Indiana American, Volume 13, Number 47, Brookville, Franklin County, 21 November 1845 — Page 1

751 - - Oar Country Our Country's, Interestsand our Country's Friends. BY C. F. CLA11KSOX. IlitOOKVILLK, FRANKLIN COUXTY, INDIANA," FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 21 1845.' VOL.XIll N3 17.

AM

ORIGINAL TALE

rThe Publisher or the Indiana Ameriean ha nbuinnl the eopv right lo the following Tale, "The Novice," from tho District Conrt of the United State for the District of Indiana, in accordance with the act f ConereM upon that object. THE NOVICE; A TALE OF INDIAN A Illustrating the advantages or Educated and Civilized Life, CHAPTER XIII. The landlady said that her husband had informed her of the arrival of a tick man yesterday during the time of the funeral. She had not yet visited his room, and perhaps he required some attentions lo make his situation more comfortable, an I requested Louisa to go with her to his apartment. What was the astonishment of Louisa to behold in the sunken and decayed features of the invalid Louis Boudenot? She immediately threw herself upon the old man, and sobbed aloud. Her appearance was so much altered that he did not at first recognize her. but presently the tears gushed in torrents from his eyes,and he seemed moved to the bottom of his soul. We will not pretend to describe this first interview after so long an absence. Sickness and distress of mind had wrought a sad change in Louis. His once round and ruddy face was now pale and haggard. He had never heard, he said, of Louisa from the day she had left the Lake t'ntil the present. Her absence had made his lodge desolate, and his heart disconsolate. Sickness had driven him from home, and he had come hither to find medical aid. A cold had settled upon his lungs which was graduall wearing his life away. The medical skill of an eminent physician of the place was called into requisition without delay. Louisa, like a ministering angel, sat with a tearful eye from day to day watching his sick couch, smoothing hU pillow, attending his minutest wants and guarding his feverish slumbers. Robinson, always mindful of his duty towards the sick and distressed, was ever fo'ind ready to lend any needed assistance. From the first he appeared doubtful of the recovery of Louis, and while he omitted no opportunity to alleviate the sufferings of the old man, was desirous to prepare his way to another world. Charity and entire affection for the whole human family, were the very essence of his moral being, and the saintly fervor of his philanthropy shed a corresponding, though far fainter glow into the bosom of those with whom he associated. What a moral power was his, what a blessed sphere of usefulness! It was his to wile the wanderer back to virtue by the charms Ofhisdevotedness. To startle the thoughtless by the terrors and the glories of the lire to come. To disturb with the awful forethought of death the souls of men who were at peace in their possessions, and lift to immortality the low desires of those who have their thoughts and treasures here. It was now visible that it was not only in the pulpit that he wielded a sacred and benign influence, but in the room of the sirk he seemed a heaven-sent seraph, circled ty a halo of glory. Robinson was daily with Louisa in attendance upon Louis, and began to feel an interest in her company which lie had not ordinarily experienced in his communications wiih her ser. Ha saw the gentleness and artlessnessof her nature.and that she had a mind of different mould, and greater power than usual among women. While he wa3 unacquainted with her early history, jet he had seen her in a light that made the most favorable impression upon his heart. His unworldly spirit reckoned more on virtue than an estate in a wife's dowry. Still without doubt her serene and touching beauty had produced its effects upon his feelings. With one so amiable, so lovely, so like himself, could his life be otherwise than happy ? His bosom seemed to warm, and his pulse to quicken ren at the thought. Louis perceived the growing attachment if voting Rjbinsoti towards L misa.and felt no disposition to discourage it. The at tentions of Robinson to his sick couch his fervent piety and mild deportment had won upon the old man's frozen heart. He had already imbibed from him some of the grand and exalting sentiments of christian morality. Virtue and intellect so long veiled to his sordid spirit had found their way to his soul, and did not pass unhnmaged. In the presence of Louisa, and Robinson absent, Louis would pass many encomiums upon the youthful preacher, and even remaiked that they looked alike. Louis however knew but little of Louisa's heart. He was ignorant that her attachments were placed in another direction. That there was another object of her idolatry, and who, since his late misfortunes, uicupiea almost every thought, filled every sense, and beat in every pulse. Here. a!so, might be seen every day ending a helping hand, the beautiful Catharine Bentley. But how altered. "A change had come over the spirit of her dream." She had not been an inattentive observer of pacing events. Every thing he had seen of Robinson tended rather to involve herein the meshes or love. His mild indifference contrasted greatly with the "passionate worship of her shut and silent heart." Sometimes she fancied that tie was wrapt too high in Heavenly con temptation to dream or earthly lore, and jet his attentions to Louisa filled her with anguish, nay, caused her to experience If k I . . . - - sue never oeiore Had felt the tortures of jealousy. At other times the tho't wouia seize upon her mind that he would eer think of finding his life's friend in cii a giddv and fluttering child of follr she must have appeared to him. Gloom as uepicted in her once sunny face, and oer powers of conversation seemed utter ly paralyzed. , woman pnde to conceal her wte, tad the lived in constant dread that .is wouH say or do rinvething to betray

