THE WEST SHORE.
July.
158
WHO KNOWS?
HV J. T. MORRISON.
Who kiiows what life i o'er the nileut river,
What fertile brain can guess of the beyond
Are a.m and heart-achea known no more forever,
D m sympathetic soul to soul respond (
Do flowers bloom beyond the silent river,
Ttair fragrance till the air with sweet perfume
'Jire loving friuiidn united there forever,
Are there no broken Ubs beyond the tomb P
Are hill-tops green beyond the silent river,
Do cooling shadows rest beneath the true
Are clouds and darkness banished there forever,
And t (import changed to gentle fanning breeze
Are there DO tears beyond the silent river,
Will only gladness from their fountains How r
When we have crossed life's path to tread forever,
That now we hope we then fMTAejM shall know,
I Tit Ac a, N. Y., July 1, 1878.
AN Ol'TSMlKK IN "OUAKM
MEETING."
'rfiiocting. I his is ft revcUliwn to
fltld as r ; iiyik iif j lit ui("i tuHateiti
cents who, doubtless in the seclusiot
bV AlOUSTA AI.I.KN.
It is Sunday morning in the glorious
spring-time. The air is balmy ami
sweet with the breath of buds and
blossoms, as I bend my steps toward
the place ni' worship, It is a half hour
earlier than the time named for service
to begin, but I wish to look about)
without Seeming rude. As I open the
wicket gate, and step into the yard
I am struck with the contrast between
this and other churches. No massive
columns, no graceful arches, nor point
ed gables excite the admiration of the
beholder and no steeple point skyward.
The church is one story in height,
brown in color and as plain as a build
big can be made. It is half sur
rounded by a wide porch, at each
-end of which is a dressing room,
where superfluous wrappings may be
left. One of these rooms is fur
ttltlhed with chairs and a stove. 1
ask the j tnltor the use of the little sit
ing fOOrn, and he tells me, that it is for
the accommodation of mothers, wlose
crying ehildrerT disfurthe peace of the
' shotting. This is fl revelation to me,
smn ot
this spAf.have been religiously spanked
iitto pi oper tl Kirst-day" silence, I
smother a sigh, and pass out to view
the sin i mindiugs. There arc se oral
hi the plain board fence, and each
of the si- ii tilled with a platform just
thigh enough to enable the dear old
people tn step with ease from the ve
hicles in which they come. Prom the
platform are steps leading down into
the yard. Outside, are hitching posts,
and ov er many of these, shed?, are built
for the protection of the horses from
hot lunihlnfl or pelting storms. "Sure
ly," 1 think, "A merciful man is mer
ciful to his beast." Just back of the
church is the grave yard, with a feel
fag of solemnity 1 enter it. Where are
the snowy marble sbibs, the richly
tinted monumental and the costly vaults
that We .lie wont to see in the silent
cities of the dead? Where the epi
taphs, i'i which stricken ones eek In
make known the loving appteciatlon,
which toe often finds upon the cold
-.tone its first expression. Grasty
tmouniltnnd uncarved, unlettered -.tunes
-in. nk t!ie grave. Loving hands have
planted flowers upon some of them;
and old mother Nature has here reared
many monuments in the form of great
trees, among whose branches the Spring
breCtes softly whisper. Perhaps they
breathe the names of the departed;
here is missing that distinction between
the graves of the rich and poor, which
is so pall' fully apparent in other ceme
teries; for the grass is just a-blight in
tint above one as another, and the
golden sunbeams lend their radiance
alike W alii I find here much food for
ihuuht, but my meditations are cut
ihort b carriage wheels, the noise of
which tells me that the congregation
fat began to aaeetnblci No bell with
its deep, solemn tones, tells these peo
ple that the hour for worship is at
hand. Worldly, indeed, they think,
must be the Christian, who require
an outward call to the house of God.
Thoughtfully I "retrace my steps to the
church and humbly take a back seat,
where, unobserved, I can satisfy the
curiosity which, I confess, has brought
me hither. The interior is as barren
of ornament as the exterior. The
walls and ceiling are white as snow,
and the pine floor vies with them in
purity. The wood work is painted
drub, and the seats arc clad in the same
sombre hue. The glass in the win
dows is unstained, and no dark shutters
exclude the rays of the sun. There is
no pulpit; but, facing the part of the
room to be occupied by the main con
gregation, are eight benches reaching
clear across the room, each rising one
step higher than the preceding one.
