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" "Rosanna, what are you going to do?' tree this summer and see if that won't find the "'I must tell my father.'

thief. I guess that you did n't try very hard to " " He'll be very angry. He'll send me away.' earn that dollar, eh, Rosy?' "I know he will, Richard.'

"Wall, not so very hard, father,' startin' « And I shall be all alone in the world again. toward the back door. 0, do n't tell him, Rosy, do n't!

“But before I got there a voice held me back. “But I must. It 'll seem as though I helped 'Do n't go, Rosy, I'm goin' to out with the truth to steal 'em if I do n't.'

now, let what will come,' and Richard Sears, "Was it really stealin' ?' and he asked the who was whittlin' out an arrow by the table, question doubtfully.

sprang up and went to my father and said to "Of course it was, Richard, and God is very him in an earnest, clear voice, though it shook angry with you,

for you know he's seen you if a little at the first words, 'Yes, Mr. Morris, Rosy father has n't.'

did try very hard to find out who the thief was, “The boy looked up to the sky a moment with though she would n't tell on him, when it proved à new, solemn awe in his face.

to be me, for I picked the pears. “I only thought it was good sport, Rosy,' he " 'I've been sorry enough for it ever since; said.

but I did n't really think I was stealin' then, and “I stood still, looking at him sorrowfully, and I've had a dollar laid up stairs in my green box at last he threw the pear on the ground.

two months for Rosy when I could get courage ""Do n't tell your father,' he said in a voice to tell you the truth.' so full of entreaty that the tears rushed into my "My father was completely dumbfoundered; eyes. “Do n't you remember, Rosy, the day you be opened his lips to speak and shut 'em again. went with me to the pond to get mint, and how At last he said 'Richard' in a stern voice, but you came near falling into the water and I jest mother's hand crept up softly on his arm, and her saved you, and what good times we 've had eyes were full of tears. “Now, father,' she said. together all summer, and how I have n't got any " That was all. He sat still a minute, and mother or any friends in the whole world except then he laid his hand on Richard's shoulder and your folks and you? Do n't tell your father, said. very kindly, 'Richard, you 've been a good, Rosv.'

faithful boy to me ever since you've been under "I sat down on a great stone in the grass and my roof, and I've grown a good deal attached cried. Richard cried, too. At last I slipped my to you, and because you 've owned the truth arm around his neck.

about them pears when there was no need for it, "No, I won't tell my father, Richard, if I 'll forgive you, and we 'll never speak of it yon 'll promise never to do so again, and to ask again.'” God to forgive you for this great sin.'

Here my grandmother suddenly broke down. "I'll ask him, but he knows that I did n't The knife, and the half-cleaved pepper fell to the think that it was really stealin',' and I knew that floor, and, burying her face in her hands, she he spoke the truth.

sobbed like a child, 'O, Richard Sears! Richard “So we went up softly to the house, and there Sears!" was a new bond betwixt us which neither could I looked on her in amazement. Then the forget. Two days afterward my father discovered truth suddenly flashed into my mind. “Richard one of the pears lying at the foot of the tree- Sears! that was my grandfather's name!" I said. the other had disappeared—and he concluded the “Yes, my child," sobbed the old woman, "it thief had dropped it in sudden fear of being dis was the name of my dear husband, who has lain covered. He was very angry, and Richard, who covered up under the grass more than twenty was in the room, quietly slid out of it, and I years, and a better man and a kinder husband kept my eyes very steadily fastened on the book never went from his home on earth to the home I was not reading.

prepared for him in heaven." “Wall, to make the story short, the winter And I cried, too, for my grandfather, who had went by, and the birds of May were singing once been “covered up” half a score of years before more in the trees, and the boughs were all frilled my eyes beheld the light. over with blossoms.