her thoughts. William Fletcher alone sua

peeled her. She never had really lovea William, and this he knew. He had sufficient shrewdness to discern that there lurked beneath her sportive manner a temperament which would induce her to lavish her fortunes and affections upon a very different being from himself, if in her heedlessness she should ever take time to think for a moment. But this he determined to prevent if possible. He talked

about Methodist zealots, and pedantic .unearthly whisperings breathe into the preachers; yet did not dare openly to slan- soul a peace the world cannot give, and der Robinson, but had recourse to sneers J lift the heart to the pure and spiritual and "petty brands which calumny doth: mansions on high. -' - - use," to depreciate him in her; estimation. I Louis said that he had been preserved She treated his attempts with the smile of: through many perils until he had outlived ineffable scotn. This William peiceived.Jevery relation he had on earth. By great and intimated that her attachment to Rob-j industry and extraordinary hazzards he inson was becoming the talk of the village,; had accumulated a considerable amount of

and that Robinson was understood to dis- j courage so fruitless a passion. William! by this insinuation had touched upon the very soul and centre of a woman's pride. She filled with tears. Her, face assumed a blanched and spectral hue, and with un usual firmness she ordered William to leave her presence forever, declaring that

she loved neither him or Robinson. Wil-(such

Ham made a sulky bow and obeyed her re quest. Never before had Catharine known what it was to love, and be unloved. Yet the often flattered and adored Catharine was . now pouring out her first affections an un-j regarded tribute was wop. by him who alone had never wooed her favor to whom her boasted beauty and presump tive wealth were valueless as mere baubles, and in whose regard the lowliest christian maiden was of more esteem than she. Even the poor and pennyless Loui sa, but little more than a Tear from the woods, finds more favor in his estimation. What extraordinary revolutions will a few days sometimes work in our destiny. Not long since and Catharine trod the spacious apartments of her father's mansion wiih a transported and exultant sense of freedom and independence. She danced along the mistress of its brilliant revels, and gave tons to its every amusement. Song, and life, and odour floated around her steps, and her free heart bounded gaily lo the beat of mirthful music. Existence seemed a feast a gorgeous banquet. She ar exempted creature, whom no sorrow or vicissitude could reach. The young and the affluent strove for her favor as for honor and happiness. Every eye offered homage, every lip was eager to utter praise. Catharine was but eighteen in .that "natural blessedness" and innocence which belong to the morning of life. The dignity of Robinson's character Inspired her with such profound swe that she never could summon courage to offer him a single compliment; jet her bearing toward him was more courteous and respectful than it had ever been to any other nnn of his years. He had but Utile in common with the circle of which she had hitherto formed a part. His selected friends and companions were of a different stamp from hers, and consequently they scarcely ever met except at church, or the sick room of Louis Boudenot. Yet she had perused and -e-perused his lovely character sufficiently to learn how to solve the sage's oft debated question: "What is Virtue?" Already she began to look forward to the Sabbath as a day of rest, and peace, and joy; not only because it offered her an op portunity of seeing and hearing Robinson, but because she began to believe that the ways of religion were those of joy, and its paths those of peace. Her keen zest for pleasure began to pall, and the monotony of dissipation grew distasteful. The flowery opening of Ihe worla's path had been bright and gay, but she began to enquire to whence it would lead. She had become weary of crowded assemblies, and felt more like communing with her own heart. Let it not be supposed that there was sorrowful or repining thoughts blended with the glad beginnings of her love. Earth and sky seemed brighter than before. Human faces wore brighter smiles, and all living things were girdled by her widening tenderness. She sought out dear poesy, and learnt her sweet, low hvmns.and chaunted them softly to her own glad heart. The world's weariness had passed away. She descried from afar the transient abode of happiness, and resigned herself to the current of events, which she hoped would drift her towards the haven of her hopes. It was now, however, that she began to feel tlie pass:ons "pain and power" the wasting restlessness of doubt and fear. She grew sad, and "impatient hearted" as she felt that her love for Robinson was wholly unrequited, and began to think from circumstances surrounding her thai j it must forever so remain. The chill of hopelessness slole over her a sjie felt her undeserving, and knew how immeasurably high he ranked above her. His in creasing partiality for .Louisa she clearly perceived, and yet could not wonder. She was constrained to acknowledge in her heart Louisa's superiority both in beauty and intellect, lo herself, yet it drove her to despair. Happiness was gone. Hope, the joy of life was dead, and the future, the imagination's wide domain, nothing but one dim and desolate waste. CHAPTER XIV. Some twentv dava had now intervened since Louis Boudenot hid arrived at Ihei Hotel, and although at times he appeared j better, yet at the end or this period it was evident that he was fast sinking into Ihe' grave. The physician who had attended

