Lancaster Examiner and Herald

              VOL. .XXIII.
LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY. OCTOBER >4, 1349.
NEW SERIES, VOL. XI-NO. 47.
PUBLISHED BY
EDWARD C.   DARLINGTON,
OFFICE I.V NORTH Jj^^H STREET.
Tho EX-IJIINER & DEKTOCRATIC HERALD is published weekly nt two dollaus a year.
Advebti-se-iients not exceeding one square will be insorteti three times for one dollar, and twenty-five centa will bo charged for each additional insertion. A liberal discount allowed to tbose advertising by the yoar.
Tbe three Hyacinths Before Heaven
BY SILVERPEN,
With his own hand, as the way-worn pave¬ ment, the duaty, little, low-set window, and even Covent Garden clock could have told, he had done for nigh forty years, old Jan Blum, the Dutch florist, in a narrow London street, had swept ont bia queer old shop that morning.
For nigh fall forty years the process had been the same; which was, that as the scraps of string and straw, and bass made a little heap beside the kennel's edge—a very little heap, for the florist was thrifty even to a fragment of string, he settled his spectacles more steadily on his old thick Dutch nose, and bending stiffly—as Yinle old thick-set men do, hunted amidst the heap before him, as diligently, as cunningly, as acu¬ tely, as sharply, as a monkey for a nut amidst the leaves, or as Teniers' miser amidst his bag of guelders. After the rescue of five scraps of strings of undue length, old Jan's broad Dutch thumb and forefinger came upon what almost any one-else would bave mistaken for a pickled onion; a cloven, mouldy, withered, miserable, lit¬ tle bulb. This, after sundry looks, and doubts, and pinches, was consigned again beneath the brush, and swept into the kennel.
And there it lay,—lay till the chilly evening drew around; lay till every figure on the clock was blank to the upturned gaze of paseera-by; lay till the churchyard gravestones showed no calendar of age or time, of wealth or poverty, of reputation or obscurity; lay till thc bloom on clustered grapes, on pine, on ruddy Norman ap¬ ple, on pearly hued camellia flowers, or tliose Vermillion tinted, on thick-set bunches of gera¬ niums, was only fitful to the eye in the little ar¬ tificial light yet shed; lay till prowUng misery began unseen lo search amidst the garbage of the marker, and the rich odor of a hundred din¬ ners from the wealthy taverns around lured men on to these taverns' warmth, and light, and lux¬ ury.
At the same moment as two children crossed to the pavement with a carrot they had found amidst the rubbish, to examine it by the light of the old florist's one little oil lamp, a carriage of unusual splendor dashes up and stopped be¬ fore the door. Two footmen descended, and came to the carriage window nearest the pave¬ ment.
' No,' was the brief answer to  their  inquiry,
* I alight,' and the door being opened, the far younger of two ladies within the carriage de¬ scended, and guarded by the*silver sticks-in waiting' from the unholy touch of the two prowling children, swept into the shop.
* I want some purple hyacinths,' she said in a voice that would have been beautiful had it been less haughty, 'of double blooms; you have sucb, have >ou not?'
' I have, but they are costly;' and the old flor¬ ist, as laconic as this Duke's only daughter was haughty, still kept his arms folded on the little yellow-leaved, dog-eared ledger which lay before him-
'Price is no consideration; show me them.'
Slowly and with an expressive rub at his old thick-set nose, the floorist unlocked a drawer in the dusty shelves behind him, and bringing six large sized bulbs from thence, placed them be¬ fore the lady.
'These,' he said,'are cheap at the price,' and he named a costly sum, for they have double blooms, and the true hue. But this one,' he continued, selecting an extraordinary sized bulb from amidst the set before him,'will prove a matchless flower for bloom and odour/
* Purple ?'
* Yes, though the depth and richness of the- colour almost wholly depend npon the quantity of light and warmth such bulbs require, and are accustomed to.'
* Just mark it. My servant, who has some knowledge of these things, shall have particular instructions, as I ara desirous of a fine flower of this colour, for a certain table of my boudoir; the draperies around being of the richest yellow, and needicg a contrast.'
The lady had referred the old man to the Duke's house-steward for payment, and swept across the shop towards the door, when she stepped back a pace or two, and said,
' Have you yellow hyacinths, and what's their price ?'
* I have a few that would have flowers as golden as a new minted sovereign ; their price about five ghillings a bulb.'
* Pil thank you to rear rae one, for our garde¬ ners have wholly failed in this colour, and I witl call again at the close of the winter. Good day,' and the proud lady retraced her steps.
* And yet,' chuckled the old man when the costly bulbs bad been deposited in a brown pa¬ per bag, and delivered to the 'silver stick-in- waiting,' and the  carriage  had left the door;
* they may be seen in the homely windows of middle class streets ; they'll thrive in a smell of cheese and candles, of tailors' shreds ond book-sellers' paste in dull rooms, and above smoky fire places, and yet, be often as golden hued as the brightest sovereign in our pocket; aye, aye, and shed a light ahout, which purple cannot. But I hate poor and rich; the one for its pride, the other for its poverty.'
And so he did, this old Covent Garden florist, for the tax-collectors dreaded his growl, espe¬ cially Mr. Thumble, who came quarterly for the poor rate, and, not only confided his trepidation on  the particular mornings to his barber, but never failed purchasing a little extra pungent snuff", to stimulate his courage, as he said, against this * Greenland bear.'    As for the rich, not one amongst them would bave enterd his shop, but his  great wealth enabled him  to keep a rare stock of such luxuries as they sought.     Beyond this, of giving money's worth, and taking money, the florist acted, and through life had acted, as if every man's hand was raised against him and his own against theirs.    Moral justice or gospel truth he knew not; his whole code  of living well consisted in hving in hostility with all men. When it had grown  fully dark, and  the one ^ little miserable oil lamp shed but a sickly glare across the shop, he chained  the door, and went mto the little back room, which served him for the purpose both of parlour and kitchen.    Rous¬ ing up the bit of dull fire in the little stove, and placing the teakettle already on the hob, over it he set a tea tray on a small round table beside his old greasy leather chair, got out a cnp and saucer, a teapot with a tin spout, a modicu-m of moist sugar in an old blue finger-glass, from a little three-cornered cupboard, and lighling a can¬ dle in an old tin candle stick, sat down" in his chair.   Whilst he evidently waited for some fur¬ ther addition to bis tea-table before that meal commenced, he whiled away his ti^ue, by taking from a low shelf close beside his chair an old dusty cracked hyacinth glass, stopped up the fis¬ sure with a. bit  of putty, poured into it some composition from a bottle, and  then taking an ordinary looking bulb from the same place, stuck it in  the^ lop.   ..Whilst he was examining this achievement,.and meditating a place of deposit, amidst the heaped up litter on shelf and lable, a side door, evidently. leading from a passage, was opened  and an  old-woman came in, bringing with.het a small loaf, b piece of butter, and two kidneys in a scrap of paper.    She  placed  them onthe tray, and  then eyed what theold   man had been domg.
_< Don't stand looking there,' he said, at length, with one of those growls Mr. Thumble had spe¬ cified to tbe barber ; and when he had duly ex¬ amined the  kidneys, the buttet, and the loaf,
but just give me the toastin? fork; these kid¬ neys are uncommon small, >^rs. Wink-and iust hear*?'^       where this tV.ing can stand.   D'ye
Mrs. Wink with a grumble took up the candle¬ stick and went rooD.d the room, specifying as ?¦»! 11 ^1' '^^^-^ an^ lidless box and drawer, all literally hea^^ed up with the  florist's priceless
u^^\A^' ^"* **"^ P'^°^ W"^ ^^° ^^^^' '^® °^^^'" too colcU^ and so on, lill arriving at a little old faBhio)»,e^ table opposite the door by which ^^ nad entered, she half dropped the candle '*''*jm her hand, when she saw before her, on *the top of an old dusty herbal, a small piece of
rich   needlework about the size of  a child's
sampler.: ' l4ord,  Sir,'  she exclaimed,  ' if  here ain't
small Charlotte's primroses.'
'.Tust mind  your own basiness, Mra. Wink,'
replied the old man turning rottnd his head, and
holding forth the toasting' fork as  if it were
—they are uncommon small, whilst I see ; for you are duller and slower tban ever.'
Obeying this mandate, Mrs. Wink came to¬ wards the fire, where resigning the toasting fork to her charge, the old florist took up the hyacinth glass and bulb, and went round to the small semi-circular table opposite the door, on which stood, on a tattered, faded green cloth, a very thick old D utch herbal in the midst, and on either side, a pile of dog-eared books, a mouldy ink- horn, and a scattered litter of papers and old pocket books. On the top of the great thick Dutch book itself, lay a multitude ol odds and ends chiefly scraps of paper; these he pushed aside, set down the hyacinth glass, with strict m- junctions to Mrs. Wink not to lay an unholy linger thereon, and then took up the Utile piece of embroidery. It was to put it away, to lock it safely up, till the bankrupt house- painter and decorator op. the second fioor could pay the month's rent due that mornmg, and this he liad taken into a sort of pledge (there being little else left) knowing the value small Char¬ lotte's father set upon it.