These seats have high backs, and are
cushioned with grey cloth. Reaching
lengthwise through the centre of the
room is a wooden partition arranged to
slide up or down at pleasure. At
present, it is thrown open as wide as
possible, and reaches from the Moor
just to my shoulder as I sit. Hut the
congregation is assembling, and claims
my whole attention.
I notice that the young people take
the back seats nearest the door; the
middle-aged, the front seats; while the
old folks occupy the slightly elevated
scats, of which I have spoken. All
take their places with a silence befitting
the occasion. There is no restless
turning of hymn book leaves, for no
books are here; no impatient waiting
for the music to begin, for choir and
organ are alike unknown in this place.
I notice that the partition of which I
made mention, separates the men from
tie women, The old ladies are clothed
in bplailtest colors drab, bron and
black. Thc drTrss is full and untritmned.
Over the shoulders is pinned a snowy
kerchicf which is folded and crossed
upon the breast, extending to the waist.
Over this is worn a shawl or cape the
same shade as the dress. The hair is
put smoothly back beneath a white
cap, and over this is worn the drab
bonnet, made of silk, shaped very
much like the shaker sunbonnet, worn
a few years ago, and still occasionally
to be seen. The bonnet is lined with
white silk, and forms a fit frame for the
placid face which looks calmly from
the depths thereof upon the things of
the outer world. I take the liberty to
peep over the partition, and notice that
the men, too, are clad in drabest drah,
with cutaway coats and high vests,
something after the style of one hun
dred years ago; while upon their beads
the broad-brimmed hats ( unremoved
during worship, exactly like the pic
tures which I have always supposed to
be caricatures. But here they are be
fore me, painful realities, wholly lack
ing in beauty and comfort; there is but
one redeeming trait about them, and
that is their color, which I confess, docs
not dazzle the eyes with its brilliancy.
j The bonnetl worn by the matrons
: and young women are not sp deep as
those already described, more Bating in
form and shirred. The hair is plainly
coiled or braided. The dress is plain yi
color and innocent of (luting, rutlle or
overskirt, while a neat linen collar fin
ishes the neck. No jewelry of any
kind is to be seen, and the brightest
color visible is in. the cheeks and eves
of the pretty girls, some of whom
wear their cunning little bonnets with
a jaunty grace, winch betrays the
WoridllnCM of the wearer in spite of
the Quaker garb.
Right before me sits a rouguish Miss
from whose auburn tresses gleams a
scarlet ribbon, w hich I know to have
been smuggled there when father and
mother were not observing. At the
throat of a black-eyed maid, with dim
ples on cheek and chin, I see a knot of
pink, the envy of her neighbors, as their
little frowns tell me, and the admira
tion of the youths just over the parti
tion, as their stolen glances testify. I
look out of the window at the green
grass all a-sparkle with gems of dew;
at the wild rose turning their bright
petals to the blue sky, and I wonder
what would be the effect if God had
made the grass black, the flowers drab,
and the sky "ombre brown. A robin,
with the brightest sunshine on his red
bfeast, hops upon the porch, and a
golden hemp bird sways upon a twig
near by. I turn to look again at the
girls, and to thank our Father that this
heaven-born love for the brightly beau
tiful cannot be crushed out of young
hearts. There is perfect silence in the
room. As I look about on the down
cast eyes and thoughtful faces, some
thing of that same spirit of quiet and
rest steals into my own heart, and as I
realize that we are a people waiting
before the Lord for his blessing, the
feeling deepens into solemnity, and I
feel that the King of Glory is indeed
in our midst. The very atmosphere
breathes of love, and tends to lift us
nearer to the Author of holiness. A
mother in Israol rises, and removing
the bonnet from her head, breaks the
solemn silence thus: "The swords
shall be beaten into ploughshares and,
the spears into pruning hooks. Nation
shall not lift up sword against nation;
neither shall they learn war anymore."