At last her eyes brightened, and her face One day my father came into dinner—he had glowed with more than the glow of its lost youth been plowin' all the mornin'—and as he sat as she said, looking upward, "But the trees down and wiped the perspiration from his fore. under which he sits now never grow old, no head, he said suddenly, “That bell pear-tree is worm gnaws their roots, no wind tears down covered as thick with blossoms as it was with their boughs, and in a little while I shall see him icicles last winter. I shall put a trap under the again, and be with him forever and forever."




of prosecuting his studies as a candidate for the bar. It is said this profession was chosen for

him; it certainly could not have been chosen by A

LTHOUGH the prominent points in the life him, for it did not suit his tastes. Nature had

of Cowper are known to the generality of her own way and made him a poet. Cowper is readers, it is pleasant to refer to one, of whose not the only one who has thwarted the designs life and fortane it is impossible to think without of his friends by following the natural bent of a deep interest. Southey has portrayed his life his mind. Handel was intended for a lawyer, in very entertaining narrative, although it is but nature gave him a soul in concord with sweet questionable whether he could appreciate the sounds, and he became a musician. Buffon, too, character of Cowper. The Bard of Olney was a would have been a lawyer if inclination had not man of the finest sensibilities and a devoted Chris-led him in another direction. How many a mind tian. Where Southey could not sympathize, it has been fretted and cramped because it could is no wonder that he could not appreciate. In not exercise its powers in congenial employment! other respects he has drawn a life-like picture of But when Nature endows a peculiar aptitude for & man, upon whom none can look with indiffer- any work, she generally bestows the will to break

through the bonds of custom. Linnæus, who was At the age of six years Cowper met with a loss intended for the ministry, was so dull that his that was never made up to him in the death of teachers knew not what to do with him. But he his mother. Fifty years after her death he said finally got into the right track, and has, in the of her, "Perhaps not a day passes in which I do fields of botany, won a glory that any man might not think of her.” Surely a mother's care exer envy. It is doubtful whether Cowper ever would cised during so short a time, and remembered so have made a successful lawyer, even if the affliclong, must have been uncommon. After this tion which separated him from his fellow-man event he was immediately sent to boarding had never fallen upon him. While in the Teinschool. It would have been injurious to bave ple for the express purpose of studying law, "he sent him even to the best of schools at this age, wandered from the thorny road of jurisprudence if by it he were deprived of home associations; into the primrose paths of literature and pobat to commit him to a public school, where he etry.” was exposed to the rudeness of older and less During Cowper's residence in London he found sensitive boys, was cruel. We may judge what recreation and society in the house of his aunt; the public schools of England were, at that time, especially with two cousins, daughters of Ashley from Southey's remark that moral discipline Cowper. One, who afterward became Lady Hesseems to have been utterly disregarded in them. keth, is spoken of as being, in her time, a brillOur poet spent eight years of his life at a iant beauty.

From her childhood she regarded school in Westminster, which time his biographer Cowper as a brother, and the most interesting speaks of as being the happiest part of his life. letters he ever wrote are addressed to her. Her He bad companions suited to him in literary sister, Theodora, is the lady the poet would have taste at least, though the most of them were far married if ever he had married any body. She beneath him in moral character. Says Southey, was called an accomplished lady, of an elegant “He was exactly one of those boys who chose person, and good understanding. She returned for themselves the good that may be gained at a his affections, but her father opposed their union public school, and eschew the evil, being pre on the ground of relationship, and they submitserved from it by their good instincts, or by the ted. Perhaps his objection was founded on a influence of virtuous principles inculcated in discovery of symptoms of that insanity which .childhood.” Among his companions were Lloyd, afterward befell his nephew. The circumstances

Churchill, and Thurlow, afterward Lord Thurlow. under which Cowper gave up the profession of He considered Churchill a genius, and perhaps the law were mournful indeed. The clerkship if any one in these his school days had predicted of the Journals of the house of lords becoming that Churchill's name, in fifty years, would be vacant he was nominated to fill it. But meeting comparatively forgotten, while his own would be with opposition he was told to expect an exam. a treasured word, he would not have harbored ination before the house in regard to his qualifi: the thought. He thought one poet the most cations. This threw him into terror.