him wiih great care gave up the case as ihe block, it still lifts its murderous paw hopeless, and had the candor to inform (or further prey. Louis that he could not live. Louis heard "Your parents clandestinely fled their the annunciation of the doctor with the native home and were married. The next greatest composure. His face showed imj I heard of them they had settled in ihi sorrowing or repining. He even seemed, valley of the White Water liver, on tlie resigned and cheerful. The dark and tur-' borders between the w hites and Indians, bid look which his countenance so fre-1 and shortly afterwards, for reasons not ne'l'ien!y wore, was now displaced by a se-'ecssary here to relate, I went to trade a-

rene calm. .lie had put off the old man,

and put on the new. II was redeemed and regenerated. He felt that in his exit to another world "Death would have no sling, ani the grave no victory," Ob, what a blessed thing is that principle which has the power to renovate an old tinner like Louis! To break the chains which bind to earth, and give a hope of a blessed immortality. Oh, the spirit of religion, how sweetly soothing to the troubled mina! Its property. He had toiled for wealth in the early part of life, because the excitement of business appeared 'necessary to his individual comfort. Habit had become nature, and in later years he had grasped for the goods of this world with an avarice peculiar and unaccountable. He was soon destined to take a journey where dross would be of no value to him, and requested to be left alone with his physician for the purpose of making some jdisposition of his property. Louis bequeathed to Louisa all his lands, personal property, and money amounting- to some thirty thousand dollars. He had a large amount of money in paper about his per son. This he requested to be immediate ly given to her. The balance of his cash was in specie in several different places selected for its security in the neighborhood of his lodge.' She alone from her knowledge of her former home would be able lo find the money. He would at a convenient time desciibe to her the places where it was deposited. The ceremonies attending the execution of the will being completed, Louisa aud Robinson again entered the apartment of Louis. Convulsive throbtoings shook Louisa's frame as she looked upon the old man's pallid face. She felt that the voice of ihe only parent she had ever known would soon be hushed in death. Hitherto she had held up her tears, so as to occasion Louis no uneasiness; but now gave free course to her sorrows, and stood the pilgrim of grief. The old man exhorted her to calmness. He rejoiced that he was about to die among a christian people, and only regretted that his life had been so miserably spent. Now that his sands were so nearly run out, he had important matters to communicate lo her. That up to this period he had concealed information which was of the highest moment to her interest. It was wicked that he should have so long withheld it. but that he would endeavor to compensate as well as he could for his previous unjust and unworthy conduct. Louis then informed her of what he had done in his wi!, and after causing the bank paper to be placed in her hands, described the places where she might find Ihe balance of Ihe money. He was indebted to no one except the landlord, his physicians bill he had paid, and only asked a decent burial in a christian grave yard. He now felt it his duty to say to her that he was not her father, though she had all her Hie called him by that endearing appellation. "Yes, Louisa," he said, "I am not your father, and it is unnecessary lo say at this time who I am. I have not now strength to enter into my own history, if it was even requisite that I should do so. You will find among my written papers at the lodge the dark and sorrowful tale. Read it at your leisure, and it will there be seen in what manner my own fortunes became in some measure identified with that of your parents. Suffice it to say we were all born and raised in the same vicinitywent to the same school in our childhood, and gamboled upon the same lawn, "As your parents ripened in years, a strong attachmentsprung upbetween them without being discovered by their respective friends. Your father was educated in the Catholic faith, and your mother raised a Presbyterian. Their parents, though living on adjoining farms, never visited, and the most deadly hale subsisted between their families, on account of their religions prejudices. Still your father and mother often met, and a pure and devoted affection increased with their years. They listened not to the bitter maledictions of theirrespective families, and heeded not their senseless warfare. In process of time the passion which so linked their hearts was discovered by their parents, and then came the storm. It was difficult lo say which side of the house was most malignant, but both were furious. Her fa iher forbid all further communication be tween them, and commanded "That she should not so much as utter the name of the popish miscreant in his presence. His door should not be polluted by a race ab horred upon earth, and excommunicated from Heaven. xour father's parents were not less vindictive. The father de dared "That Heaven disclaimed the mon strous connection! Even Hell rejected it! His blood should not mingle with that of the heretic." And thus the battle raged, the only effect of which was to fan the flame of the lovers. Such is the force of religious bigotry. The sane spirit has brought the martyr to the stake, and drenched Europe in blood. It is not reli pion. It is the mere effervescence of the sniriu Religion is ihe child of Heaven, and speaks peace and good will to men on earth. Bigotry is the monster of helland seeks to coerce Ihe human will. Having brought the head of its opposing victim to

