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Suggested by hearing a Sermon preached by Father A . •
Jiyan, the Poet Print of the South.
BY E. E. B.
I.
It matters not how plain the face,
If but the soul be beautiful,
Outbeaming with a kindly grace,
And ever meek and dutiful.
It matters not how plain the dress,
If there’s a noble soul within;
God ne’er regards the wearer less,
If but the heart be free from sim
11.
It matters not how low the cot,
If dear ones cluster ’round the hearth;
Though dark and stern the poor man’s lot,
Love makes a Paradise of earth.
If true contentment nestles there
With guileless joy and honest worth,
His treasure is more brightly fair
Thau all the glittering gems of earth.
in.
Though Mammon’s slave may paes his home
With curling lip and scornful eye,
’Twill matter not, when Christ shall come,
To gather jewels for the sky;
For then the “ mite,” if freely given—
Or “ cup of water,” in His name,
Will weigh more, in the scales of Heaven,
Than all Pride’s haughty altars’ flame.
IV.
It matters not, though men may scorn—
Oh! ye who labor for the right,
Who catch, through vistas dimly seen,
Faint gleams of the miilenial light;
And ever “ Is it come ?” ye say,
As grey mists sweep the eastern sky;
Toil bravely on, for, lo! the dawn—
The morning, cometh by-and-by.
V. N
It matters not—this bjtter toil—
The heavy cross—the weary sigh—
If rest shall crown the wftd turmoil,
And joy, the grief in yonder sky;
If crosses shall be beautified,
If Love directs the chastening rod,'
It Heaven awaits us o’er the tide,
'Tis well to live and trust in God.
iv.
Thou, too, oh! glorious Poet-Priest,
Who seekest, less for human fame
Than to outspeak the holy thoughts
Inwritten with a holy flame—
-0! boldly speak, yet lovingly,
Till men shall learn to love each other,
And hands clasp firm and tenderly,
And hearts thrill at the name of ‘ ‘Brother! ’ ’
For the Banner of the South.
The Carrier Dove.
[concluded,]
ACT 111.
{Scene in a robber's cave in the Pyr
enees.)
Anselm—How is this ? you are asleep,
robbers. Let me see your eyes brighten
up, when I tell you the news; our Land
lord ishupting to-day on the mountain.
Thou shalt, ere long, hear the blast of his
horn—the bark of his dogs.
Bonilfet—Our Landlord is too perse
vering. His hunts are dispersing our
cattle, and turning them away from their
quiet pastures.
Condotti—What shall we do to put a
stop to his hunts ? Come, let us devise
some plan.
Anselm—Come, let us seize him* He
will pass this way on his long tramp ;
for Landlord and Tenant—our feet are
our horses.
(Rinaldo and Armand are there, behind
a rock. Rinaldo moves farther off
and seats himself as if resting. Ar
mand returns to his mother and sis
ter.)
Biuno—Comrades, we know that our
depredations have not been alone for plun
der’s sake, but for revenge, also. We hate
tiie Lowlanders. We are armed for our
honor, as well as our purses.
Condotti—Our honoris in a disreputa
blc state, as long as we have no leader.
Come, let us seize our lord, and com
pel him to lead us to victory. Then we
can make the firebrand and the sword
conquer tyranny. *
Anselm—Let it be so, my comrades.
The world shall then know that the fol
lowers of Lord DeLaigle will brave the
tempest, and defy the storm. Hut, come!
what is the source of our discontent ?
Are we not happy in our mountain
homes ? Can aught trouble us here ?
Bonilfet—Yes; their mean spite
troubles us. Can we go into the Valley
towns as honest men, without hearing
their scorn ? Can we go to get a pound
of sweetening, or a grain of Indian ber
ry»to make a beverage for our sick wo
men, that they do not tax our purses to
the last extent of endurance ?
Anselm—This is so, comrades. They
tax heavily when we buy, and give us
l.ttle patronage for what we sell. You,
Hruffo, go and reconnoitre the hunt. In
the meantime, we will rest here, for the
coming storm will blow firerclv and
tliey will find it hard work to stem its
blast.
( fix# Bruffo, around the rocks. When
he gets above the cave, he sees llinaldo
silting on a rock, looking over the
1 alley.)
Linaldu—Well, Bruffo; where are you
from, that way ? Did you come over the
chasm ?
Bruflfo—(Lifting his hat.) Yes, sire.
Rimildo—l have wound far up the
mountain’s side, and descended here, to
find the chamois and the fallow deer, and,
after all my trouble, see nothing-.
Bruffo—l can conduct you to their
haunts, sire, and show you where they se
clude themselves from the eyes of man.