This done, he resumed his place by the fire, finished his meal, and was about to return again into the shop, in order to close it for ihe nighl, when Mrs. Wink stayed him by .asking him for sixpence m advance of her weekly fee of eigh¬
ieen pence.
' What's it for? eh ? You can't want it, Mrs.
Wink; eighteen pence on Saturday night, and gone already.'
'Lord a mussy, what's eighteen pence to gel coal and candles—and—'
'There, there,' interrupted the old man, *I pay the poor rate, and that's all I've to do with pov¬ erty, or all tbat concerns me. And recollect, that if you have this sixpence, let it be the last you ask for, or you and I shall settle accounts ou Saturday night.    Do ye hear V
The old woman made an humble obeisance which showed she did, wailed lill lhe florist brought her sixpence in coppers from the shop, and then set about clearing away, mending the lire, and filling the ketlle. As soon as this boil¬ ed, and her liousohold duties were over for tbe night, ahe, uuder the pretence of fetching the old man's nightly half-pint of beer, brought in wilh her a new half quartern loaf and two oz. of but¬ ter ; and finding him, as she hoped he would be, atiil away in the shop, sbe put the loaf and butter in, and ihe kettle beneath her apron, and going Ihrough the little door, opposite the uew set hya¬ cinth, pulled olf her shoes and crept up the dark dirty slair case tothe second floor, where benealh a door a narrow streak of light shone ; she tap¬ ped as gently at thia door as she had crept up the stairs, and iben went in. A girl of about eleven years of age was seated by so small a haudful of flre, in a large old-fashioned grate, a^ to look like a nut in a cauldron, engaged in embroidering pieces of canvass, with silk and wool of rich co¬ lor, which lay sorted in little skeins on the small round lable before her; sbe used her fingers with such dexterity, as to at once show what praciice she had; but slaying them, and lifting up her face, burst into tears, as the old woman came and crouched before her.
' There, there, my dear,' spoke the old woman, half sobbing herself, for the father's poverty and tlie young child's sweel nature had endeared both to her heart, 'fretting won't mend the mat¬ ter, I know what he's done ; but when times are betler, the rent'H bo paid, and you'll get it hack
again, so '
'But my father will miss it,' spoke the child, ' as he was making a little frame for it, and will be sure to ask for it lo-morrow. To see him busy and amused was wonh so much amidst our
despair, that '
' I'll speak to him, I'U try and touch him,' in¬ terrupted the old woinan, as wilh a corner of her apron 5h« 'wiped the child's large rolling tears; 'but here's the fettle, dear, nearly boil¬ ing, and a loaf of bread, and a bit of butter.— You can say you got  a  little  credit for  them,
and '
Whilst she was thus speaking she had risen, and was now settling the kettle  over  the fire, when an unmistakeable voice from the staircase called oul— 'Mrs. Wink I'
' Lord a mussy, there he is,' exclaimed tbe poor old creature ; and half upsetting the kettle in her tremor, she dropped the loaf and butter from her apron, and hobbled fromthe room.
The old man, with the shop lamp in his hand, met her at the foot of the siaircase.
' Again tampering with my lodgers, eh, Mrs. Wink 1 Again serving them at my cost, eh ?— Again troubling yourself, whether other people live or die, eh? Very well, here's twelve more penny pieces, and our Saturday night's setlle¬ ment is to-night. There's the door, and recol¬ lect, if you ever again cross it, I'U '
The threat was not destined to be recorded, for the old creature interrupted him, by pleading her poverty and asking mercy. ' 1 tell you what,' he answered, ' I've no concern about the mailer, there's the door. My way of reading the text«do unto others ' is to pay 'em their mo¬ ney, and there the matter ends.'
He half pashed the aged creature to the door, latched it upon her, locked himself safely into his own department, and rousing up the fire, lighted his pipe, and meditated over this dismis¬ sal of Mrs. Wink, and his next experiment, as regarded domestic assistance, coming at last to the conclusion that he would try a ' cheap boy.' But, never conscious once through all this meditation, that an invisible chain of causes links creature iato creatiue, poor unto rich, rich unto poor, evil unto good, good unto evil; that no despair existing, no misery endured, no sor¬ row disregarded, but what bear up, and set in moiion, their own great principles of final truth and juslice. Never v/as once conscious that the dull and husky buUjs and roots around his walls held each wiihin th£m, in their germs of beauty and fragrance, a pioiest against his most un¬ christian creed; b-eing unlike and different in odour and in hue, yet when germinated, seve¬ rally beauiiful, and, as a whole, necessary to the divine purposes, of Him who made ihem One. He was unconscious of these things! But the golden-colored bayacinth was set, and the germination of odor and beauty was begun.'
The Duke's horses, in bearing away the car- raige had scattered the little heap from out lhe kennel with their h-oofs on to the pavement be¬ fore tbe florist's door, so that when the two prowling children turned from the window, ihrough which they bad been intently watching the lady, the little .'jcraps of strings and straw, and the miserable bulb, which eveu avarice had disregarded, lay at their feet. The younger of the two lads saw it firsl, and seizing it, held it up with an exulting grin.
'Halloo, Swallo-wtail! got a quicker eye than your'n.    See here.'    The  child  evidently mis¬ took it for an onion, for he had set his teeth into it like a famished, dog; but a moment convinced him of his mistalce, and he spit it out on  to the ground.    The oiher lad, who might  be  twelve years old, was evidently named from the garment he wore, having   been  originally   a   man's  full sized dtess-coat, for it was as  long as he  was taU, and, consequently, the taper onds trailed in the mud which lay upon the streets, picked it up again with some curiosity, and  examined   it  by the light of the   street  lamp under which they now stood.   "When ihis was done, he thrust the uneaten modicum of his own share of the carrot mto the other's hand, as a sort of ta.cit barter for unreserved possession, and then, witbout a word, dived down an alley  in the  puriieus of Drury Lane.    He had evidently some purpose in view, for though the a-la-mode beef, and tripe and pie- shops, were especially fragrant and tempting at this hour, and the chance  of  filchintr  best, just then as customers streamed in, he  kept on   tiU after threading a multitude of short but intricate gullies and lanes of ihe lowest and most squalid character, he reaehed a  sort of yard, or court abutting on one of those narrow plots of burial
spoke, though her silence implied either anger or sorrow.
' Don't be hard on me, mum,' at last spoke Swallowtail,' it was them as did it; though I was cotched, you know it mum, and that's how the three months was got.'
' I give you up. Swallowtail,' replied the woman, with much coolness. ' 1 did take com¬ passion on.you when your mother died on our staircase three years ago, and done my best ever since, though the Lord knows our poverty's a hard thing on us, but its no use ; three months more on it, and in the old company, and what's a lad, or what's the use I say of forgiving ?'
' But it is use, Esther,' continued the lad con¬ tritely, • 'specially if you says it. Don't make ma bad outright, Esther, as you may. But it ain't bin with other lads; it's separate up at Briilon where I bin, and there's what they says on me, both the schoolmaster and the chaplain.' He brought a scrap of paper from his pocket and read it to the woman. Her gaze softened, and her eye fell moje kindly upon him ; and thus in¬ tuitively assured of forgiveness, he knelt, and grasped her coarse hard hand. Still more kind¬ ly at last she said,
' When did you get oul ?'
'At twelve.    A lot on 'em got out then.'
* And where have'ye been since ?' She asked this question with something like doubt in the tone of her voice.
' Didn't care to come 'afore, mum, 'cause o' the old man, he ain't like you, Esther ; and so as I was a hungry, I went with Ned to Covent Gar¬ den to find a scrap, and that's the truth.' The sboebinder raised up the miserable child's face, aud reading truth there, pressed down her lips upon his forehead.
' Do be a good lad. Swallowtail,' she said, * for my heart's bin sore about you; and don't bo a going with 'em any raore so as to drop into their traps.' As he made a fervent promise, she re¬ collected he was hungry, so rising and going to a closet, she brought out and gave to him, the poriion of a loaf and a scrap of cheese, and rousing up the narrow fire, set on a coffee-pot; and when she had made him some colfee, she drew up the <able to the fire, and the lad crouch¬ ed beside her as she continued ber labors.
At length, when he had satisfied his voracious hunger and regarded her face for some moments with an earnestness as profound as it was touch¬ ing, he produced tbe miserable, cracked, and bitten little bulb from the only preaent pocket of the swallowtail garment, and laid it on the leath¬ er she was binding. She mistook it for an onion, , and said so.