mongthe natives of the forest, with whom

ever since I have continu ed to reside. Od a certain occasion, just before the lata war, I made a trip to the Ohio'river, and on my way Hopped a night and " a part of a day with your parents. .The country which they inhibited was Tery new; yet they bad opened a email farm, and appeared to be comfortable and contented. I recollect that their happy situation made a peculiar irapressiormpon my mind, and called up in cheerless contrast my own dreary existence. - But this was the only time I have seen your parents since their marriage, except on one melancholy occasion, which I will proceed to relate after you have given me a drink of water." Louis then proceeded to relate the plot' which he overheard among' the Indians to invade the neighborhood of her parents, and their murder, and in what manner he became possessed of Louisa, as heretofore substantially detailed, and concluded by staling that her father's name was James Robinson. Asbury Robinson could contain himself no longer. He threw his arms around Louisa. His long lost sister was found. The heart of the youthful preacher bounded with joy. On the day of the murder of their parents a neighbor woman had taken him about three miles from home to a more densely populated part of the then wooden country. Though only about four years old he had an indistinct recollection oi his parents. He had in hfs possession a portrait of his mother, and thought he could recognize in her, whom he now held in his embraces, the image of their dear mother. Her maternal tenderness was yet within his remembrance, and though in the dawn of his existence, he had not forgotten the tears he shed on account of her loss. After the murder of their parents every nook and corner in the vicinity of their la'.e residence was searched to find Louisa, and finally it was supposed that the Indians had carried her to their towns. At the close of the war ihe neighbors renewed their efforts to reclaim her, but to no effect; the Indians knew nothing of such a person, and it was ultimately concluded that the savages had murdered her by the wayside. Here was indeed a struggle between grief and joy. Louis Boudenot aroused for the minute by the excitement produced on the discovery of the relationship between Louisa and Robinson, had sunk down correspondingly low. The hand of death was evidently upon him. It was clear that he could survive but a few hours. She had forgotten the harshness of his temper. " His treacherous and cruel attempt to thrust her into the arms of the bloody Nowalingua. She believed him a changed man, and looked only upon the fair side of his character. She thought of the times she had clung around his knees, and followed him about the lodge in years that were pasf and gone. How could she do other than mourn his near approach to the grave? Yet in the midst of her lamen tations she lemembered that she had found a brother. One in whom she might justly feel proud. Hitherto she had view ed him as one of those noble spirits sent to reclaim a fallen world from sin and sorrow. The excellent mission to which he appeared so devoutly attached had exalted her opinion of the new world to which she had been so lately introduced, and she was still more confirmed in her notions of ihe excellence of "That wisdom which bringeth to the everlasting Kingdom." Louis Boudenot, however, slept with his fathers. His robust and active frame. which had passed through so many win ters, was mouldering in the tomb. His spirit had taken its flight to another, and; without doubt, far happier world. CHAPTER XV. Catharine Bentley was passing the Ho tel in the direction of the old Fort, with a small basket upon her arm. a few days after the death of Louis Boudenot, and had attracted the attention of Louisa, "Is not that Catharine Bentley on the other side of the street, she asked?" "I have observed her frequently of late walking in the same direction, and have as often won dered what she had found to allure her thus far from home without any attend ant?" "The poor widow Hergrave has been for some weeks dangerously il!,'; answered the Landlady, "and Catharine has been her daily visitant; without doubt she is now on her road thither, carrying same lit lie article which she supposes needed for the invalid's comfort." "Surely," replied Louisa, "this does not comport with the views you seemed formerly to entertain of her, and although from my own otarvationsonthe first acquaintence wiih Catharine I thought her giddy, and without any settled principles to govern her conduct, yet during the sickness of Louis Bouda-.fl her assiduous attention to his wants, htr deportment, and amiable sensibility had quite endeared her to my affections, and altogether changed my wentimer.a In regard to her character." "If reports be true." observed the lsdludy, "Catharine's disposition has trigone an extraordinary revolution once rattling and noy, she is jiow sobef, and more reserved; formerly Almost impervious to the sufferings of her kind, latterly she is feelingly alive to the least human woe. It is even intimated that she has discarded from her side the sillr William Flitcher." Such was really the fact. Catharine's nature scarcely bore a resemblance to what it once was. Charity, benevolence, and philanthropy, a happy group of social affections seemed to pervade her entire beinc. She lavished Ihe means w ithin her control for the relief of ihe poor, and was ready to perform any drudgery to alleviate the sufferings of the distrcsea. nn bad bronchi about this chance in Calharines sentimentst How shall we account fnrit 'tinon philosophical principles? It was, as already hinted, that she had seen - tho beanrvr Holme" in "the character or1 the oeanry 01 iioiincss in mr. nnio'" Asbury Hohinson, and, say what yo.n wjlJ,