"They competent judge of another, but this circum- whose spirits are framed like mine," says he, "to stance seems to contradict it. On leaving West- whom a public exhibition of themselves is, on minster he began the study of the law, and for any occasion, mortal poison, may have some several years, perhaps twelve or fifteen, he resided idea of my situation.” His diffidence and senin the Temple, as it was called, for the purpose sitiveness magnified a mole-hill into a mountain,

VOL. XX.-27

and made that seem a terror which a person her son and I are brothers.” One of his biograblessed with self-confidence would have looked phers remarks that he never lacked a friend just upon as a good opportunity of gaining notice. suited to his wants and disposition, and refers to Up to this time the life of Cowper had run on this as an evidence of his being an object of the with that of others, but now the lines began to peculiar care and providence of God. Mrs. Un. diverge. A strange barrier came between him win was ever kind, appreciative, and agreeable. and the world, and he became a recluse. He When his taste for literature began to revive, and was attacked with that melancholy madness that he was about to turn his attention to authorship, cast a gloom over so large a portion of his life. Lady Austen fell in his way. She was a person He was thus rendered unfit for business, and of high spirits, lively fancy, and had seen much this is the last we hear of him in connection with of the world. She was just the one to enliven the law. Poor Cowper! this was a sorrowful rea- his mind, for she possessed a great gift for conson to be assigned for his not appearing before versation. Cowper seems to have been much his examiners. It is mournful to read the recital pleased with her company; gloomy as he was, he of his madness. He thought himself forever could not only laugh at others' wit, but he could shut out from the favor of God and the enjoy- make others laugh at his own if he chose. His ment of heaven. Despair spread her dark wings letters were very lively, even when he himself over his troubled mind, and not till Religion shed was suffering acutely from melancholy. It was her serene influence in his breast did Hope again Lady Austen that gave Cowper the subject of the set up her banner there.

Task. For a time, says Southey, her conversaAfter his insanity had passed away he left St. tion had as good an effect upon the melancholy Albans—where he had been placed under the spirits of Cowper as David's harp did on Saul care of a physician--and took lodgings in Hunt- Whenever the cloud seemed to be coming over ingdon. About this time he penned the beauti- his mind she exerted her sprightly powers to disful hymn, “Far from the world, O Lord, I flee!" pel it. “One afternoon, when he was more than His years at Huntingdon were spent in the closest usually depressed, she told him the story of John retirement, though he here formed the acquaint-Gilpin, which had been told to her in childhood, ance of one family—that of the Unwins—which and which in her relation tickled his faney as resulted in the most ardent friendship. His next much as it has that of thousands, since that, in removal was to Olney. His biographer repre- his own. The next morning he said to her that sents him as being at this time almost wholly he had been kept awake during the greater part engrossed with religious subjects. He formed of the night, thinking of and laughing at the very few acquaintances, and his correspondence story, and that he had turned it into a ballad. almost ceased. He even suspended his letters The ballad was sent to the younger Mr. Unwin; to Lady Hesketh, his favorite relative, for a he said it made him laugh tears." number of years. If Southey has correctly rep John Gilpin was very popular, and no doubt resented it, he became rather exclusive. If he thousands have read the works of Cowper that addressed his friends at all by letter, his commu would have remained ignorant of them if it had nication was brief and destitute of that playful never been written. At first it did not come out ness that marked bis former ones. Soon after with his name; but when it was published in recovering from a second attack of insanity, he connection with the Task, people read the latter resumed his literary pursuits for the purpose of because the author of John Gilpin wrote it. The occupying his mind, and he never afterward bard himself says, “Serious poem, like a swan, seems to have lost a taste for them. The friend flies heavily, and never very far; but a jest has ship which Cowper gained in forming an ac the wings of a swallow, that never tire, and carry quaintance with the Unwins was a valuable one it into every nook and corner.” to him. Especially is this true in regard to Mrs. No one can read the Task without forming an Unwin. From the time that she received him exalted idea of the character of its author. In into her family, as a boarder, in Huntingdon, till none of the active walks of business life could her death, they were never long separated. Death he have gained the laurels that decked his brow deprived her of her husband, an only son and as a poet. Indeed, he never could have written daughter were called by the voice of duty to dis- his longest and best poem amid the strife and tant fields of labor, but Cowper was her constant turmoil of the business world. He needed in a companion and friend. He describes her as being peculiar sense that serenity and composure of a woman of uncommon understanding, well read mind which retirement alone bestows.