ItinaMo—Go—l follow, arid will re
pay your trouble, by a broad piece of
gold.
(Rinaldo and Brvffo at the entrance of
the cave.)
Rinaldo—How, what is this, man ? I
see no chamois here and no deer.
Bruffo—Advance a little further in,
my lord, and you will see them lying
close.
(They enter the cave.)
There are the chamois and the deer,
my lord ; they await your coming.
Binaldo—Await my coming? How
can that be possible? Anselm! Oondot
ti! Boniffet! How is this ? Armed, and
in this secret place! Are yon going on
an expedition of great trust ?
Anselm—Yes, my lord ; one that re
quires secresy and promptitude, both.
Binaldo—What is the object ?
Anselm—Plunder and revenge!
Binaldo—Plunder and revenge! No
ble impulses of freemen! You are proud
to be so blessed, truly. ( With scorn.)
Anselm—We have suffered enough
from the Valleys, to make them feel our
strength.
Rinaldo—l am astonished at your pos
sessing such sentiments. I have always
looked upon you as contented tenants.
Anselm—Content, my lord, is a stream
that runs between flowery banks, and
not down precipices.
Rinaldo—No, Anselm ; it is a stream
that is ever the same; bright, sparkling,
and imparting joy to the soul, whether
it runs between flowery banks, or dashes
over the towering rock.
Anselm—Well, we are not content
without it, and will bear it no longer.
We are heavily taxed, while others reap
the fruits of it ; we dress in skins, while
others wear soft clothing ; we eke out
our subsistence here, while others live in
luxury at our expense.
Rinaldo—Take care that, in blaming
others, you do not ca.T contempt upon
yourselves.
Anselm—We eare not about that; ,we
are tired of revenge alone ; we wish to
show ourselves honorable, and get equal
rights. The Count I)e la Farge shall
rue the day he dared to make such de
mands as he does, from the pockets of
mountaineers.
llinaldo—The Count He la Farge ?
Anselm—Yes, the Count He la Farge.
He is one of the law-givers; and he is
the one who passes sentence upon every
man he can lay his hands on.
Binaldo—Count He la Farge is a no
ble gentleman; and his sentences are
just, when dealt to robbers.
Anselm—Lord HeLaigle, you shall
either be our leader or our hostage. The
one, to proclaim our rights, or, the first
one to suffer, if those rights are disre
garded.
Rinaldo—The Count He la Farge is my
brother, and you know it.
Anselm—We'know that he is your
bosom friend ; but he has forgotten that
he owes to us his present power.
Rinaldo—How so?
Anselm —Has he not been at Heath’s
door in our midst; and did we not nour
ish him, in our mountain homes, to life
again ? Hid he not get his noble wife
from one of our mountain chiefs ? and
why should he be so bitter against us ?
We know that he is your bosom friend ;
and, therefore, w T e are determined to
take you with us.
Rinaldo—This is really a bold step.
Will you take me without my consent or
approbation ? will away at once from
your secret conclave—Farewell.
{He turns to retrace his steps, and is
met by armed men.)
Anselm—You will find the Pass
guarded at every step, my lord ; a thou
sand bayonets are ready to spring up
around you.
Rinaldo—l see you have guarded the
Pass well ; what do you require of me ?
Anselm—To be our leader—to de
mand that our taxes shall be lessened—
to threaten vengeance if they are not;
or, we will destroy your castles, and
obliterate your names.
Rinaldo—Oh revenge ! oh lust ! To
what end thou bringest men !
Anselm—Even so ; necessity has no
law in this case. We have no name but the
poor mountaineer! You have posses
sions here, my lord; we are your ten
ants, {raising his hat,) hut, in this in
stance, we command you.
Rinaldo—To attack myself! To head
a party of insurgents,. against my best
and dearest friend !
Anselm—Yes, and to demand from
him justice, and equal rights for ourselves
1 and our children.
-Mllll ©f lli^©?ror/
{Scene changes 1o the Castle — Amile,
Estelle, and Arm and, prepared for
a tvalking.)
Armand—One moment, “ mi ditlce
Madre f let me depict to you our terri
rible situation. We place ourselves in
the hands of miscreants, demanding our
lives, or—
Amile—What are our lives worth,
while Rinaldo is in bondage?
Armand—You are right—but, Attala,
who is dearer to me than my own life
Piiv the anguish of your son, "mi
dulce Madre!”
Amile—lnspiration touches me with
her wand, and we will be guided by her
influence. Estelle, bring the Dove ; we
will place a note under her wing, and
send her to them. Then we will do our
duty and trust in God and the Blessed
Virgin.
