brow of the pioneer's child.Thou land whose last hamlets were circled with maize,
And lay like a dream in the silence profound,
While murmuring its song through the dark woodland ways
The stream swept afar through the lone hunting-ground: —
Now loud anvils ring in that wild forest home
And mill-wheels are dashing the waters to foam.
Thou land where the eagle of Freedom looked down
From his eyried crag through the depths of the shade,
Or mounted at morn where no daylight can drown
The stars on their broad field of azure arrayed: —
Still, still to thy banner that eagle is true,
Encircled with stars on a heaven of blue!
GOING TO HEAVEN
Whatever our gifts may be, the love of imparting them for the good of others brings Heaven into the soul. Mrs. Child.
An old man, with a peaceful countenance, sat in a company of twelve persons. They were conversing, but he was silent. The theme upon which they were discoursing was Heaven; and each one who spoke did so with animation.
"Heaven is a place of rest," said one – "rest and peace. Oh! what sweet words! rest and peace. Here, all is labor and disquietude. There we shall have rest and peace."
"And freedom from pain," said another, whose pale cheeks and sunken eyes told many a tale of bodily suffering. "No more pain; no more sickness – the aching head will be at rest – the weary limbs find everlasting repose."
"Sorrow and sighing shall forever flee away," spoke up a third one of the company. "No more grief, no more anguish of spirit. Happy, happy change!"
"There," added a fourth, "the wounded spirit that none can bear is healed. The reed long bruised and bent by the tempests of life, finds a smiling sky, and a warm, refreshing, and healing sunshine. Oh! how my soul pants to escape from this world, and, like a bird fleeing to the mountains, get home again from its dreary exile."
"My heart expands," said another, "whenever I think of Heaven; and I long for the wings of a dove, that I may rise at once from this low, ignorant, groveling state, and bathe my whole soul in the sunlight of eternal felicity. What joy it will be to cast off this cumbersome clay; to leave this poor body behind, and spread a free wing upon the heavenly atmosphere. I shall hail with delight the happy moment which sets me free."
Thus, one after another spoke, and each one regarded Heaven as a state of happiness into which he was to come after death; but the old man still sat silent, and his eyes were bent thoughtfully upon the floor. Presently one said,
"Our aged friend says nothing. Has he no hope of Heaven? Does he not rejoice with us in the happy prospect of getting there when the silver chord shall be loosened, and the golden bowl broken at the fountain?"
The old man, thus addressed, looked around upon his companions. His face remained serene, and his eye had a heavenly expression.
"Have you not a blessed hope of Heaven? Does not your heart grow warm with sweet anticipations?" continued the last speaker.
"I never think of going to Heaven," the old man said, in a mild, quiet tone.
"Never think of going to Heaven!" exclaimed one of the most ardent of the company, his voice warming with indignation. "Are you a heathen?"
"I am one who is patiently striving to fill my allotted place in life," replied the old man, as calmly as before.
"And have you no hopes beyond the grave?" asked the last speaker.
"If I live right here, all will be right there." The old man pointed upward. "I have no anxieties about the future – no impatience – no ardent longings to pass away and be at rest, as some of you have said. I already enjoy as much of Heaven as I am prepared to enjoy, and this is all that I can expect throughout eternity. You all, my friends, seem to think that men come into Heaven when they die. You look ahead to death with pleasure, because then you think you will enter the happy state you anticipate – or rather place; for it is clear you regard Heaven as a place full of delights, prepared for those who may be fitted to become inhabitants thereof. But in this you are mistaken. If you do not enter Heaven before you die, you will never do so afterward. If Heaven be not formed within you, you will never find it out of you – you will never come into it."
These remarks offended the company, and they spoke harshly to the old man, who made no reply, but arose and retired, with a sorrowful expression on his face. He went forth and resumed his daily occupations, and pursued them diligently. Those who had been assembled with him, also went forth – one to his farm, another to his merchandize, each one forgetting all he had thought about Heaven and its felicities, and only anxious to serve natural life and get gain. Heaven was above the world to them, and, therefore, while in the world, they could only act upon the principle that governed the world; and prepare for Heaven by pious acts on the Sabbath. There was no other way to do, they believed – to attempt to bring religion down into life would only, in their view, desecrate it, and expose it to ridicule and contempt.
The old man, to whom allusion has been made, kept a store for the sale of various useful articles; those of the pious company who needed these articles as commodities of trade, or for their own use, bought of him, because they believed that he would sell them only what was of good quality. One of the most ardent of these came into the old man's store one day, holding a small package in his hand; his eye was restless, his lip compressed, and he seemed struggling to keep down a feeling of excitement.
"Look at that," he said, speaking with some sternness, as he threw the package on the old man's counter.
The package was taken up, opened, and examined.
"Well?" said the old man, after he had made the examination, looking up with a steady eye and a calm expression of countenance.
"Well? Don't you see what is the matter?"
"I see that this article is a damaged one," was replied.
"And yet you sold it to me for good." The tone in which this was said implied a belief that there had been an intention of wrong.
A flush warmed the pale cheek of the old man at this remark. He examined the sample before him more carefully, and then opened a barrel of the same commodity and compared its contents with the sample. They agreed. The sample from which he had bought and by which he had sold was next examined – this was in good condition and of the best quality.
"Are you satisfied?" asked the visitor with an air of triumph.
"Of what?" the old man asked.
"That you sold me a bad article for a good one."
"Intentionally?"
"You are the best judge. That lies with God and your own conscience."
"Be kind enough to return every barrel you purchased of me, and get your money."
There was a rebuke in the way this was said, which was keenly felt. An effort was made to soften the aspersion tacitly cast upon the old man's integrity, but it was received without notice.
In due time the damaged article was brought back, and the money which had been paid for it returned.
"You