With her bands of snowy hair, her
sweet placid face, she seems the very
personification of Peace, as her soft
voice rises and falls in that musical,
half singing tone. She says naught of
the horrors of war, but th discourse is
all concerning the joys of peace; and
she tells us of the bright world, where
there shall be tlti tyVtr.Offjtrife, bnt per
fect and everlasting peace, for "The
Lamb is the light thereof." Again
the deep silence falls upon us, and it
seems to me that the wings of the
Angel of Peace are hovering above us,
that the very stillness breathes the ex
quisite harmony of the glorious old
anthem, " Peace on earth, good will
to men ! "
I hear the birds among the branches
just outside, pouring out their little
voices in glad praises to God, but I feel
that hcrt each soul is in communion
with its Maker, and that such worship
transcends any which the tongue could
ofler. At last the selemn stillness is
broken by a tiny rustling sound, and
looking up, I see that the venerable
couple, who occupy the highest seats
nearest the partition, have turned each
to the nearest friend, extending the
right hand; and now all through the
little church, such a handshaking be
gins as I never before witnessed; and
the air is filled with the subdued mur
mur of cheery voices.
In this social feast even " the stran
ger within the gates" is not forgotten;
but many are the warm hands which
grasp mine in cordial welcome, while
soft voices ask, u How art thou ?" And
one after another says, "Thou art a
stranger in our midst, wilt thou go
home w ith nie and have dinner rM As
the congregation lingers, loth to de
part, I miss the young people, and
looking out, see the youths and maidens
gathered in little groups on the green,
chatting and laughing with a freedom
which I am surprised to see upon a
"first day," and at meeting. Rut why
should it not be thus ? Our Heavenly
Father has implanted in voung hearts
this love ot innocent mirth, and so I
rejoice with them that the cruel par
tition does not extend outside the
church door. At last the carriages are
brought to the platforms, the farewells
are exchanged, and I realize that for
to-day " meeting " is over. As I
thoughtfully turn my face homeward, I
contrast what I to-day have seen with
the Sunday worship in our fashionable
churches where poor people dare
not go, where piped organs and hired
singers praise the Lord for the congre
gation, the members of which vie with
each other in costly style of dress and
studied grace of posture, and who after
service hasten from the church as if its
very atmosphere proves stifling, spend
ing nut a moment m friendly inter
change of sentiment; leaving stran
gers, who have v a ulered in, to feel
that even among so-called Christian
brethren exists an indifference, and a
coldness, which chills the heart,
I shall carry to-day's revelation with
me through life, that the thought of it
may afford a spiritual feast, when for a
moment I am tempted to believe that
the world holds naught that is pure and
real. And so my heart swells with
praise to God for this sweet experience
of an outsider in a "Quaker meet
THE EATON SETTLEMENT, CLARKE
COUNTY, W. T.
To those who design settling upon
railroad or government lands in this
county, I-know of no better opportuni
ties than may be found in and around
the Eaton settlement. It is situated on
the north side of the East fork of
Lewis river, and is about eight miles
cast of La Centre, and five miles north
east of StOUghton, the nearest trailing
point and steamboat landing. Here the
pioneer is not compelled to grapple
with the huge and stubborn fir tree in
the work of opening, 'up a hewirtfljra
There are extensive tracts of 'swale,
land in' its stead, covered with a dense
growth of brush, which, bcingIashctl
and burned at the proper time, j com- ,
parativny easy to clear, ' The soil is
remarkably rich and productive, free
from rocks and gravel, and easily
drained and brought under cultivation.
The prarie and beaver-dam land is still
more readily brought under subjection,
and the advantage of securing even a
small portion of these lands described
must be obvious to everyone acquainted
with opening a farm in this country.
There is a beautiful little stream called
Rock Creek, flowing through this set
tlement, that should not be passed un
noticed. It rises in the neighboring
hills, and being fed by numerous
springs, it never dries. During the
larger portion of the year, it has suffi
cient volume of water to afford good
mill privilege, and a sawmill (raj
doubtless be erected here at no distant
day. But these arc not the only in
ducements that are held out to the set
tler here. It is a quiet, peaceful anil
: prosperous neighborhood, remarkably
free from those prejudices, jealousies
j and personal animosities, that blight
j the prospect, mar the peace, and stifle
the growth of some communities. The
'school advantages here are also com
Iparatively good. A Sabbath school.
I well attended and having about fifty
members is another evidence ot u
morality and public spirit manifested
here. If any should wish to go to this
locality in search of land, 1
respectfully refer them to Jos. EaU,
who will cheerfully give them all the
information desired. He is an old n'
dent, a reliable man, and will verify tP
statements in this article. Oft
couver Register.
A Salem chap dreamed for twenty
consecutive nights that he was
carriage riding, and couldn't imajfDt
any reason for the fact until he discov
ered that his bed was a little buggj".