Estelle—Blessed inspiration of Attala!
Oh l, mi dulce MadreV ’ surely the
Blessed Virgin directed her to give me
that sweet Dove.
Armand—Yes, and it lessens some
what the misery of my heart. Bring the
Dove, "mi dulce Hermanof and let us
send it, before we go, to our devoted
a Padre
Estelle—Here it is, “mi querida Her
mano.” "Mi dulce Paloma,” you must
bear our message safely to your mistress.
Delay not; nor rest your gentle wings
until you arrive.
Amile—Write the note, Armand; and
let us send it quickly, that we may fly
too, on wings of love, to our cave in the
mountain.
Armand—l have written: “My father
is taken prisoner by the robbers, who
have armed themselves as insurgents.
They are going to take him with them, as
they say, to demand justice at your hands.
My mother insists upon our all going to
him. We trust in God. Armand.”
Estelle—Now, we will tie it under her
wing. "Mi dulce Hermano,” throw her,
yourself, from the window. The Blessed
Virgin protect your flight, "mi dulce!”
Armand—She rises up above the trees,
and flies in the direction of the Castle.
May the Blessed Virgin guide her gentle
wings to Attala’s loving arms ! "Mi que
rida Madre, wc are -ready, now, to do
your bidding.
Estelle— "Mi dulce Madre,” come:
we are ready.
(They go and the curtain falls.)
ACT IV.
{The Castle of Giuseppe—Seated at a
table is Thcodotett.e and Attala.
Attala— “Mi il lad.ref to whom are
we to look for help in this approaching
storm?
Theodorette—To God, and those who
are faithful in the surrounding country.
I suppose our dearest friends have de
serted us.
Attala—We will see, “ my dulce
Madref that they are faithful still.
They are, no doubt, pressed into the ser
vice, against their wills.
Theodorette—That seems not possible
to me, “mi dulce"; and the worst is, the
uncertainty cannot be dispelled till the
rumor becomes reality.
Attala—l hear the fluttering of wings,
{looking around)', surely, there is a bird
at the window. ( She opens the shutter
of the tcmdoiv, and a Dove flies to her ,
and nestles upon her bosom.) “Oh!
dulce Mad re , queridaf my l)ovc has
come back, and i know she bears a mes
sage for us.
Theodorette—Then, examine quickly,
“mi dulcef that we may have the assur
ance that our friends are true.
Attala— [reads) ‘My father is taken
prisoner by the robbers, who have armed
as insurgents. They are going to take
him with them, as they say, to demand
justice at your hands. My mother insists
on our all going to him. We trust in
God. Armand ”
{Enter Giuseppe, very much excited )
Giuseppe—ls it possible that Rinaldo
could have hud intimation of this rising
among the Mountaineers? Could that
have been the real cause of his constraint
with me, on the subject of his departure ?
Theodorette—No; I will answer for
them all. They knew nothing of it.
Giuseppe—And Armand, could he be
so false to me, while professing the
warmest love for Attala ?
Attala—Never, mi Padre , never ; be
lieve not the suspicion of your heart.
Sooner believe that the brook would rim
up the hillside, rather than believe
mond fasle,
Giuseppe—How prove the certainty,
either way ?
Theodorette—See you not the Heaven
ly messenger resting upon Attala’s
bosom ? And here is your dispatch.
{Giuseppe reads.)
Guiseppe—Heavenly messenger, in
deed ! This soothes me into a sweet,
calm trust. God defend us, as he has
guided our children.
{Enter the Steward.)
Steward Men are below, awaiting
your orders, my Lord Count.
Giuseppe Tell them to remain there,
nor stir, till I come down. I will see if
they are men leagued with others, or not.
[Exit Steward.
Giuseppe—Come, my gentle Dove, to
my arms; for one little moment, let me
press thee to my heart. Attala, darling,
you were guided by the Blessed Virgin’
to do this sweet service to thy family.
Whatever else betide, we will trust her as
our guide. Now, l go to the men, who
will, no doubt, enlist in our cause. Re
main in this room, and lock your doors.
{Curtainfalls.)
ACT V. — Scene I.
(Much Commotion--running in and
out, and crossing to and fro, on the
stage, of wild-looking Mountaineers )
Anselm Where to, you Plebians ?
Restrain your curiosity, and your love of
pelf. I "warn you, now ; not one thing
must be touched. Remember, we come
for our children’s sake, as well as our
own. We will go from here to the Coun
cil Chamber, where Count De la Farge
and Lord De Laigle are consulting to
gether. They are both our prisoners;
remember that, also; and we will only
let them off with a heavy ransom.
Scene 11.
