' safe than he had, I wasn't at all alarmed over the situation for two reasons: that nothing in the nature of a rob- bery had happened in the village since my re- collection; and, that we never had enough money in the store to be any temptation to a decent burglar anyhow. "I had my share of conceit, of course, and I didn't think that I could be any more easily scared than the next one; besides, I took especial pride in my skill in handling the revolver, and I openly boasted that if any burglars ever came into Suthers' store I would put out their head- light with neatness and dispatch. Well, the time dragged along as usual, adding little to 40 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. my salary or experience, and I bad towatch the calendar to tell Tuesday from Thursday. Noth- ing extraordinary happened on the day of the robbery. 1 opened the store as usual, swept out, took in a little produce, sold a few things during the day, Suthers took his daily nap by the stove, the money was counted and put in the little safe in the corner, and I closed up for the night. Blowdng out all the lights but one, as I always did, I took a novel and sat down to read. I can't say how long I sat there. I know that I was interested and read until I was very sleepy, and about the last thing I knew was that the oil in the lamp was nearly all gone and the light was getting dim. Then I suppose I fell asleep, for I remember nothing from that time until — " "Tom," said one of the party, with a back- ward throw of the head, "somebody wants the mail." 'Somebody' had entered, not for the purpose, I suppose, of interrupting the story, but it did so. We settled ourselves more comfortably, refilled o u r pipes, recrossed our legs, and awaited Tom's return. <'Where was I," said he, taking his place. "You went to sleep," I said. "O yes! Well, the first thing I knew was SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 41 that there was some one in the store. I don't know what woke me, but I awoke and was con- scious that I was not the only one there. The first thing I did — and the most natural thing in the world, I suppose — was to keep still — and listen; and I was not long in dicovering that there were two or three persons besides myself in the store. I couldn't see anybody or any- thing except the front of that little iron safe in the corner, on which was thrown the light of a bull's eye lantern. I was sufficiently awake now to take in the situation. The store was being robbed! Now, gentlemen, I'll be hon- est; I was scared. You want to remember that it was sometime along the middle of the night; it was pitch dark, and there is always some- thing in darkness that takes away a little of a man's valor. There were two burglars, how desperate I could not tell. I had my revolvers, it's true, but I had fired off one of them a day or so before and had forgotten which one it was. "What was I to do? I made up my mind to get out of there as soon as possible. For- tunately for me they were so intent with their work that I crept along towards them — for the door was only a few feet from the safe — with- out being heard. If I could reach the door in 42 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. safety, rush out, there was a chance of escape; otherwise there was none, as they would, as a matter of course, take all that was convenient and of any value from the store. In my excite- ment I had instinctively grasped one of my re- volvers, but aside from this, my hopes rose as I neared the door. I was yet creeping stealth- ily along when to my utter consternation, look- ing up, I saw another guarding the doorway! My chance was gone. There was only one thing to do now, to pluck up courage and de- fend myself and Suthers' safe. "I fixed my eyes on the door of that little safe in the corner and began to watch. I could see the bar being moved around the door of the safe, and at last it gave way and the door was taken off. 'Here's some silver, anyway,' I heard one of them say, and having planned my actions I rose and said as boldly as possible, *and you had better not handle it, it's danger- ous I' Now I have no doubt in my mind of their being frightened. They made a rush for the door, then stopped--! have thought since they sup}>osed that others were waiting for them outside; but I tried my revolver and it happened I had the loaded one. I fired the five charges as they dashed out through the open door. So far I was conqueror, and taking ad- SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 43 vantage of the opportunity to close the door, I did so hastily, relocked it and rolled one of the barrels against it. Then I walked up and down that floor with my hair on end till morn- ing. At last I heard steps coming up the side- walk, on to the porch, and somebody shook the door. *< 'Who's there?' I yelled. "Something was said w^hich I failed to make out, and without lowering my voice in the least I said, 'if you open that door I'll blow the top of your head off.' " 'What's the matter with you? open the door' came back in a voice that with a genuine thrill of pleasure I recognized as Suthers'. " 'I opened the door and together we be- gan an investigation. Suthers' safe was a wreck beyond repair, and Suthers could not have more utterly collapsed had the moon fallen upon him; pursuit of the burglars was un- thought of; the fact of his having nothing stol- en was n o consolation. Suthers' safe was busted! I left him sitting in a chair, an object for the hardest heart to pity, and went out to take a glance at the front. I must have struck some- of them for there were drops of blood on the sidewalk. 