' No, there'll come a flower on't. There was some on 'em growing in the turnkey's lodge this morning, and that's how I know.'
* But what's the good on 'em to folks like us, as have no gardens, or mould, or even a flower potin places such as this ?'
'It only wants water,' replied the lad, 'to make it grow ; and I should like you to take lhe care of this for me, Esther, and see what'll come on it. You've often wished for a flower for the window there, so, if this was to come to one, you might be glad.' And then he entered into the full hisiory of this little, miserable, bitten, dis¬ carded thing, minutely describing the old florist's: shop, the grandeur of the carriage, and the great lady who had descended from it. The shoebind- er had listened more and more attentively, and now as the crouching child described, with al¬ most Dutch graphicness, the color of the gor-. geous livery, and the beauty of the lady's fea¬ tures, she dropped her work and exclaimed,
' It is no other than the Lady Augusta you saw, Swallowtail, and the great Duke's daugh¬ ter, where our little Kitty lives kitchen-maid.'
* Him as is the Parliament Duke the old man' goes on about, eh V inquired the lad, wilh an acute earnestness, which showed how precocious were his wits, and how these sorl of subjecls had been discussed in his hearing.
* He goes on about all them sort of folks,' rejoined the shoebinder ; ' but perhaps on this: one more than the rest, because of his doings and speeches about the poor; looking down on 'em, as father says, and treating 'em like child¬ ren, instead o* giving 'em laws by which they could help themselves. And so as this sort o'. thing rankles sore in his heart, charity instead o' justice, he hates Kitty being there, and '11 never: be friends with her whilst she eats this bread of unjust pride and wealth. So this is why him and me are alwaya a squabbling; and when I sometimes get hot on him, and tell him what Kitty often tells me, when I go and take a cup of tea with she and Mr. Wink in the pantry, about what a deal Lady Augusta gives in chari¬ ty, and what a good man the Duke is, he always stops me short, and tells me to talk no longer of pride and selfishness. But I tell you what I think it is. Swallowtail, and I've told the old mau so more than once, its ignorance of the' truth on every side ; the rich not knowing the poor, nor the poor the rich. But I think if the hearts of all on us could be seen by each other, as God must see 'om, how much charity, and good, and love, there is in the natur' o' the very worst among us, and how that wealth and high; places are as full of evils in the way o' shutting up the human hearts o' the great, as poverty and ignorance among sich as us, our wisdom would so grow, and our charity so increase for one anoiher, as to make us all understand, that it ain't by putting up, or down, or trampling on, or destroying, that we shall make the world and its evils better ; but by coming to understand, that as different flowers grow side by side in a garden, so human naturs stand before God, with their biggest duty, to be wiser and better, if they can, whilst cheerful in heart at the place they siand in, and willing only to change it, by being worthy of a better.'
Thus speaking with the best measure of phi¬ losophy she had, Esther, now much interesied aboul the miserable little bulb, so lately rescued from the kennel, rose, and, assisted by the lad, found up an old glazed tea-pot, lidless and cracked, but which answering its purpose well, when fitted with an old spoutless tin funnel, and filled with water, received the bulb, and was carried and placed upon the rotten window-siU.
So, by the time the outcast of the streets nes¬ tled to the bit of rug the poor shoebinder had spread for him, upon some shavings in a sort of closet beneath the siaircase, the text of Trulh and God began lo write itself, by its own signs :
Amidst gorgeousness, artistic beauty, and wealth:
Amidst plainness, unused riches, and common¬ place life t
Amidst poverty, honesiy, crime, and igno¬ rance :
And yet one God and Heaven   were  over
ALL.
Weeks passed on, and winier fell, before the genial goodness of the spring !
And like this goodness of dear nature in anoiher form, the genial influence of the poor shoebinder's honest virtues warmed into life the latent virtues of the wretched outcast lad.— Through.this influence he again resumed his old place in an adjoining ragged school, and ihrough her kind words and her own honest labor, earn¬ ed a few weekly pence by running errands for some printers in a neighboring garret, and secur¬ ed a daily meal and a nighlly shelter. Here was the true secret of the growing change ; this security against need of vicious companionship. And lo ! the little, miserable, bitten bulb, began to grow in the old teapot on the rotten window- ledge, much to the amusement of the old satur¬ nine cobbler, as he sat stitching shoes, and medi¬ tating public wrongs. But, as it thrived and threw forth little leases, though pale in their poor greenness from the want of sun and air, and thrust out little fibres far into the old teapot, the lad, creeping there of an evening when the old cobler weis away, watched its growth with singular curiosity. This, in itself, generated a strong interest in the old florist's shop, in its dus-
ground which disgrace   the  civilization of our   ty roots and bulbs, and in the old man  himself;
age, and the decency of human nature. In this i yard were a few old dilapidated, houses, whose chambers were reached by a common staircase, and whose windows, from the blank wall turned towards the yard, were evidently so placed as lo look fully on the burial-ground. Lurking in the shadows till several persons had passed to and fro to the staircases, he crept into one of the pas¬ sages, and up to a door in its extremity. Though closed, light streamed through its dilapidated chinks, and the clink of a cobbler's hammer on a lapstone was plainly heard. For a long time, more or less, this continued monotonously; and before it ceased all the clocks round had gone ten. At length the door opened, and a man, gaunt and threadbare, and aiivanced in years, came out, and passed into tbe yard- For this departure the boy had waited, for he inime¬ diately liftedthe door latch and went into the room. There was abasement and timidity in ^he tread of bis naked feet upon theflcor, as he ^ppioaobed a woman binding shoes at a small table, tuite^difTereql to that with which thexhad
sword, ' or else we shall settle onr accountTrery j ordinarily leapt and bounded a]ong the,; ipayer ¦ briefly on Saturday night. Is there a place, 11 ment of the streets. The woman, as she beardT rty t  Or fttopf comt and hold ths two kidneys > the step* looked up into the boy'i face, bnt hevar
and looking often in, as he passed on his errands for Esther or the printers, he began at last to identify himself with it, and to wish that he could stand behind the counter, and learn the se¬ crets written on the slips of wood, thrust here and there between the heaps of bulbs. Telling these things to Esther, and her interest awaken¬ ed, both by the growth of tho poor root m the .teapot, and the singular pertinacity of the lad in visiting this strange old florist's window so often, she one daypassed it purposely in order to look; .and domg so, her eyes rested on a slip of paper ;yellow with dust, on which, she had just schol¬ arship to decipher, was written, 'Wanted a lad, wages a shdling a week, and no victuals.' Now, It happened that some weeks had passed since Mrs. Wink's dismissal, and no lad had yet bid for this tempting oflSce; so that when the poor ;:ahoebinder, thinking of Swallowtail, steppedin and made inquiry, the old man's growl w;a8 not so fierce as usual. The truth was that' he had lately, an ancommon fit of the rheumatism, and liad; found sbntting- the ahntters,.'ahd ligbting. ids bil of miserable; firejii|i80inBj,^Bka,j»? ^^lat Vhen Esther spoke of her ajbility to procute a' veoooiiiiBndation from tho lad's schoolmasteri and
from the printers, he consented to take him npr on trial, if sucb recommendations prove aatisfac^ tory. They did so; the printers amongst them found up an old coat, trousers, and hat; ahd Esther was able to procure a second-handed pair of shoes on credit; so that in a week, under his real narae of Joe, the poor outcast, who had so lately fed on the garbage of the market near, stood behind the old counter, anriidst the latent glory of a million flowers.
There was but one fear or doubt in the heart of the poor shoebinder, and this was, lest the lad should again get inveigled by those who had profited by his outcast life, or who finding his advance into a place of decency and trust, ahould, through intimidation or pursuasion, make him the tool of their arts, in order to compass some design upon wealth, so proverbial, as was that of the Dutch florist.
But there was no fear; and none should have been in the heart of the poor shoebinder, con¬ sidering the worth of all her anxious care and service, her self-denial, so that hunger should offer no temptation, her appeal against the sat¬ urnine remonsirances of the old man her father, and her earnest words to Joe, never put in the shape of a homily, but quietly as a prayer tb affection and to duty : and in no barren soil this good seed fell. In a week or ten days a custom¬ er might have thought Joe had been amidst bulbs and brown paper bags all his life ; and as he could light a fire and shut the shop, and never asked questions or made any reply to a dozen or so of those growls so dreaded by Mr. Thumble, the poor rate collector, the old man and his ' cheap boy ' got on fairly, more especially, as the mis¬ ery of his late single-handedness was still fresh upon his mind- Thus installed into something more than Mrs. Wink's place, having more duties, and being there a greater number of hours, Joe soon began to distinguish from the footing of the officials and their clerks, who rented the first floor as an office, certain little steps, heard on the old, dirty staircase, especiaUy after this oflice had closed. As he had sirict injunctions from the old man, never to ascend this staircase, except on a special and ordered errand to the third floor, where the spare stock of bulbs were stored, it might have been some time before he had really learnt to whom these little steps belonged, but that good Mrs, Wink, living in a near neighborhood, soon discovering he was errand boy, made herself known to him, and entrusted him with divers messages and humble love tokens to small Char¬ lotte, to deliver which, unsuspected by the old man, required no coinmon amount of tact and ingenuity. Thus did Joe, ready of ear and quick of fool, soon rival Mrs. Wink in good of¬ fices, whilst by degrees he gathered from her some outline of their poor lodger's story.