(Council Chamber. )
(Count De la Farge, Theodorette, and
Attala, Lord De Laigle, Amile , Es
telle, and Ann and.
Giuseppe, ( angrily ) —Twill not treat
with such men.
Rinaldo—Why will you not, Giuseppe?
They are ruffians, excited to the highest
pitch. I entreat you to give them some
showing, of what they call justice.
Giuseppe—What is it they want ?
Rinaldo—They say they are too heavily
taxed ; that they, in their poverty, pay for
the luxuries of the nobles.
Giuseppe—You ought to know if that
is so ; you arc yourself a nobleman.
Rinaldo—Apart from their ideas, their
presence here in your Castle shows the
necessity for prompt action. I will, my
self, make a deposit, in their behalf, of
20,000 doubloons. Tell them you will
lessen their taxes that much, and it will,
I believe, satisfy them.
Giuseppe—You are right, and I am
wrong, Rinaldo. Bid them come; they
are plunderers, not patriots.
{Rinaldo and the Robbers enter , as
the Ladies arc retiring.)
Anselm—Stop; let no one leave this
room, till wo hear the decision. The
Castle is filled, both moat and tower; and
we command, my Lord Count. What
do you propose ?
Giuseppe—l propose to lessen the
taxes upon your province 20,000 doub
loons.
Anselm—Not so; make it 40,000
doubloons, or we will not leave any one
here alive to tell the tale of our rising.
Rinaldo—How now ? Hid you not
tell me it I could get that much reduction
of your taxes, you would be willing to
return ?
Giuseppe—Do you know that your
own Lord, frem his private purse, has
given this money to relieve you from
your present position ?
Anselm—What! our Lord HeLaigle,
from bis private purse, bestow this upon
us ? Then, you shall bestow double, nay,
treble that sum.
Giuseppe—You would have to destroy
us, instead, then ; fori have it not.
Rinaldo—What is it you require ? In
the name of yoftr Province, speak, An
selm.
Anselm—We require 100,000 doub
loons, if one cent. Now, choose between
that and complete destruction.
{llinaldo writes an order , and hands
it to Anselm.)
Rinaldo—Now go, and, in as short a
time as* possible, let order and quiet be
restored to the Castle.
{Bobbers touch their hats , and leave in
confusion.
Giuseppe—Rinaldo, you have our eter
nal gratitude for this noble act. The
debt—
Rinaldo—There is no debt, Giuseppe,
but one of thanks to the Blessed Patroness
of our wives and children. The Countess
“mi chiqmta Amile!" <\id wisely to an
ticipate our difficulties by their prayers.
{Armand, leading to them Attala , they
kneel at their feet Theodorette,
Amite , and Estelle , stand near them)
Rinaldo—May the Virgin Mary bless
you, my Attala and my Armand.
Armand—Count He la Farge, I have
come, now, to claim my true prize If
I delayed one moment, I sent my messen
ger.
Giuseppe—Armand, my full heart can
scarcely find language to speak. Take the
prize, and keep the ring also; and may
God bless and protect you both, my chil
dren ? Where is the Hove, Attala ?
Attala—She has flown away to the
bosom ofE>tclle, “mi Padre /” See how
plaintively she looks towards us !
Estelle —Oh! it pants, it dies. You
have fulfilled your blessed mission, “mi
dulce Paloma !"
{Curtain falls,)
[communicated.]
DEATH OF THOS. PINCKNEY ALSTON.
St. Louis, 12th Nov., 1868.
Editor Bannei' of the South :
Dear Sir —Euelosed I beg to hand you
an obituary notice taken from one of our
leading papers, the purport of which
will bring sorrow to many hearts in your
charming city. W —. *
£ r om the St Louis Republican, Nov. 12th, 1868.]
at the residence of D. Robert Barclay, Eeq., in
tnxsmy.on Saturday, November 7tli, 1868, of typhoid
P*ipful i^ncss of three weeks, THOMAS
E I^ G . KNEY ALSTON, eldest son of J. Motte and Mary
TUzsunmons Alston, of Columbia, South Carolina.
m.uVo i V* 8 born near Augusta, Ga., April 30,
death and W&S m hlB twentieth year at the time of his
, a flattering examination, and
been admitted to the bar of the Circuit Court of St.
Louis County, and was, in every respect, one of the
most promising oftne junior members of the profes
sion in this city. His tamilv is among the oldest in
South Carolina, and ot the noblest in its alliances and
affiliations ; possessing, at the beginning of the war
what, in that State, was of more value than wealth’
high character and respectability. From it he ini
herited that innate grace and manly bearing which
education so often fails to hup ;rt to Nature's other
wise abundantly gifted.