there is a general sentiment among man- ihg virtue with vice, none treated on- the kind ia favor of tit tue. Search where we benefit of committing crimes." may and it will be found that there is- aj "Independent of revealed religion, phisomething in onr nature, when once ( iosophy concurs in enforcing the same rules emerged from the barbarism of savage life ( for our moral government. The stoics that leads learned, and unlearned lo ap-i with their rigid rules of abstinence and prove of virtue and condemn vice. Why? forbearance practised virtues for the love The first is the only path to happiness, and of virtue, as they professed; but at the God having willed our happiness, we ran same time they practised virtue, for the only regard that as lovely, or as an object ' benefit they thereby reaped in promoting of love which contributes to our felicity, j their own happiness. The Epicureans In the passion of love when awakened by jOn the contrary - practised virtue, not so such an object as he to whom we hare much for the love of virtue, as from a love justjalluded, all the charities of life, ire of pleasure. In their school, pleasure and called into active existence. Hence we j happiness were synonomous terms. Wisaccount for the change in Catharine, , doin by them was regarded as the first of all which in the space of little more than a ' virtues, it being that which teaches us that month had been observed by her neigh-; a life of real pleasure or happiness is alone bors, and given her an amiable distinc- to be obtained by the exercise of the whole tion among all classes in the village where range of virtues. In a letter of Epicurus she resided. j to Menaceus there is a passage which Robinson, mindful as ever of bis duty, should be engraven upon our memories. was still a constant attendant upon the Wisdom is the chief blesssing-of philososick. Every day in bis regular rounds he , pby since she gives birth to all other vir-

had met Catharine. He had marked her mild and lender demeanor. Her soft and subdued voice her pensive and melan-

choly look, and felt a kind of undefinable , the other hand, can we live wisely, conscipleasure in her company an intimacy jentiously, and justly, without living haphad already commenced between them, J pily: for virtue it inseparable from a life and they were often engaged in the most of happiness, and a life of happiness is delightful conversation. The gloomy equally inseparable from virtue. Be these,