That this small Charlotte's father was one of those, by whose exquisite taste and genius, too often unregarded, wealth is so much indebied for the artistic grace and beauty it can galher around it. He could be hardly called either a house- painter, a designer, or a decorator; but some¬ what all combined in a rare and exquisite man¬ ner. He adapted colors in decoration to one anoiher, such as costly draperies to their aspects, and the walls around; he hung pictures with masterly efi'ect as to light and shade ; he dispos¬ ed of statuary; and had been consulted in gen¬ eral .decoration, from the placing of golden shields, and cups and salvers, upon a royal buf¬ fet, to the vase and its exotics in a drawing- room. But in the midst of a mosl prosperous career he had fallen into bad health. To meet some heavy demand which fell upon him at that time for decorations he had to provide, he had borrowed of Blum ; who, to his trade of florist, added secrelly that of usury. At this time, an application was made to this poor man nf genius, to design and procure draperies for a private suit of rooms belonging to the great Duke'sdaughter, of this story, which being unusually costly, drew largely on his finances. Their color was the deepest golden, and their fabric the most gor¬ geous satin the looms of Lyons could produce; but when up, they were, merely, for what ap¬ peared to be no more than a whim of the mo¬ ment, disapproved of, ordered down, and replac¬ ed by others. The draperies iivere retained, and the fabric paid for ; but recompence , for design and labor refused by the Duke's man of bpsin ness, as an impossible claim, considering the fact of disapproval. Thus, the designer was a ruined man, for he had to satisfy lhe claims of workmen, he had employed. But in extenuation, these circumstances had never reached the ear of Lady Augusta; she had only to say ' I will,' or,' I will not,' and all the rest was referred to the solicitor or the house-steward ; and that any one would be ruined by a mere wish, had possi¬ bly never entered her mind.
But it did ruin the poor designer, did consign him to the tender mercies of old Blum, who being by far the largest opposing creditor, consented lo waive his present claim to a little annuity lied up to the poor designer's only child, on which the money had been borrowed, on condition that he received two-thirds of this sum, and that tbe designer rented two empty rooms upon his sec¬ ond-floor, which considering the rent he asked, he could let to no one else. This was his bond¬ age over them; this the secret of hostility.
Broken in health by these misfortunes, and by the death of his wife, and almost incapable of labor, lhe wretched falher and the little child had, for nionths, dragged on a weary life, main¬ ly supported hy the industry of the child, in work¬ ing small rugs for the bazaars and shops, and embroidering velvet bags. These sold rapidly, for the child was a genius—a genius of no com¬ mon-place kind. Inheriting all her father's mas¬ terly eye for colour, and intense preception of grace in its disposal, this little soul found in her great duty, one of love. Though she could draw beautifully, drawing would not give bread, so she wrought flowers and fruit, which Flora would have bent before in adoration. It seemed as if the soul of this sweet creature had walked with Eve, and seen the flowers of Paradise, in the freshness of the vernal morning, and viewed with Claude the matchless sunsets of the south, or with Rubens the garments of the Sabine women. And thy heart was true to this great nature in thee, sweet one!
Sitting up in that old room, nature was not, nor had not, been shut out. There was a little glimpse of the market to be seen every morning, in spring and summer, especially when flowers were brighl. And these looked on, were na¬ ture's patterns to the child. She had no others. Thus rose and water lilies, jonquils and con¬ volvulus, carnations and anemonies, died not, though the summer died, but carried as it were to that old story, lived there again in freshness and in splendor.
The spring before these hyacinths of our story had been set, sweet Charlotte saw after a.week of dull and rainy days, a tuft of early primroses' upon the dark and dirty pavement of the market. This had so pleased her eye in its pale yellowness and greenness, as to mako her imitate it upon a little piece of canvass, and place it before her falher one evening. He said he had never seen a thing so beautiful; and prized as it deserved. This was the tuft of primroses so worked old Blum had seized, and which had excited the la¬ mentations of Mrs. Wink, In this case, old Blum, with his usual sagacity, had, like Shylock, laid claim to a veritable pound of flesh, which he knew must be redeemed, as it was,*through the poor father pledging his sole spare coat at the nearest pawnshop ; so that, when poor Joe slipped in with the kettle secretly boiled, Mrs, Wink's ounce of butler, or a little loaf, there it hung above the tall old fire place, Hke a sign of spring laid on by nature's hand.
These little services, and the repeated absence of her father, either for the purpose of disposing of the little rugs, or in search of such light em¬ ployment as might suit his weakness and declin¬ ing health, made sweet Chariotte, in the duU loneliness of this old house, soon cling with un¬ feigned sympathy to poor Joe, so ready to oblige her and so docile to her will. As the old florist had been unable to slir much frora home, be¬ tween the, time of dismissing Mrs. Wink, and the hiring the ' cheap boy,' he soon began, when he found Joe worthy of trust, to retain hira after the shop was closed of a night, whilst he indulg¬ ed in a sixpenny supper of tripe, at a tavern in Drury Lane, or went, on monetary business, to the far off" regions of Finsbury. As Joe soon discovered, that whenever he undertook this latter expedition he put on his old snuffy colored top-coat, and duly inserted into the breast pocket a leather pocket-book, wilh a tremendous lengthy strap, he began to make such evenings those of pleasant license, by creeping up stairs to sit with the poor designer and the little child, or by admitting Mrs. Wink to a tender embrace with Charlotte, or else on these evenings, when the designer was absent, getting her to come down Btairsj and warm herself a bit, by the old man's fire whilst they turned over .his, great ; Dutch herbal, and wondered together at the jcolored prints it held ; Charlotte being able to tell bim so mach, teach hira the names of the Ttchcolor&f.and pointing to. tl^ shelves aronnd t^e walls, show him the bulb which belbngisd'tb the tinted flower upon th« open page before
them. I scarcely think this pleasure would have been so great, even taking into account the usual freedom of childish friencShip, but that there weis sympathy of, tastes,between' the two, though one was so immeasurably beyond the other. But that same touch of nature, which had led the lad to set the biiten bulb in the broken teapot, tvhich had made him haunt the florist's window, hnd be so eager to learn and know, was indirect¬ ly the sarae which led the child to take delight in ind contrast colors, and be so passionately fond jf flowers of any hue or shape.    Thus, thatold
Ierbftl looked at with beatiiig hearts, and with le sense of listening as keen as that of a fright- ned mouse, lest the old raan should return, was sort of garden to them, full of new freshness. Hough so often seen.
! As I have said, many weeks had passed by ; ^nd now the golden hyacinth, which  carefully tmded by the old  man, had flourished so won¬ derfully in both leaf and fibre, began to put forth ils splendid and  its gorgeous blossoms, though oply here and there these were opened into flow- .efs.    Both children, who had watched its growth 'heedfuUy, were charmed as pendent  bell came after bell, for one so rare had no likeness in the 'herbal.    So Charlotte's eye revelling in a flower sweet and rare like this, brought down stairs one feyening, when laking the signs of the coat and pccket-book, it was supposed old Blum was  off to Finsbury, some canvass  and a pencil, and silks and worsted, in  little thread-papers which Joe had made her, in order to copy it as she had done thc knot of primroses.    This little holiday xves all  the sweeter to the child, for her falher hn^ been  mom  thau  usually complaining  for several   days,   and she    had   been closed   in continuously  with    him;    but   coming   down stairs   and   finding   the  fire brighl,  made   so with an old  broken box Joe had brought from die shop, and  the old  florist's leather chair set for ber, and Joe on a little stool on the other side, and the old cat tucked up like a grand pincushion on lhe table, and  the thick Dutch herbal near, the cracked hyacinth glass, and ils rare flower set on the  top, she was never happier or more delighted with  a coming task.    So drawing the outlines of the stalk and leaves with a pencil, she began wiih  the  needle to clothe them  in greenness ; Joe snuffing the candle and watching herunienlly, whilst Mr. Bob enlivened the treat with the murmur of his roundest purr.    AU at oncB, however, a shadow fell upon   the candle and! the work.    Looking up at the same instant, the children beheld  the  face of Blum, leering abov*  the candle with the Dutch gria.     'Too terrified to move or speak, Joe sat as if nailed to the stool, whilst Charlotte dropped the needle from her rigid hand.