44 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. NAPOLEON'S SOLILOQUY AT ST. HELENA. Who is there dares to say what greatness thought? And when the fires of genius stirs the mind Its aerial flights are not for little wings: And I who lived not' in Napoleon's time, Unfashioned by the ethics of his age, Do only speak the words ujDon the scroll By wandering Muses writ, who heard him run The gamut of his passion to the full, As by that fated isle they passed when 'twas A falien emperor's prison; Fame, thou art The mirage of the world. Yet for a glimpse Of thee what will not men attempt or dare To do? How many weary travellers Hast thou drawn on through life's deep mystery To vanish when came blighting, adverse winds, And leave thy victim on life's desert lost. 'Tis then adversity her sable cloak Doth cast over all scenes around, and death Is rather to be born than failure's sting. 'Tis then the stars that once transcendent shone, SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 45 And rolled in splendor through the realms of night, Obscure move across a hazy sky. And how oft 'tis adversity doth make A man a villain: once loved, now hated; once held In admiration by the great, now spurned E'en by his old-time slaves! Once blessed, now cursed— The vassal of ambition and its prey. O fame! how oft where thy bright hues were thrown Athwart the sky do mournful shadows come! Thou art the emptiest of all earthly prizes That ever tempt men on. Yet is it well That it is so, for idleness is not The dress of duty nor the robe of honor. But ah! the taste of victory. To sip The mead of popular applause; to have The cheek fanned by the breath of majesty; To feel the wand of power in the grasp — Here are the sweet, seductive bribes held out To honesty, that, if they stick, may change A modest virtue to a swelling greed. Kind Flattery! Thou necromancer sweet! Whose perfumed hand doth make the virtuous, villains: 46 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. Kings, despots. Is't tlius that I have changed? Who would not risk a life to win a world? It was my part in the eternal game To gamble with the fates. I Avon, I lost; But losing lost more than I e'er had won. Ne'er since the sun, O traitorous ambition, Was set to rule the universe hath been A follower more true to thee than I. Through ruins where the hovering spirits mocked As forth they peered from out the midnight shades; Through bloody scenes of desolation with Earth, hell and heaven in slaughter mixed, I kept Abreast with thee, and for my faithfulness Thou offerest an io;nominious death! Torn from my friends. Feared though unhon- ored, even The beasts may move unchallenged where I have Not leave to tread. This barren isle shall be Napoleon's doom and death. My fall hath robbed Me of my honesty, and like a thief I have my keeper too. This is a way To make nature the executioner And kill a man with kindness! And this for what? SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 47 Because I was myself. A crime so great Few men hath set against their names. I was Myself; and therein was I fool and ended In the sea. They have confined my body But Napoleon's soul is free! Such thoughts! To stir my harmless anger up and like A fool complain. It is my destiny: The clash of arms, the deafening cannon's roar, The screaming shell, the sound of musketry, The din of war, was music in my ears; Sweet sounds that hath no echo on this rock. I know not what the thickening shadows hide But this is plain: Our would-be mocks us all. What's past is past. Bring on, grim Future, soon, The period to this sentence of my life. PERFECTION. Be thou pure as the lily And as chaste as angels are — Be thou calm as is the stilly Night and steadfast as a star, Living sinless life; then I Could not love thee if I would. Thou art dearer when more nigh To my own earth heart less good. 48 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. THROUGH THE DESERT. Silver and gold! silver and gold! Thus is the care of the ages lold; This is the song of the palace and wold — Silver and gold! silver and gold! Silver and gold, how they gleam in the gloom, Guiding the footsteps of men! Far reached the desert as dreary as doom All 'round the Three Score and Ten. ^^ Ho for the mountain^ and Ho for the plain, ^^Ho for the hog or the fen! '•''Ho for the valley and shadoio of Gain, * * Onward! the Three Score and Ten. " Here, there and all around stretched the hot sand, Winds rose to blow and to blind. Measureless distance ahead of the band. Measureless distance behind. Merciless down fell the shafts of the sun. Making us stagger and swoon; Parched were our lips where water was none, Merciless rose the simoon. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 49 ^^ Silver and gold in the mountain and plain! *' Silver and gold in the glen! ^^ Ho for the valley and shadow of Gain! '-^Onward! the Three Score and Ten!"