cloud which for some time haJ hung upon Catharine's brow, was being gradually , dispelled, and without relapsing into the lormer follies, she appeared even content ea ana nappy, uobinson was even conscious that she occupied a space in his bosom affections not ordinarily felt for others of her sex. Yet he was aware that in sailing over the sea of life the pas-! sions are the gales that swell the canvass of the mental bark. "They obstruct or accelerate its course: and render the voj age favourable, or full of danger in proportion as ihey blew steadily from a proper point, or are adverse or tempestuous. Without lUein we cannot proceed; but with them may be shipwrecked and lost." Reined in, and attempered they are sources of happiness; but let loose and at random they involve us in ruin and misery. " How rew, beneath npiriuul planet born. With iwelliBe ail make nod their pramiied port "WiUi all their withe freighted. Robinson was present at the conversa tion between the landlady and his sister alluded to in the beginning of this chapter, He could not but feel a lively sensation of pleasure thai Catharines true character was already so well understood, and was led by an irresistible impulse to re mark upon the difference he had himself observed in her sentiments since iheir first acquaintance. He spoke with some de gree of fervor of ihe generous sympathy, and benevolence of her disposition, and referred to many instances where the kindly charities of her nature had been fully exhibited. The ardor of his speech betrayed his feelings, while at the same time the nobleness of her conduct in the instances to which her brother had allu ded, filled Louisa wiih a deep sense of Catharine's goocnets. Her own gener ous heart always open lo human distress, never failed to beat in unison with those who likewise knew how to feel, and re lieve the woes of others. She said lo Asbury;"Where there is an union of principle .and communion of soul with those connected with us in Ihe discharge of kindly offices how natural it is that we should form attachments?" "Bntaister. my life must be devoted to the ministery, and she is not a methodist. It is my duty to inforce upon the attention of others of our church the apostles caution. 'Be ye not unequally yoked together with un believers,' and our discipline declares it unlawful to marry with unawakentd per sons." 'If her heart is right,' replied Louisa. "It would be an easy matter to conform herself to the church of her husband." "True," rejoined Asbury, "but would her judgment be convinced that our church is best, and does it follow that she could prefer our communion lo others. If she did not I should feel quite as much grieved as if she was without its pale. If Catharine has any religious views at all, they are most likely those of her family. Her father is a Baptist of, the old Calvinistic school; and believes no baptism lawful but that of immersion.. The prejudices of early education ae hard to eradicate." "Brother," said Louisa" I think we give too much importance to the forms of the church. It is adhering to the shadow, and disregarding the substance. This same spirit drove our parents from their native home and comp.elTed tliem to seek aftfuge, in the wilderness where they were cruelly butchered." The allusion to the intolerant spirit which had banished their parents from their native country and ihe melancholy circumstances attending their death caused the tears to flow profusely from the eyes of young Robinson and his sister; and re newed for tfto moment the feeling of loneliness in life. She continued, "Since I learned their terrible fate I have paid some attention lo the subject of, the difference which divided their familea, and made them mortal enemies. I aril frank to own fiat I looked forward to religion as the only permanent source of happiness, and yet in pursuing the history of its progress in the world I found its career stained wiih blood. My heart became almost frozen with scepticism, and I was nearly teadyto thiow down the system as unworthy of my attention. Bull looked again and I found the quarrel hot about the thing itself, but the path we should pursue lo obtain the end. On the most important point all the different sohools seemed lo agree. I mean, that of moral distinctions. However various the roads which ihe different travellers took, whether short or circuitouswhether smooth or difficult, they hnaiiy all an ive at one certain point about which there is no cavilling. They all coincide in presenting the same rules vf duty and enjoying the same precepts of ! -j 1 rnoiafconduct-nqne dreameJ of coafound-

jtues which unite in teaching us that no! 'man can live happy who does not live! I wisely, conscientiously and iustlv; nor on