' So,' spoke the old man at last,' this is lhe wajl my  coals and candle  are  burnt, is it'{ So
' ^,'and he growled in a manner which would
have kUled Mr. Thumble outright.
Jde's first impulse was to fly to the door, the the next to remain and defend the child. Bul for this the old man did not wait; he brought dowt his broad Dutch Hand upon Joe's head, and next seizing him by the collar of his coat, dragged him across the room, along the passage, opentd the street-door, and then with a kick, and a monslrous nhere,' which lefl him as breath¬ less Ete a stranded whale, he thrust him out, closed the door, and doubly locked it.
The herbal and the hyacinth had been re¬ moved toiheir old places by the time he return¬ ed ; the cat was gone ; no light and gentle feet were on his hearth ; so when he had closed the door of his little room, he vowed a vow, never henceforth to be bnrdened with 'old women' or ' cheap boys.' This done, he rubbed his nose, and taking off his coal, and lighting his pipe, put bid feet on the fender; but a desolation slowly came and weighed upon his soul, such desolation as he had never known or felt before !
The garret-printers, who were just then in full work,.readUy received poor Toe back again, and Esther did her best to console him under his discomfiture, even promising to go in a week or two, when the old man's wrath might be cooled to'reason wilh him.' To this course of things might now be added the lessened hostility of Esther's father to the poor lad. Therefore, in¬ stead of disputing with his daughter, he soon be¬ gan to-invite Joe to sit hy him of a night, and -thus iflslruct him in the woes and wrongs of the naiion, and their remedy by fire and slaughter, ' The rich,' he argued, ' are hard and selfish, and knowledge brings to them no love for other human creHuis.. We'U bring 'em down, we the poor; we have no love for 'em, nor ain't neces¬ sary to 'em, n^ wouldn't sarve 'em, if we could. No ! ihere'smothing in common atween us.'
Saturnine old man! The poor bulb in the cracked teapot standing on the window, by its odor shed around on anything which might be near, gave out another text than thine. It was weak, and pale, and faint, and single blossomed; it, wanied more sun, more air, more nutriment, more tendance; and not to be made fainter or weaker, or less odorous!
Snll ashe sat and worked he grew to iove the flower, and Esther, as she slood at work beside this window-sill, began unconsciously to link its pale, faint beauty, with one she had called ' Mother,''in the churchyard ^od below.
Joe had been exactly a fortnight away from the florist's, when one night the primers going out to the play, left him in care of their fire and garret. He had rolled himself up in an old watch-coal, before the fire to sleep, when about midnight he was aroused by some one tapping lightly at the door. Thinking it was the printers returned, he hurried lo it, when to bis astonish¬ ment he beheld the vagrant lad whom he had last seen the night they had prowled together to scour for the garbage of the market. The child whispered something to him, which was no soon¬ er heard than he hurried down the staircase to arouse Esther and her father. Whilst doing so, the printers came, and thcy informed ihereon were equally eager, and not waiting lill Esther or the old man could dress, hurried off" with Joe at their hekd to the nearest police station. As they reached it, the clock struck two hours paat midnight!'
Sirict toSiis stern determination, the old florist admitted neither * old women' nor ' cheap boys' after the memorable night. Still more inflexibly he avoided all intercourse Avith the child or her faiher ; and'though he knew they must be desti¬ tute, as they were in two months' arrears of rent, he kept his!room-door locked against them, and closed his ear when he heard sweet Charlotte's foot upon the siaircase. He paid poor's-rale, and owed no man a sixpence ; for the rest what cared he ?
. A fortnight had gone by, when one evening his neighborB remarked that the old florist had closed his shop unusually early. This was true, for he had felt strange and out of sorts all that day- so much so, that when he had closed him¬ self well in, ^.nd got his pipe, and sat down in his chair, he oegan to wonder what could be the malter with h.m. Sometimes he felt cold, and somelimes hot, and his sight seemed dim and glazed. Thea trying to recollect when he had first felt so, he remembered it was soon after going up to his two old warerooms on the third floor. Whilsl he thus thought, it all at once oc¬ curred to himtbat he had heard nothing of Char¬ lotte or her fa.her for several days. Could they have escaped bim? That was impossible ; for where were tte houseless and destitute to fly to. At lengih he came to the conclusion, that it was useless lo thin.^ more about the matter, as it was really no coruequence to him;, but-in trying to dismiss it from his brain he found he could nol,' and the soHmn silence of the dreary house haunted his ear more awfully than the tread of a million hostile feet could have done.- As his [ heart throbbed, as his breath grew short, as his pipe fell fron his shaking hand, he felt that at that minute he wonld give half- his wealth to hear tbat littfe gentle foot <Mice more upon his dusty stairs. -
He put dowa his turn-up bed, for he slept in this room, mace it (in this matter he always missed the setvices of Mrs. Wink amazingly), and went to bed, leaving a rushlight :to burn as usual upon the table. After long watching, he fell asleep; the old clock ticking to and fro, go¬ ing onward wkh the hours in dull monotony. It might be midnight, when he suddenly woke again to the'consciousness of being very ill, racked with intense pains at every joint, and so burnt up with fever, as to feel like one stretched across a molten fire. He tried to move, he could not; be tried to lift bis head upon tbe pillow, and he could not; he was as powerless as one bound by a thousand cords, and yet his thirst so raged as to make him feel that he must drink, or die a raving madman. Yes,he would have giv¬ en any one of the gorgeous bulbs around him, narcissus, tulip, hayacinth, or jonquil, for one cup of water from the closet near; or, as this raging thirst increased, a fraction of his wealth, for power to summon aid, though it were no other than Joe's or Mrs. Wink's. Butin the pride and strength of his unholy creed of isola¬ tion, be had sXut out all human sympathy, and now he lay like a rat in a sinking ship. The very silence of the house seemed like a monstrous night-mare stretched across him. It would have been life to hear that little foot upon the stairs;
he listened, but it came not,' though his ear was so acute as to have caught ils lightest ^l.— Thus, as he lay choked, thirsty, half delirious, all his cruelty to this little child haunted his brain with more terrible significance than all else which had sprung up out of bis iron creed of iso¬ lation. Every childlike and gracious act, every sympalhy she had shown him, every kind word which had fallen from her loving lips, weighed tenfold on his soul as accusations of injustice.— Every tear she had shed fell anew belore him; and to wipe them away a-s they thus fell anew, was as impossible as to dry up an ocean of the earlh; and of those bitter tears, the last and deepest were, those she had shed for the tuft of primroses. Oh, had he prized them as this chUd had prized them ; oh, had he looked upon them and shown less, harshness, and lesa cruelty; his wandering, haif delirious' brain knew, that in liitle gentle acts of mercy and care, their spirit¬ ual similitude would now bave crowded round his pillow, and cooled his parched and fevered lips !
He was suddenly aroused out of this lethargy of slow torture by a creaking, jolting noise in the shop beyond. He turned his glaring eyebaUs to the door which led inlo it, ihough he was powerless to do more. After sorae minute's si¬ lence, again he heard it; then again, after a pause lhere was a noise like a scratch of rats made continuously in one direction. Terror was now added lo fever and delirium; his glaring eye-balls watched the door wiih fearful earnest¬ ness; his brain could just comprehend that more than one person was in the shop, and to recollect that in the old buffet beside his bed, was a large sum in specie, received that day. At last, as m this maddening terror he anlicipated, the small bolt of the separating door was slowly moved back by some process on the other side ; the door gently opened, and a man's face was seen, then his whole body in a croucuing form. In an in¬ stant this figure was creeping towards his bed, followed by another in its shadow. Fear, horror, fever, all combined, his glaring eye-balls sank, his eye-lids closed, and he was senseless; ihough as sense waned into this senselessness, for a mo¬ ment, he was conscious that bewas rescued, and that the police were there. Only once more for many hours this consciousness fitfully returned, and no longer then, than lo half dream, as it were, that many faces crowded round his bed, many feet were tramping on the staircetse;— and some one said, that a man up-stairs bad been found dead, and a young child, helpless from fever, in the same chamber.
An April morning rose upon this night, and cast ils richest rays across the shadows of the golden draperies, and on the gorgeousness of the full-blown purplo hyacinth. It rested in a Pa¬ rian eup, which the hand of Thorwalsden had chiselled, and which for its great grace might have borne tbe Theban lotus. As thus it stood in the soft morning light, and adding richer odor to the many odors shed around this private chamber of the great Duke's daughter, the door opened, and Lady Augusta carae in, leading the way before a stalely, middled-aged man.
They stopped together before the hyacinth, for thus lo see it the Duke had been brought by his daughter. Struck by its extreme beauty, aod its contrast with the draperies around, he made some comment thereon.
' Yes, papa,' she answered,«these are the orig¬ nal draperies, and^since they have been up, many have been struck by their artistic beauty and grace, and the originality displayed. And I now often school myself for the whim I had concern¬ ing them.'