After completing his academic course at the Uni
versity of Virginia, he studied law under the guidance
ot the late Judge Starnes, of Georgia, and Hon,
Hersebel V. Johnson, of that State, and came, in July
last, to St. Louis, to commence his career iu the honor
able profession which his taste, his talent, and his in
clination, led him to adopt. In this city his modest
and manly demeanor soon won him friends. He en
tered the office of Messrs. Voorhees k Mason, and was
rapidly making his way, when he was attacked with
the illness that resulted in his death. Falling sick at
his lodgings, he was taken to the home of friends,
who knew and appreciated his worth of character,
where he was tenderly nursed, and received every at
tention that kindness could suggest. The amiable
; manliness of Mr. Alston had won on all who knew
him. His examination, for admission to the bar, had
elicited the flattering comment of the learned Judge
who gave him his license; and his learning, not alone
in the course of his profession, but in classic and
general literature, claimed the admiration of all who
met him. For the week previous to his death, his
bereaved father, summoned on the first apprehension
; of a fatal termination of his illness, had been with him
: »nd watched over him in the alternations of hope and
; fear. The Rev. Ed. F. Berkeley, D. D., Rector of St.
George’s Church, administered to him the consola
tions of religion and prepared his mind for death.
The death of no stranger has, iu our city, so affected
the minds of those who were about him. A profound
sensation of admiration and esteem for the deceased,
and of sympathy for the broken-hearted father, was
evidenced in the attendance of a large number of
friends, on the occasion of the funeral service, read
by Dr. Berkeley, on the Btli inst., preparatory to taking
his body to South Carolina for burial. His remaius
were accompanied by the pall-hearers, composed of
his student friends and members of the Bar, t<* East
St. Louis. There are many sad hearts here that beat
with tender sympathy for the afflicted father and grief
stricken sisters. Almighty God, alone, can reconcile
them tojlis inscrutable ways, and to His boundless
mercy and goodness they are commended.
THE LOST CAUSE.
Southern War Poetry. —Mi ss Sallie
A. Brock, of Virginia, has gathered into
a volume, the War Poetry of the South;
a very choice collection, it is said, of the
best poems, called forth by the late
struggle. The New York Freeman's
Journal , in writing of it, says :
“ We have to postpone hook notices,
this week, for lack of space. But we
cannot forego a brief notice of this ele
gant volume, compiled and edited by our
friend, Miss Sallie A. Brock* of Virginia.
It is the completest, and best selection of
poetry called forth by the struggle of
the Southern States, to achieve their In
dependence. That contest having ended
in disaster, its history as part
of the annals of a common country.
Hereafter, when the passions of the hour
have passed away, the calm heroism of
Albert Sidney Johnson, the impetuous
chivalry of Patrick Cleburne, the lustre
of the peerless “Stonewall” Jackson,
Will be cherished as trophies of Ameri
can glory. The story, at present, is best
told in verses. These have been gathered
up, and sifted, in this volume, by one of
the daughters of old Virginia, who, her
self, saw, and suffered in the conflict. A
fuller notice of the volume will appear
hereafter. We cannot help noticing,
however, that Miss Brock has had the
nice appreciation to give the first, and
the closing place, in her collection to the
“cypress-crowned poet of the South”—
the author of the “ Conquered Banner,' ’
Rev. A. J. Ryan. His “Sentinel Songs’’
fitly heralds a volume of such poems, and
songs. His “Land of Memories,” is its
fitting finale. The frontispiece is illus
trated by an elegant design ot Mr.
McNcviii, in his peculiar and touching
style.
Responsible Agents arc desired by
the publishers for this volume, its price,
for the volume, of some six hundred and
fifty octavo pages, on excellent paper,
and cloth bound, is four dollar:-.
In a recent- number of the Louisville
Courier, we find the following:
General Basil W. Duke's numerous
friends' will he pleased to learn that he
has determined to practice his profession
the Law—in Louisville, and, for that
purpose, has associated with himself, Ma
jor A. E. Richards, of Virginia. In
1861, the General left a lucrative practice
in St. Louis, for the purpose of partici
pating in the struggle tor Southern In
dependence. Since the war, he has been
known as the author of the “ History of
Morgan’s Command”—a book that has
found a home in almost every Kentucky
Library. Major Richards served with
Colonel Mosbv’s “ Partizan Rangers,”
being twice promoted for “skill and gal
lantry displayed in action:” and, since
the war, he has quietly devoted himself
to the pursuit of the Law. We take
pleasure in calling attention,to their
card, which can be found in our business
directory, and hope they will receive a
liberal patronage from our citizens.
3