then, and maxims like these, the subjects of thy meditation, by nigh and by day; both ' .. 1 . .- r n1..nh Anil . I Vi ilia frian nt t , v twk ,-IICUllUIIC HU Tl.l nil. imvuu ui ..-j v- ' som: and never whether asleep or awake, shall thou be oppressed with anxiety, but live as a God among mankind." J This war then about lonns, is an un worthy service of ihe great master whom we profess to adore, and only tends lo fill j the land with scepticism. e behold the J lovelyCatharine constant in ihe discharge j of moral duties, and yet would turn our .backs upon her because she differs with us about some form of the church. Forms of worship change in every age, and differ in every country; but moral duties have been the same since the beginning of lime, and are equally obligatory in all countries. The performance of the first may lead to religion: but the other is re ligion isielf. The highest religious cere mony is less obligatory, than the preform - ance of the least moral duty. This is beautifully illustrated by the author of our re ligion, wherein he commands us to keep the Sabbath holy; yet should we not luc our ass or ox to suffer in the stable for the want vf rood or water. To supply their wants would be an act of benevolence towards a dumb brute of the lowest grade or moral duties; and yet it is of more binding force than tho keeping of the Sabbath, one of the highest of religious forms. Abury Robinson was astonished at the philosophic turn of Louisa's mind. He was enchanted with the music of her voice when a little animated as she was on this occasion, and confounded by the. strength and force of her reasoning. He was charmed by the power of hei understanding, and pressed her lo his bosom, declaring that beside herself he wanted no other companion. CiIAPTKR XVI. Catharine was seated in ilia gorgeous parlor of ber fathers mansion beside the little orphan girl of the lately deceased wid ow Hargrave. She bad burthened herself with this very ;nteresting child, which but for her benevolence must have become a county charge. Her mind was alternately directed to the sportive playfulness of this contented and happy little being, and dwellingupon the last sermon of Asbury Robinson which bad electrified the whole village. She was proud of his f success not only on account of the gooJ bis pious and zealous efforts were producing on their little community; but her self esteem was Mattered that others admired tbe same object, which she adored. His intellectual dignity commanding eloquence and fervent piety had justly made him the favorite of those under his charge, and given him tbe meed of homage from every lip, . The subject of his discourse was the "lea' ding passions, and their proper restraint." After contending that the passions are not distinct agents, but mere affect ions or emotions of tbe mind, excited by an almost infinite variety of external objects and wants, or internal operations and feelings, he showed that without these "motions ihe intellectual functions would be of little value. He insisted that to these affections we must look for tho tender regards, vbicli make our remembrance eacred, and lead to a love of tiuth, and glory, and mankind; that by these emotions we become admirers or truth, lovers of man, and adorers of God. He then turued the picture and exhibited with great power, and wonderful pathos their terrible effects when unrestrained, that tLcy are lie deadliest enemies I with which we are destined to conteud in tbe warfare of life; that a single hour of the uncontrolcd dominion of passion may destroy our happiness forever, and leave lit-1 lie more of virtue than is necessary for irivingborror to roinorse. He declared iliat the history of the world was but little other than tbe record of the wi!J and ungoverned passions of a few leaders of mankind; that the Caesers and Alexanders hid only been driven on by tbeir furious passions to become tbe greatest disturbers of the peace of nations of any age. In the conclusion Le said: "That it ia the duty of t bo judgment to direct and moderate the passions; to discipline them into obedience, and attune them lo harmony. Tbe great object of moral education is to call forth, inmiuc. and (or- j tify upon this important science; to let it' feel its own power, and aocustom Kto wield the sceptre intrusted to it with dex-j terity and steadiness. Where this ia ac-1 compiisued the violent passions can never; show themselves, they can h 1 ve no real ex- j istence: for I have already shown that they are nothing moro than the simpler affections, discordantly associated ur raised to an improper pilch. Where this is accomplished, the sea of life will, for the most' part, be tranquil and sober; not from indif-) ference or the want of active powers, but from their nice balance and concord: and if, ; in the prosecution of iba voyage the breeze' in the prosecution of iba voyage tlia breeze should be fresh, it will ti be friendly and qtickeu our con rso to the desired haven. - - . .... t inallywhencyer ibis is sccomylishcd.