But the loving father did not hear her words. Flowers and draperies had passed from before his sight, and he was only conscious of the love¬ ly creature by his side, whose beauiy had never seemed to him so matchless as in this freshness of the morning.
' You must be my donor to day, Augusta,' he said at length, ' and give the sums named in a list the chaplain wUl give you, to the several charities likewise set down. You will recollect they are your own bounty. And now, I think, I must bid you good day, as I have engage¬ ments this mornings and to night several bills are to be brought up fbr discussion, in the Lord^, concerning the poor.'
He was saying ' good bye ' when a servant al¬ most abruptly entered, and said, the chaplain wailed in an adjoining room to speak to him on most pressing business. ' Let him waik in,' was the laconic answer. A grave looking man came in immediately with a hurried step.
' My Lord,'.;he said, ' a mosl extraordinary oc¬ currence has happened through the night, in which from cerlain papers found, your name js involved. In searching a house in which bur¬ glars had entered, the body of a man was found, who died, it is said, from fever and destitution ; this destitution arising, not indirectly, from the rnin caused by your Lordiship, and Lady Agus¬ ta, refusing to pay for some designs connected with draperies supplied. A little child was like¬ wise found In a state of raging fever. There will be an inquest, and your Lordship will have to attend.'
And Ihey who had so lately lalked of charity, the easy charily of wealth unearned, had been unconscious aclors in this tragedy of injustice : the one, through a thoughtless whim of igno¬ rance ; the other by referring such matters to agents and servants. The Duke, with the stern¬ er nature of a man, hid much which passed within, and passed from the room, wiih his chap¬ lain, to meel the parlies who waited below. But the Lady Augusta stood in the. same spot for minules, like one paralyzed, unable to meet the self-accusation which rose up before her, save by the plea of ig-norance and thoughtlessness. It was not till half unconsciously she knelt in the presence of that Grace, whose giving hand was dust for lack of bread, that haughtiness and pride, simply as facts of convention, fell before the genuineness of her woman's heart, and nat¬ ural tears brouglit with them the true ihought, that we are nothing uitless we arc hum.an to each other.
Three weeks passed on and brought an April Sabbath. It was that pleasant part of tho after¬ noon when the sun is cheerfullest, that looking into the cobbler's little room, he was to be seen in his best coat and polished shoes, and Esther in h«r tidiest shawl and gown preparing for walk; an unusual thing for the cobbler to take with his danghter. But there w^as somelhing unusual in their whole appearance. Having giving the fire a last little stir, and swung the kettle over, Esther took from a drawer an old blue pocket-handkerchief, and going to the win¬ dow sill, wrapped it round the old brown teapot with ils poor pale, single white hyacinth. There were tears in her eyes as she did this, as she had come to regard it as the type and sign of one in the burial-ground beiow, whose spirit had been so good and gentle—her mother; and since it had blown, she had taken to call this hyacinth her 'mother's garden.'
Without a word, she and her old father went out together, and stood in no long time before the flor¬ ist's door. No other than Joe, in a new suit of cloihes, let them in, andgently led the way up the slairs lo that old second-floor room. The same bed and furniture was 'm it, the same tuft of primrose above the fire-place, but all else was changed in the way of cleanliness and comforl; and in this old bed propped up by many pillows, aat aweet Charlotte, with somelhing spiritual in her face, for so had sick¬ ness worn it, whUst on the counterpane was not only Mr. Bob purring and tucked up like a hig stuffed pincushion, but a linnet in a little cage which Joe had brought her the day before. Esther wenl lightly in, and kissing Charlolie,said she had brought' Joe's hyacinth,' and setting it down on the rush chair beside the hed, was about to say something more concerning it, when the door again opened, and there came slowly—very slowly—in, whnt might have been'called the shadow ofthe old florist; so fearful had been his passage through the shadow of death. .As surprising as the rest, he leant on the arm of Mrs. Wink, who, robed in ber poor Sunday gown, carried the golden petalled hy¬ acinth in the other hand. Slow, very slow, the old man came towarda the bed, and standing there, he feebly look the flower from Mrs. Wink, and held it towards the child.
' Take it as a gift, a very little gift/ he said ; ' though let it be a sign, that I shall be no longer harsh and cruel, Charlotte: for I'm altered. Joe knows il, and so does Mrs Wink.'
.With this he hid his face, though the tears rain¬ ed throngh.hjs wasted fingers, while Mrs. Wink and Esther "slowly helped him to an easy chair.— There was a noise in the street. and'Joe, the only one alive to what was going on outside, peeped out, and then went down stairs, soon reluming in the rear of a lady and gentleman, and hearing what they had brought with them in the carriage, a little basket of fruit, some hooks, and Io ! still in its cup, the gorgeous purple hyacinth! Whilst the lady with gentle step went towards the bed, where leant that little spiritual face, the Duke's chaplain, for it was no other, seeing the two flowers upon the chair, took the purple hyacinth from the lad, and set it down beside them. The Three thus stood togelher; the White, the Purble, and the Golden; and their odor filled the room !
Presently guessing the lady and the chaplain's rank, Esther and herJather and Mrs. Wink were withdrawing , when the chaplain stayed them. * No,' he eaid, ' I have come thia afternoon to
serve in my office beside tbis Utile be«, and, there¬ fore, atisuch a moment, all human crea^res are as one. Kneel down with me, for we are before one throne and footstool.
So kneehng, and all around him kneeUng, t:^. cept the feeble old florist, beside these hvacintbs, the setting sun falling athwart them, and tneir odor fiUing the chamber hke the incense of a ewingiog censer, thua at last he added to his prayers for the sick and those of low estate ; for he was a steirn and truthful raan, and had searched inlo this little history far more in delail ihan I have here sjet down:
' Falher, let these thy flowers teach a true lesson to thy creatures. The purple sheds its hue uppn (he golden, the golden on ihc while, and eachia richer for the beauiy of its neighbor. The odor which in singleness would be mint, fills, through borrowing and lending sweetness, this chamber with the richest fragrance. Further, from these, let us leam, that if Thou ihought il well to deck the earth wilh many hues like these, instead of one
froat sameness, though of beauty, teach us to un- erstand that various degrees and qualities of men and mind equally enrich the earth, and beauttfy great nature. Tberefore, it is no point for godly or wise men lo wish or make a sameness, of which thy own great labor shows no signs; and therefore, our true wisdom lies in these two ihinga—the help¬ ing to harmonize this difllerence, and enriching and raising up to the same atrength and beauty as this purple flower, the weak, and faint, and lowly, like this white one. Teach us to do this, and isolation will and shaU no longer curse ua ; for what beauty is to the eye, sympathy is to human aouls. There¬ fore, nol to root up, or pull down, bul lo elevate; iherefore, not isolation but unity; therefore, not disregard but sympatpy, is taught by thy tsue text before us. Therefore, O Lord ! make the acls and lives of us thy people like the odor and beauiy of these hyacinths before heaven,'
He rose, and still the glorious sun fell down upon theae flowers. And none were deeper touched than haughly beauiy and exacdng avarice; but it took more than this to louch the cobbler's soul; though it was touched and robbed of its last shade of sat- urnineness, when he saw that Lady Augusla was u woman, and could minisier with infinue love for the aick child. Tho lasl fraclion of thc demagogue fell before this tonch of nature.
Time has gone on, and the old florist and sweet¬ est Charlotte, with Mrs. Wink for house-keeper, inhabit a rare cottage and rarer garden, amidst the greenness of the Surrey Hills. The business b^- mg sold in Covent Garden, Joe has passed into the grade of an aclive shopman, mostly spending his Sundays wilh his old masier, and vastly inlerested in Miss Charlotte's paintings and flowers; the lat¬ ter of which the old florist rears for her with loving hand. He is happier, for newer truth has fallen on his soul. Whilst as for the cobbler, he has boughl a buUfinch; and whilst taking to singing himsclf, goes witb Esther now and then to fetch it ground¬ sel from the Surrey Hills.
Thus as I have indicated my philosophy, m.y .service will he to bring it here i7i actiori. I shall recognise no class, whilst developing Truth, and Beauty, and Good : for my purpose is to elevate a7id create a harmony of soul. Therefore, in setting before all Tr7tth, and Beauty and Good, it is simply commingling the color and the odor of the three hyacinths before heaven, -
For the Examiner & Herald.
DEATH.
Death is thc Kcythc that levels all; The reaper of noth great and small; The dignified, tbo bold, tho brave. All ripen for the silent gnivo.
Of every age, nil, .ill are doomed To press thc cold, tho gloomy tomb; To-day man live?, to-morrow gone, Placed in a long nnd endless home.
None may csonjie, by .^ivord or shield, Hut calmly all to Death must yield; He roams abroad from day to day. And widely doth hi.s power display.