His and polite. At one time he says, “Mrs. Unwin couplet, has almost a maternal affection for me, and I “Some minds by nature are averse to noise have something very like a filial one for her And hate the tumult half the world enjoys,"

A ,

is very applicable to himself. His attention to MISSIONARY LIFE AMONG THE CANNIBALS.* literature while in the Temple made him unfit for business; on the other hand, attention to bu

BY ERWIN HOUSE, A. M. siness would have been fatal to him as a poet. T Hykeham Moor, near Lincoln, England, If we regard him as a man of the world, he was not successful. There is no record in his life of third in a family of four children. His father his being burdened with honors. He was sought lived at the time in comfortable circumstances, by a few, but the world never broke in much as the overseer or bailiff on a farm belonging to upon his seclusion to do him homage. This a gentleman in Lincoln. The farm changed would not have suited his disposition. He was hands, however, and his father being thrown out too sensitive and diffident to seek an extensive of work removed with his family to Lincoln. acquaintanceship. He did not possess that Here things went badly with them, and want of troublesome kind of sensitiveness that is always employment brought the sufferings of poverty to taking offense; for he could bear neglect and their home. So low were they reduced that the eren censure in one that he regarded as his true poor-house seemed to be the only place of refuge; friend; but he was not calculated to bear the yet the father, making another move to the parish rudeness and selfishness of the world with indif- of Balderton, secured work once more, and from ference. He must have made himself agreeable that time was always able to support his family. to his small circle of friends, for Lady Austen, Such was the beginning of the life of John Haley, Romney, and the Thormocktons seemed Hunt, whose career, character, and labors we to take much pleasure in his company.

propose, in the briefest possible space, to look at. Cowper died at the age of seventy. His sun From his parents he had no advantage beyond of life went down in the deepest gloom. For the example of a sturdy and industrious honesty; quite a period before his death he could have but for that he had more reason to be grateful exclaimed with truth,

than many others for their lofty family name

and their thousands of dollars. His school-days “ The world grows darker, lonelier, and more silent, As I go down into the vale of years."

were passed under the auspices of a parish peda

gogue who had very considerably more regard Those who watched his last moments observed for the rod than love for his pupils. At the age that the expression of his countenance was that of ten John “finished” his education, and was of calmness and composure, mingled with holy put to work on a farm. The discovery was not surprise. Did the soul in departing catch a long in making that a farm-life was not the most glimpse of that bliss of which no mortal tongue suitable place for him. He was thoughtful and can speak, and which it so long despaired of serious, and showed signs of mental vigor, so ever receiving? He was buried in sure and cer- that he could remember the preacher's text bettain hope of a blissful immortality.

ter than his companions; but this seemed the only point of excellence. He was not handy at

his work, and a consciousness of the fact became UNDUE MORTALITY.

an ever-present annoyance. The other boys were That excess of mortality over what may be good at cracking a whip, filling a cart, holding absolutely necessary, or in other words, what the plow-lines, “but as for John," as one of his might be prevented by human agency, may be fellows remarked, “ he was just as likely to tie arranged under five principal diseases, or classes the cart before the horse as the horse before the of disease; namely, pulmonary diseases, fevers, cart." small-pox, infantile diseases, and accidents. The There was a wandering idiot boy, known to first and the fourth division constitute the most the people of Balderton, and they nicknamed fruitful sources. About thirty per cent of the John Hunt after him, both being of pitiful bodily whole mortality arises from tubercular diseases, proportions. “Let him be 'prenticed to a tailor,'' and diseases of the organs of respiration. And was the reply of a neighbor when John's father it might be safe to state that full one-half of all inquired what ought to be done with him—"let the deaths from these sources might, in process him be 'prenticed to a tailor; he 'll be good for of time, be prevented. The laws of hereditary warming the goose and smoothing down seams." descent may be very much modified by proper The sneers of his companions were borne with

The amount of infant mortality could certainly be very much abridged. Give every one

* The Life of John Hunt, Missionary to the Canpure air, pure water, wholesome food, and regu- nibals. By George Stringer Rowe. London: Hamlar hours of labor, and the amount of mortality, ilton, Adams & Co. Also John Mason, 66 Paternoster in the process of time, would be very much less. Row. 12mo. 278 pp.