man appears in bis true riimiitv: I.p I,

cbeived the great point for which ho created, and visionsof unfad glory swell before him, as tbe forth coming reward of his present triumph." While this discourse had exalted Robinson .a Catharine's esteem of Uis paf, and ofty character, its tone and , temper had wade her somewhat 10 doubt whether l.e cici auie tonuiain Ins love. For Rnma ffimA npoiriniia I J 1 no uei:very tiiey Lad been daily in each others company; afriendly intimacy had subsisted between them, and she secretly flittered heroirof having captured Kobinsons Leart-' Although prompted by nature to coufess her feehngs, the Lad'not dared luliy to betray the interest he had inspired: They l.ad conversed innch together mostly to be sure on subjects foreign to their love; yej elm felt that sufficient had been siid to disclose her own feelings, and she thought eha could read in his looks, and reserved language an avowal that tbe attachment was mutual. If it was not so, what dii i, mean as be last accompanied her horofrom , the widow Hargrave's, wten be said'. '1 think persons become tho most endeared to each other who), mutually parlicipt8 in watching the couch of the sick, and relieving the woes of tSe distressed." But nearly three days had elapaed tince f-atharine had last seen Robinson, and a sad disquictudo had seizeJ her' heart. "What have I done," she thought, "to drive him from me! surely I havenot committed so gross an error as to tell him I loved, and even if he guesses it, why ahould he esteem me the let!" J the mid.t cf mis cruel agitation Kobirmon entered tbe parlor; the rushed towards him, and involuntarily eeized his arm as if f he feared hw would again escnpe. Scarcely had rl.o yie.dcd to Ihis impetuous impulse than she remembered his chHricter. and blusheu. uroppeu her bind, and covered lur face to hide Ler tears. Robinson, after a moments surprise, imagined the cause of her emotion, and said. -I hope my aboen has not pained you."v,"Yes," t.h answered, I mu-t own that ithas. I hnd almost come to the conclusion tfaityou bid forgotten me. "No," he repliedyou hold a sacred place in my heart; but I could not desire to create hopes which can i.eveOe realized, or involve myself in neei!letsiortures." Robinson's 1 1st remark tended still mem to disorder Catharine serenity. She w nnnble to rrjoice, her face was blanched, and a cld chill seized upon her fm.ie. Robinson perceived the effect of his conversation, and found it necessary to explain. "You know," njj i,,., ..thal j design to consecrate my days to the pullic service of my Heavenly Master. It is a pleasing duty which through his goodness I do not expect to relinquish. The itinfr. ating policy adopted by our Church wm,l 1 " not allow me to hope that you would be contented to follow the uncertain footstep. of a Method.st mi.iiler. and I would b.r unworthy of tbe great cause to voluntarily suffer barriers to be thrown in the wy o'r a faithful I discharge of the trust to which I am called." "I can well conceive," sho said "that my gay and sportive manner, which was but too manifest on our first acquaintance 'may have Jed you to eUpp0fo that such a I.fe as that to which yo., allude was .ittle suited to my nature. Yet vou should have known that the affections of the heart are based only upon objects which conform to our peculiar notions. To love it is essential that there should oe soma" quality in the object which is capable of giving pleasure; otherwise we would a likely love one being as another. If vou have perceived any partiality ,ir ',r thoughts to yourself the high and holy calling to which you are deepiy devoted had much to do with it." "But " he said, "you have been raised in ease and affl ience, no wish of vour heart has been denied vou. no it t, .1.-. wealth can bestow has been w iihheld A Methodist minister has no home but the wide world. One year he dwtiH. in citic, and amidst all the refinements of societytbe next his lot is cast in obscure, and almost w.lderncss plaeis. What innumerable sacrifices has she to make who steps from under a fathers roof situated as you are to become the wife of such a wanderer" "Is life," she answered, "but a career of toil for despicable gain, or the worid onlv a banquelirff- house to - - V1B v uvi iu ui 1 01 time; 1 tie worst ofAthnim , n... cold selfishness which look nni m..-. selves, and not the hrDiiiesa of o!hpra"Do good to mm, that God miy hea) the wounds within your breast: To engage as a companion in such a cause is the sweetest bond of hope and sympathy that we contract in this life." She fe.'t as if she had said too much, and bent her head over the little prattler at her knee as if intending to ascertain its wants. As Robinson reflected upon ths frankness with which she had unconsciously disclosed her feelings; weighed the nobleness of her sentiments, and saw tba kind regards she cast upon the helpless orphan at her feel, he already sfghed to call her his own. After much tender conversation ttobiuson departeJ, promising soon to renew his visit, CHAPTER XVI?. It as a Sabbath; tin bell was tolling for religious service, and the inhabitants of F- Wayne were noislessly moving towards the .place of worship when Theodora Thurston alighted at ths tavern. It was but natural that hs should be excited as be a ppraached tho abode of her who bad occupied so large a space in his thought for the last year and more, tld even follhia hand tremble as he pushed open tho door and surveyed the hoii&a for the loved object. But all had left for the church except a young lad who bad taken charge of his jaded horse. "Where is tbe landlord and his fumilyl" asked Theodore, when the ,la4 returned to attend upon the traveler. " . "They have gone tu the church," was the reply. "To church! I did wot think, those waa a church in this little village." "Well," says the lad, ' If we have n church we at least Save a school house tliat answers the purpose." (hjs villaga pr,;de taking tlie alarm) "and there is not a belter .preacher in the world than MrsK'binson. Whenever it is understood that La is to " 't f n Good's boo of-NVu.rt'on the ongiaof Upau.ioiia may be found 111 Conciudiu-j I 'inaraa. , -