^^ Into a distance that never grew less, Toward a mirage that fled, Only our own selves to curse or to bless, Heavy our limbs were as lead. Weary the day and restless the night, Few were the words that we said; Close on our wake came the vulture and kite Seeking the weak and the dead. What is the glory of toiling in vain? What of the heroes who lose? What of embittered hearts dead on the main? What is the answer and whose? ^^ Seeh what you may and find what yoic can, ^'Such is the life of men! " Cursed is the desert and cursed is the clan, ^^ Onward! the Three Score and Ten!^' Silver and gold! silver and gold! Thus is the care of the ages told; This is the song of the palace and wold — Silver and gold! silver and gold! 50 SOME REPRINTED PIECES, THE GHOST. My young friend listen to this tale of woe and bleak despair: The night winds moan, the midnight bells sound ghostly through the air; Silence and gloom are in the room Together. Listen! Was that a footfall? No! 'twas but the wind's low moan; Brave where others are am I a coward when alone? No! What care I though shadows lie Around me? 'Twas but imagination that this passing fear awoke — Imagine thou'rt a slave and thy bonds, strong and firm as oak. Of unknown length and breadth and strength Are mighty. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 51 Away with loneliness and care! I'll fill the hours up With thoughts of pleasure and with quaffs from out the ruddy cup — Let none forsake the things that make Us happy! But dull the lamplight seemeth still with dis- mal scenes allied, And shadows beckon on the wall and sway from side to side; And hark! a moan, and then a groan Th' silence breaks! The lamplight languishes and fades, and noise= lessly the door Swings back, and through the darkness glides a spectre o'er the floor! Slowly it raised its arm and gazed Upon me. *'The grave may keep me and thy work from others' sight," it said, *'But back to thine own self, in silent moments, from the dead. Will I return and bid thee learn Of hell on earth. 52 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. "I bid thee think of days in years that long ago hath flown, When thou didst strike me down to go thy way though life alone; Ha, ha! thou slave! I made my grave In thine own heart! "And in that grave from all the world of pry- ing eyes shut in, I'll gnaw and tear the chords of peace in pay- ment of thy sin. Two lives thou livest and but one givest To thy friends! "And weuldst thou dwell in sweet content and joy and peace? Never! These bonds that make a heaven on earth I come, I come to sever! Until thy breath is stopped in death I'll haunt thee!" The voice grew still and the air seem chilled as passed the moments by. The form recedes — "Hold, who art thou?" in accents wild I cry; A silence, then '^Thy might have heerC Was echoed. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 53 THE GILDED GRIST. DIVES: Friend, it is no place to dream When you're drowning in the stream — Strength and charity doth wait upon the purse. Let the teardrops, thick as dew, Mark the pathway of the few, What is it to thee if people bless or curse? Neither can you fight for gold When the nerveless hands are old, 'Neath the banner of the ruler of the earth. Let us with one heart enlist For our share of gilded grist. For the world would know the money we are worth. THE POET. Rest is coming by-and-by, Ah, the grave! Nature will again come nigh That she gave; And my honor will they save For the annals of the brave, While thy name writ on the wave It shall die; Aye! thy name writ on the wave Naught can save, For thy naked soul shuns heaven like a knave! 54 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. GOD PURGE OUR POLITICS ! A PROPHECY. May God forbid that there should be, My native land, but love for thee And pride within my breast. But thy great battles are unfought. Thy sons' devotion in deed and thought Fierce struggles yet will test. Thou'rt young as nations live, nor we Should hide thy faults with flattery — Music in ears are dull; That stamps as truth what only seems, That makes realities of dreams, And honest doubting lulls. There is but one way to a life That's truly strong, and evils rife Must be cast off even Though they be rooted in the heart, And trials and strifes will be the part Of nations as of men. SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 55 And war will many a soul set free In the behalf of liberty Ere truth shall grandly lead. Peace guards corruption, but an end Will crashing come to ways that tend To avaricious greed. And men will buy their way to power And be the idols of the hour Where honor casts no beam; As long as men who think can see No menace to our liberty — As long as patriots dream! THE FLIRT'S MEDITATION. Back across the meadows Where the flowers died, Comes the trill o'er southern hill Through the countryside; And as one just after Dreamless slumbers break. Spring is 'twixt her doubtings mixt, Only half awake. 