patience, in the hope of a better day coming and determined to attend if possible. AccordHis parents were not professors of religion, and ingly at the appointed time I repaired to the neither could read. His father believed in hon- chapel and found a leader standing at the door esty and moral worth, and rather credited the to prevent improper persons from entering. I doctrine of God's providence and the power of was going in as usual, when he mildly stopped prayer. His mother seldom went to Church; yet me, telling me it was a special not a general taught her children to admire and practice things meeting, yet adding that he had no objection to of good report, and to shun idleness, theft, my going in, as he believed I was seriously disswearing, and kindred vices. They were trained | posed. I went in and was much struck with the to say their prayers regularly, and always met proceedings. The leader gave out a hymn and with a severe reproof from their mother if they prayed, and then told his experience. Others spoke in slight or ridicule of any minister of the followed, so that it appeared to me the rule of Gospel. John fully believed all his father said the meeting that all persons should speak. I about prayer and Providence, and, with great felt it my imperative duty to arise and state what simplicity, acted upon his convictions.

I knew and felt of religion; but the thought of scrupulously regular in saying his morning and doing so before a company of Christians made evening prayers, and often, on leaving the house me tremble exceedingly. At length, however, I to go to work, would say quietly as he shut the summoned sufficient courage, and told, in a few door, “Peace be to this house,” and so went on plain words, the exercises of my mind. All his way happy in the belief that his wish was present seemed much encouraged, and did what heard above. In guileless consistency he prayed they could to encourage me to continue seeking about all his little difficulties and fears. Thus the Lord.”

He was

he asked God to preserve him when he was On the Lincoln circuit was a minister, a mem

frightened about thunder, or dogs, or Gipsies, or ber of the Wesleyan conference, by name John bad boys, or any thing else that alarmed him; Smith, who had a wide-spread reputation as a and he always ascribed bis safety to the protec- faithful and successful preacher. John Hunt tion of God.

hearing that he was to preach at Thorpe, a place When about sixteen he fell ill with a brain not far from his home, determined to embrace fever, which threatened to prove fatal. The the first opportunity of hearing him preach. He thought of death being thus brought near, and afterward referred to this remarkable occasion feeling unprepared for the change, he pleaded in these words: “There was nothing in Mr. earnestly to God for restoration, promising that Smith's preaching that particularly struck me. his life should be consecrated, if only spared, to The text was, 'This is a faithful saying, and his service. Happily health returned, and true to worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came his vow he began at once a new life. One even-into the world to save sinners.' The sermon ing he went into the house of a pious neighbor, was plain, pointed, and powerful, and some parts close by, where a prayer meeting was in progress, of it awful; but the effect on my mind was rather and though the cross weighed like a mountain, bardening than otherwise. After the sermon a he arose and begged an interest in their suppli- prayer meeting was commenced, and, after some cations. As he talked the tears flowed, and sobs time, concluded without any thing remarkable. and groans succeeded, and at the close the whole I turned to go home, but at the instant a thought company present prayed for him.

came to me that I ought to remain a little longer. A short time subsequently, through the sug- To this the little party that I was with agreed. gestion of a young companion, a Wesleyan by A prayer meeting of a select nature was still goprofession, he went to hear Methodist preaching. ing on in the chapel, and some were seeking The sermon was by a local preacher, but it and mercy. Mr. Smith was praying with a poor wothe hearty singing affected him powerfully, and man who could not believe in Christ; and, feelhe thenceforth became a regular attendant at the ing what was needed, he cried out with all his chapel, where his mind quickly opened to under-soul and might, ‘Send us more power! I stand the Gospel. Few of the good people with kneeled near him and remember, with some little whom he worshiped knew his real state, till the feeling, I said, 'Amen.' Immediately a most occurrence which he thus records:

overwhelming influence came upon me, so that I "One Sunday night, after preaching, it was cried aloud for mercy for the sake of Christ; announced that on a certain night there would while I was, in a minute, as completely bathed be a public band meeting. What this meant I with tears and perspiration as if I had been could not imagine, and by this time I had lost thrown into a river. I prayed, as in an agons, my Methodist companion; but I concluded that for a few minutes. Mr. Smith came to me and a sermon would be preached on the occasion, asked what I wanted. I answered, 'I want my

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