Death is existing everywhere; Time bids ua for our end prepare; Voa, every moment passing by ?^com3 tolling Death is drawing nigh
To reap u.s to that havve.'it there, Where 't \a too late to offer praj'er; IJncertaiii is life, a Hooting breath, iiut (.certain is triumphant Death. Manoi! Tvvr., fept. 18^19. F.'
For tin; Examiner A; Horald.
TIME.
We've left Lhe .shore, we've Fpread our saiin, Ailown the stream of Time we go,
Tho dashing waves and boistoron.'i gales Our fiagile bark rocks to and fio.
A skillful pilot now jwe need,
For daugeid lie on every side, As on we gn with rapid speed.
On Time's impetuous, swelling lide.
If wo the rudder should resign. To passion's licrco and reckloEis sway—
W'e on yome de.iert coast .shall pino, Where cragH aro white with dashing .''pray.
It then too late for ua shall bc,
Another pilot to engage— While all around wo ever see,
Time's fierce and dashing billows rage.
Oh ! shonld we not in earnest seek, Some skillful, trusty, friendly guido—
Who could of man}' daugerB speak, Witbout a fear of wind or tide.
Voa! such an one we greatly need. And such an one wc can obtain—
If we to counsel would give heod, Or truly wish to kuow his name.
On holy -writ his name doth Ptand, UceoVded there by those of old—
Who've gained the port, and wishod-for land. And now arc Inning harps of gold.
Then let us b.islo, and not debiy,
To .'^cek his aid :us on we go— We've left the shore—we cannut stay—
W'ithout his aid we 're doom'd fo woe.
Oh ! ^iavior comoa.': onco thou diil,
l'pon the wave^ of Galilee; Come to our bark—the tempest bid,
As tboii did^t then—at peace to be.
Then to the breeze our .^ail-s we'll spread. And .safely dowu thc stream we'll glidi*; W'u'ro by a glorious jiilot led. At anchor soon in port we'll ride East Cuventrv, Sept. 1849.
Important to tbe S^bllc«
THE subscriber respectfully informs the citi- lenft of the city and County of Lancaater. that ho has alwiys on hand AMERICAN MANUFACTURED LEAD AND IRON PIPE,
ofall sizea; HYDRANTS of every depcription, made, ioined and repaired: Hot aud Cold Water BATHS, WA- '"iR CLOSETS, SHOWER BATHS, CISTERN PUMPS, *°^LEAI> WORK of every description.
in?" Ail work done at thc phorteet notice and on the moflt rei^nableterms,at theoIdstaniEastKingStreet.
^r^S ^°i-181 JACOB GABLE, Jr.
N, B.—Hgiwirt price paid-for old Lead, Copper and Pewter    Old Irog taken in exchange for work.
S^lanes^ JPlanei^lanes.
TUST  received   at  Kline's Hardware Store,
"   North Q,uecn Street, a large lot of Bench and mould¬ ing PlaneB which will bo sold at manufacturem' prices. Sept. 5,1849.
WHY WILL YOIT SHAKE, when Macken- ' ' nie's Tonic Febrifuge, an aImo.''t infallible romedy for Ague and Fever. Dumb Ague, Chilb. Intermittent Fe¬ ver, and all the variouH fonn.^ of Bilious dlsea.se« may bv had at .MILLER'S Drug Sroar,
fit-pt 5 40] "West King fltroot, Lancaster.
RICE FLOUR.—The subscriber is in the re¬ ceipt of a supply of FeU's superfioo Rice Flour, for the preparation of Blanc Mange. Wafers, kc. and a-t an article of diet for children. GEO. A  .MILLER,
.sept 6 40] Druggi.st. West King Btreet, Lan.
Osgood's India Cholago^e. 'I'^HE Great Remedy for Fever and Ague.   Ic -*-   never failfi curing, if taken agreeably to the direc¬ tion.    A further supply just received and for sale at JOHN F. LONG'S Drug and Chemical store No, 8 North Queen st. Hcpt. 12 tf-41
Strays.
O AME to the subacriber in Salisbury jn;r=^;%# ^^ Townahip. about half a mile from George Iv^^n' Zoll^B Tavem on thc Downingtown and Har- J9h£h£ risburg turnpike, a dark brindle cow, about 9 years old, •2 white feet behind. 3 tits and a cream colored heifer, about 2 years old. The owner i/t reftucstcd to take them away, or they will he disposed of aa the law directs JOHN NORTHEIMER. Oct 10   3t-45
Mi;
For the Examiner & flentid
A SIMILE.
Seo tho ro.^e, eo bright, so guy, Lose it.-i fnigranco in an hour;
.So soon it.'; beauties pas.s away. Vet we are like that flower.
Early dew drojia glisten there— It breathes its odors round;
At noon it ih no longer fair. At cvo 'tis spread upon the ground.
Let UP, then, improvo our time, As it ceaseless hatjte.'^ away,
'TiU onr sun in sniiloa decline.
To rise in au cndle:vS day. ^•
Raising Blood and Consumption,
Painin thc side and Nt^hl  Sweats, */lsthma.  Whoopin;;
Cough, Palpitation oJ   the Heart, Liver  Complaint,
Bronchitas.  and  all   Di sra ses   of thc   Throat,
Lungs and Livei-, cured Ly SHERMJIN'S
All-Healing    Balsam!!!
RAISING BLOOD and CONSUMPTION.— Mr. Milne. Builder, in Brooklyn, waa attacked with raising blood, followed by a cough. j)aln in the side, and all tbe usual sj-mptoms ot consumption. He employed two of (he best physician.^ j thcy dtd him no good and told him he col'ld not livk. Hearing of the wonderful cures performed by Sherman's BaNam. he sent at 10 o'¬ clock at night to Mr.s. Hayo.s, 139 Fulton etreet, and got a bottle; it operated likc a charm, stopped the bleeding and the cough ! Before he had taken one bottle he waa able to bo about hia work. It had saitd hi3 life. His daughter, residing at 127 Myrtle Avenue, can attest it.
MiPS Ann Ma-^un. of Wjll Jams buryh, living jn Tenth, near South Fourth Htreet, says:—Tbat ahu had bccu troubled with a hackiuj; cough aud pain in the chest, for a long time, which at lri:?t became m bad that she wa.s obliged to give up her .school for more than a year. She then commenced taking the AU-Healing Babjam—which aoon alleviated her symptoms. She is now fast recover¬ ing, and has resumed herlaborious occupation as a teach¬ er. 14 vEAiifl Mr. John O'-N'cil, 10th avenue and 2l8t street, suffered with a cough, raising of phlegm, and pain in his side. Hc could get -no atLiF.t- tiU he tried the AU- He^Iing Balsam, which drove the pain from hia side, al¬ layed the cough, and brought the disease upon the sur¬ face ; and before he had taken three bottles, was entire¬ ly cured.
PLEamSY AND CONSUMPTION.
Mrfl. Bagga-s, a lady upwards of 70, residing SS SheriEf, has for years been subject to attacks of Pleurisy. Raising of Blood, .severe Cough, shortncs.s of Breath, Pain in her Head and various parts ofher body. Herfriends believ¬ ed her PASTRECOTERv. The AU-Healing Balsamrelieved her at once of all her alarming symptonus, and now ahe is able to attend to her work. IS ASTHMA AND -WHOOPING COUGH.
Mrs. Lucretia AV ells, 95 Christie street; L, S, Btala, 19 Delancey .street; Wm. H. Youujjs. T.t Walnut street, know the value of this great remedy.
Ask for Shermau's All-Hcallug Bai.sam, and see that his written signature is on each bottle.
Price 25 cents and $1 per bottle.
Dr. Sherman's Worm and Cough Lozengc-j sold as above.    Sold iu Lancaster only at the Bookstore of J. GISH & BROTHER.
may 16 21] North Queen st.
OCTOBER.
ny  TIIK   I.ATK  WII.M.S G.VYI.UlMi  CI..\KK.
Polemn, yet beautiful to view,
iVIonthof ray heart! thon dawnest here. With sad and "laded leaves to strow
The suiuiner's inclancholy bior. The moaning of tby ¦winds I hear.
As thc red sunset dies afar, And bars of purple clouds appear,
Obscuring-overy western star.
Thou solemn montii! 1 hear thy voice :
It tolls my .'?oul of other dny.s, -VVhen but to live was to rejoice.
When earth was lovelier fo my ga^e I Oh, vi.sion bright—ob, blessed hours.
Where ave their living rapture.s now I 1 a^jk my spirit's wearied powers—
1 :isk my pale and fcvercl brow !
1 look to rvaturo nnd behold
My lifcV dim eniblcui rustling around, tn hue of crimson and of gold—
Thc year's dead honor on the groimd; And, .«ighing with thc winds, I feel
While thoir low pinions murmur by. How much their sweeping tones reveal
Of lifo and buman destiny.
Whon Spring's delightsome moments shone.