56 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. Not a song but sweeter Than a song could be — A note or two that echoes through The soul of you and me! Breathing forth a promise Of summer sun and shade, When daisies bright and lilies white Will bloom adown the glade. Who will mourn for winter With its snow and sleet? Who will wee}> when flowers j^eep The smile of spring to meet? And there is a happy- Charm to summer lent That's dear to me — I long to see The life of winter spent ! For who can whisper, robin. One sweet or tender word. When flowers are dead and birds are fled And never a chirp is heard? But time is sweetest music With never a note that mars. And life is bliss when lovers kiss Beneath the summer stars! SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 57 SINCE I MET YOU. Rosier is the morning, burnished By the hand of day, Brighter is the pathway furnished Phoebus on his way; Softer is the moonlight streaming High-winged cirrus through — Happier heart and sweeter dreaming Since I met you! Sweeter is the thrush's singing When the dew is deep, Sweeter memory's kiss aclinging On the lips of sleep. Redder is the rose, and whiter Is the lily true, And Endymion's smile is brighter Since 1 met you! Lovlier the damask plush is On the coated peach, While the harvest apple blushes At the farmer's reach; And the true-blue harebell never Had such lovely hue — Bat my heart is lost forever Since I met you! 58 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. AFFAIRE D'AMOUR. A MAGAZINE IDYL. O, he kissed me! Yes he did — On the cheek. And my falling lashes hid Eyes so meek. And the blood with quickening rush Changed the spot to rosy flush — O, what secrets in a blush Women sj)eak! Where the oak and ivy grown Round it twine, When the silver dewdrops shone On the vine, Said my lover "see yon star Hanging where the moonbeams are — *A11 is fair in love and war' Emeline!" And he kissed me while I gazed — Was it fair? Honest Gupid was amazed I declare. Modest maidens near and far, O, what stratagems there are! *'A11 is fair in love and war" So beware! SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 59 WHEN THE APPLE BLOSSOM'S FALLING. When the apple blossom's falling from the trees! And the petals flutter downward in the breeze; Then is sunshine overflowing All the flowers that are growing, And the bloom holds out its offering to the bees. Grandest time, some people call it, of the year; Then the humming birds and bobolinks appear; And there is a touch of blessing In the southern wind's caressing. With its whisperings of love, and warmth and cheer. Just before the lilacs burst into perfume — Standing there before the window in their bloom! And the whippoorwill is calling Where the meadow-stream is falling 'Neath the willow arched above it like a plume. When the warmth of youth forever from us flees. Memory's wings shall waft us back to days like these; 6o SOME REPRINTED PIECES. And again among the flowers Will we pass the golden hours, When the apple blossom's falling-from the trees! ALL IS WELL. Let the cold winds chilly blow, All is well, Let the frost come and the snow, All is well; God is King and guiding right, God is Love in bloom or blight, Let the storm rage at its height. All is well! Let the gloom of sorrow roll. All is well. Naught can overcome the soul. All is well; The stars are hid the night is cold But the lost without the fold Shall be found just as of old, All is well! SOME REPRINTED PIECES. 6i 1 LOVE THEE, MUSE, BUT LEAVE ME. Muse! thy voice comes to my spirit Sweetly sad, I know not why — Holds me trembling while I hear it, Happy with a sigh. Thou dost paint the rose-cheeked morning Sleeping on the eastern hill; In her hair, as gems adorning, Dewdrops sparkle still. With her pillowed cheek that presses Softly on her rounded arm, While her lips the dawn caresses With his breathings warm. Thou dost hold this up before me And dost snatch it down again, Bidding baser thoughts come o'er me Of the earth and men. And my winged fancy settles In among life's selfish things, 62 SOME REPRINTED PIECES. And I walk as one midst nettles, Feeling deep the stings. Muse, O leave me, I would follow Some pursuit of lower aim; Tempt some other with the hollow Vanishings of fame. O, that that content, completest In the soul that looks not high, Would come to me, for thy sweetest Song is half a sigh! But thou reachest farther, wider Than the limits of the sky; Thou hast bound me as the spider Binds the hapless flyl IN LAMECH'S REIGN. Translated from recently discovered and very valuable manuscript poetry of the Ante-Diluvians BY - A. GLANVILLE. "In Lamech's Reign is a Biblical poem of interest and merit."— Toledo Blade. "All the virtues, indeed, are so distinguished and ap- proved in Mr. Glanville's poem that we may well overlook some trifling errors."— JV. T. Sun. "In Lamech's Reign is, as its title suggests, a recital half epic, half dramatic in form, of deeds supposed to have talc- en place before the deluge The poem before us is grace- ful in style, and human in feeling. On every page you feel the charm of poetry, even though you cannot always define just where it lies. We quote Jubal's description of the des- cent of love to earth," etc.— The Stylus. "Mr. Glanville, following Mark Twain's joke in ascribing his history of Joan of Arc to a mythical Sieur Le Conte, would have us believe it a 'translation from antediluvian poetry' — The poem is founded on Biblical history, and relates the love affairs of the two sons of Lamech, Jubal, father of such as handle the harp and organ, and Tubal Cain, the mighty warrior and cunning artificer, and inci- dentally portrays three of the governing attributes of man- kind, Love, Ambition and Patriotism. The work shows considerable thought and a measure of poetic feeling."— Detroit Free Press. 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