They uame in zephyrs from the West, Thcy bore tho wood lark'.s melting tone.
They stirred the bluo lake's glassy breast; Through Summer, fainting m the beat,
Tbey lingered in the forest shade; Rut changed and atrcngtUonod now, they bent
[q storm, o'er mountain, glen and glade.
How liko tho.sc transports of tho brea.st
When life is freeh and joy is new. Soft as the halcyon's downy nest.
And transient all as they are truo! They stir tho leaves in that brigbl wreath
Which Hope nbout her forehead twines. Till Grief's hot sighs around it brcatbe,
Then Pleaauro's lip its smile re-Mgiis.
Alas, for Time* and Death, and Care,
What gloom about ont way they fling ! Uke clouds in Autumn's gusty air,
Tbo burial pageant »f the Spring: The dreaiu.s of each .luccessivo year
S?eemed bathed in hues .of brighter pride, Atlast like withered heaps anpear.
And sleep in darkness sido by t^ide !
To Printers.
3 PRES
Api)\y at thia office.
A   K.4.MAGE PRESS for sale cheap for cashi
ELEGANT WRITING DESKS of aeveral vii; rietia^iu.-it received at SPANGLER ^ BROTHER'S Oct 10 45] Cheap Book Store.
DR. HALSEY'S FOREST    WIIVE,
Better, Pleasanttr, and more Effective ihan any Remedy
ever Discovered; cures without Purgini; or Nauseating;
can be taken at any time without Hindrance from
Business; and possesses a DeliglUful, Bitter
Flavor, almost equal in taste to good Part
Wine, and by far
THE CHEAPEST MEDICINE IN THE WORLD •
Being now putnp in Quart Bottles for One Dollar, Vfhile
the Contents of One Bottle goes farther and produces
Ten times as much good, in the cure of Disease,
as thesams quantity ofany other remedy in use,
¦pELLOW CITIZENS, Phyeiciang, Men of Sci- ¦*¦ ence, Tradesmeu, Farmers, ard Ladies, in placing at your command the best and most valuable IVJediclne, ever known to Man, nt a price rcnrcely covinng its original cost, we can give you the most contideniial assu¬ rance ihat. for ils Medical Virlues, Excellence, and Cheapness, it has no equal; and that for ils powers m curing ihe sick and disordered, noi the least doubt can be enlerlained of ils superioruy to every oiher remedy iuuse, as it has in lis favor ihc raost unequivocal and respectable testimonials in America, iboueantlsofwhora owe Iheir healih and exisience to its great virmes.
Good chemists are well aware thai almostevery vege¬ table plant, in its crude state, contains various different properues, and frequenily these properiies arc precinely opposite in character. The same pluui may conlain ex¬ celleni medicinal virtues, al jJie aame time deleterious pronerucB. Now, l)y the commoii me'.hods of preparing medicines, (which is by boiling.) ihc true medicinal prop¬ erties are not only partially lost by evaporation, but the bad quahlies being boiled out togelher wilh the ^ood, renders all decoctions ihus prepared almost devoid of good efiecls. This, togetherwith thc free usc of molasses and liquorice, accounts, in some measure, for the want ' ofefRcacy of many medicines, particularly those numer¬ ous prepurar.oMs called Extracts of Sart^aparilla. Not so Willi the Forest Wine. Thia article is not prepared by boiling, nor does it contain any molasses, liquorice, or syrup whatever; but is the pure wineofnianyof the mosl valuable native and exolic plants in the known world, including lhe WitD Cherry and SARSAPARaLA-f prepared by means of a wonderful chemical apparalus, by which the true medicinal properiies are extracted and separated from every useless property, retaining those qualities only which aci in unity and harmoni2e wi:li the life principle of tlie human systcni. To this may be ascribed lhe many miraculous euros made by the Forest Winc, as well as its delightful flavor.
THE FOKEST WINE Is recommended for lhe permanent cure of Dropsyi Gravel, Jaundice. Dispepsia, Co-^tivcnf.«,¦;, Rheuinotism Goul, Lossof Appetite, complamis of thn: Liver, Hearl, Kidneys and Stomach, Colds, Cough!^, and Consumptive Declines.
In .4gi«and F^uer lhe Forest Wtne is a certain and speedy cure, having never been known to i'ailin,breaking tha ague; and is equally effective iii Nervous Disorders and General Debility. Invigorates and renews the worn out or prostrated Slate of tlie constitution. Ilis invaluable for persons in any kind of delicale health.
The Forest VVine is a (iel'ghtfiil medicine for the La¬ dies. It is higldy recommended ior those complaints lo wliich delicale females nre suhject.
GREAT MEDICINE FOR SPRhVG AND SUMMER, having the power to restore those ill-important evacua¬ tions throughdio pores of theskin called INSENSIBLE PERSPlRAlON.and to give PURE BLOOD, without which none can enjoy genuine good heolth. In places where ihe Forest Winc is best knoivn, it is very com¬ mon for individuals, iu lbe spring of ihe year, to procure two or three, and some a halfdozen Bottles as a purify¬ ing and slrengthening medicine for the gfiiiend use of Iheir families, lo save them from sickness during tha warm and sickly seasons.
Its action in the blood is so effectual that all Cuta- neous Eruplions, Scrofula, Salt Rheum, and Erysipelas, soon becomes entirely healed up and cured.
Nearly all complaints are aliended wilh morbid condi¬ tion of the siomach. bowels, and secreiive organs, tt is, Iherefore, important that these functions be reslored, and the bile and morbid matter of the slomach and bow¬ els expelled, in order 10 allow lhe Forest Wirio to act more readily, and thus produce us great results, poi this purpose ^^
I>R. HALSEt^'S
GUM-COATED FOREST PILLS ARE DESIGNED,
one or ihedoscsofwhich. in many diseases'tn-e absolute¬ ly necessary on beginning with the Wine, in order to put the sysiem in jiroper condiiion lo receive its eiuiro vir¬ tues. The action of the Forest Pills harmonize with that ofllic Wine. They invigorate ihc secretive functions, enable the lactaels to take up the medicinal poperties of the Wine, and incorporate them wilh the blood. The Forest Fills partake <tf the virtuesof the Wine, They are a mild, efficacious, vegetable purgaiive. Jn addr.iou to the above cxcellonL quahues, Ihey are coated with pure gum Arabic, (a new di.?covery,) which renders them healing to the stomach and bowels, as well as agree¬ able lo take.
SPRING COMPLAINTS.
At iho beginning of warm weaiher many persons are aiilicted with Head Ache, Feverish, Keakn^ss, Lassitude, and Want of Appetite. Duriug wiincr thc hlood becomes thiuk and impure, stomach billiou.-;, and the pores ofthe skin partially closed, which togelher gives rise to the above complaints.. The change of cold weather to Uiat of warm, require a change in the fluids of the body and the free eihilatibns of the ekiii. Dr. Halsey s I-orest Wine and Pills enable nature to adapl herself to ihe vi¬ cissitudes of the peaF..n5. Oneoruvo dosesof thePiIls, and lhe use of a single boule oi the Ume, besides curing The abo?e complaims, render the system capable of re¬ sisting disease during the summer and iickly seasons
The following testimony, received from a reapectable resident of Philadelphia, is a striking evidence of the lffi).ncv ofthe Foresi Wine in these strange disorders:—
5LNGULAR CASE  OF   NERVOUS  DEBILITY CURED.
OR. G. VV. Halset— ,.   ,       ,
This is to ceriify ihal my wife has been cured of a dreadful nervous affeciion, with which she has been ailiicted five years Sometimes she was sobad ihal we Ihought she would get crazy. Otteiiiimes. she would awake in the uead of night, infrigbu'ulecreamsandago- ny. covered wtth perspiration and quiteexhausted. Her body was almosi wasted away, and she wns continually apprehensive that something dreadful was aboutto hap¬ pen 10 her.
In Ihis axvful condition she continued until July, when I procured a bottle ofyour Foreai Wine and a box of your Pills. We soon found they helped her very much ; and Isenlfor three boules more of the Wine, which sha has continued lo take unlil this time, although she ii now 30 well that she does not require any more. She is qoite a differeni person, and is petting fieshy, has a iieallhy color, enjoys herself and ihc society of her friends. She believes your excelleni medicines hasbeen Ihemcans of saving her life.       Ymirs. Ac,  ,,,„,„„
PhUadelphia Sep.7, \SA3.    JOSEPH C. PAULDING
10=* I am well acquainied wnh the lamily ol Mr. J 0. Paulding, and know Mrs. Paulding to havebeen la¬ boring under affeciions of the mind and body ior some years and that she is now well, havmg recovered from the use oc Dr. Halsey's mcd.cu..^. ^^^^^^ ^ ^
Sold in Lancaster by May 16 2-1
ZAHM & JACKSON,
North Queen Street.