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VOL. It.
THE CABINET
Is published every Saturday by P. L.
ROBINSON\ Warrenton , Geo at
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From Blackwood’s .Magazine.
GEORGE GRAYS* S TIED DING.
In one of those narrow doses which
abound in the old part of Ihn town of
Edinburgh, lived a poor widow of the
name of Gray. This day of happi
ness to many, rose to her the anniver
sary of sorrow. But it had not al
ways been thus; No—one year ago
and not the youngest heart on Hansel
Monday had looked for fuller happi
ness than that of the widow Gray.
On that day twenty years before, she
had been made the blessed mother of
a thriving boy. lie was her only
child—long wished for, and granted
when hope was almost dead, tic
seemed to bring a blessing with him,
for every thing had thriven with Ag
nes Gray since Georges birth. Han
sel Monday had been to her the hap
piest day of her life—it was the birth
day of her child; and though she had
since mourned over the grave of a
kind husband, yet, when the day
came round, the heart of Agnes’ son
renewed her hymn of gratitude to
God.
That day twelve months past had
been the day which the mother had
fixed upon for the wedding of her son.
It was the happiest day of my life.
‘George,* said she, ‘and I would have
t the happiest day of your‘s and if
God spare me to'see your Peggy as
blest a mother as l have been, then
may I say,‘Lord now lettest thou thy
servant depart in peace.’ Thus with
his mothers blessing warm at his
heart, and happiness brightening every
feature, did the youthful bridegroom
quit his parents roof. He was to
return in the evening with his bride,
who was thence forward to the inmate
of his mothers dwelling. The widow
had no fears or misgivings as to the
worth or excellence of George‘B wife;
for she had known and loved her
from a child, and the first wish of her
heart had been, that George should
marry pretty Peggy Burns.
The daylight had long passed away,
and more than once had widow Gray
trimmed the fire, and looked with
pride and pleasure at the well furnish
ed room which was to be the abode of
her new daughter. Oh. what could
stay them now? and for the first time
alarm arose in the mother*s heart.
She t ok her seat beside the fire, and
tried to read her bible; but her heart
throbbed and fluttered so, it was in
vain. At last she heard a noise—her
ears could not bt deceived—it was
heir footsteps, on the stair. She
hurried to the door with a light—a
man, indeed stood there; but the light
fell upon the face of a stranger.
Who are you? said the agitated
mother. Why do 1 see you here?
My God! has any thing happened to
my ‘boy?—Whose are these voices that
I hear belowi’ And she would have
rushed past him, but he caught her
arm.—‘Come into the house,’ said the
compassionate stranger, ‘and 1 will
tell you all,’‘Oh, I know it already!
said the mother, my boy, my boy is
gone!’—‘No, he is not dead; believe
me, my poor woman, your sun liveth,
but he has been severly hurt, and they
are now bringing him home at
his own desiie. 1 have dressed
his wound, and perhaps’—the mother
her rd not what lie said—she remained
fixed to the spot —her eyes raised to
vVarremo n, .lone 1829.
heaven—ter iieari in silent pr*yer.
*,s if imploring God for strength •<>
hear her misery. It was indeed a
sight to harrow up thesout; hei bravo,
tier beautiful boy, was now brought
back to his uiother‘s house, and laid
upon the ihe bed, p do. bleeding al
most lifeless. lie was supported by
the surgeon and some of the bridal
party, whilst his poor Peggy pressed
close to his side, as white as her bri
dal garments.
The mother asked not a question,
but the facts were soon made know:,
by those around her. Her son had
arrived within a few paces of ins fa
ther-iu law‘s door, when his attention
was attracted on the opposite side of
the street, by the screams of a young
girl, apparently strugling t> disen
gage herself from the rude ait., k o(
two young men. Me stopped for a
moment, but persuading himself they
were only claiming th* privileg of
Hansel Monday, to obtain a kiss from
a pretty girl, lie prepared to hurry on
to his appointment A second appeal
for help however, in a voice of nue
qui vocal terror and suppli ation, ren
dered him ashamed ofhis momentary
•
selfishness, and thinking of his own
Peggy, he flew to the assistance of the
poor girl. Forcibly seizing the arm
of the most troublesome of the two
ruffians, he enabled the girl to make
her escape; but at that moment, the
other young man turning up m
George, threw him head foremost
with all his force against the iron
lamppost. The blow was fata fly se
vere, and he lay at their feet bleeding
and senseless. A party of the wed
ding guests were the first to observe
him, and come to his assistance; he
was carried into the house of his
Peggyfs father, and it was some time
before he uttered a word. At last he
opened his eyes, and, as Peggy hung
over him, lie pressed her hand, ami
faintly uttered, *Let them carry me to
my mother.’ Aitcr a while however
he recovered so far as to give so n
account of what had happened. Tin
surgeon, who had been called iu, hav
ing now made his appearance, tb
poor young man again petitioned to
be taken to his mothers house; am!
seeing that quiet was not to be obtain
ed where he was, the surgeon agree
to his immediate removal.
All now having qutted the house of
Mrs. Gray, ex.cept the surgeon and
poor Peggy, the mother, with tremb
ling hands assisted to undress her son,
and stood by while her son was bled,
The doctor now saw him laid quie*.
and proposed to leave them for the
night. He had given no hope—he
had said nothing; and the unhappy
widow dared not to ask a question, for
she read in his face the senteuce of
tier son<B death. Next morning.
George desired to see the surgeon a
lone, and after conversing with hi o
some moments, he sent for Peggy.
They remained for some time togeth
er, and when the mother entered the
room, the poor girl d by tin
bed, holding the hand of her lover,
paler, if possible, than before, butstil
and silent as death itself.
‘Mother, I have been telling Peggy
what I need not tell you, for i saw you
knew how it would fie when you lain
me on this bed. And now my deal
mother, 1 have only one wish, am
that is to see our good minister, aim
once more hear Ins voice in prayer
Oh, I Imped to have him perform
ollit e far different from this! but tin
Lord‘s w ill he done.* The good m- >
came, and Iter a few Words to tin
1 alilif ted mother, he seated himself b t
the b* dos her son. Peggy now rosi
i for iht first time, and taking the wid.
ow aside, sail some words in a kiw
and earnest voi< but a* that moment
the minister called to them to knee!
around George*s bed, and then he
prayed aloud with all the fervor of a
feeling heart.—His were indeed tin*
words of eternal life, and as lie poured
out his spirit in prayer, this world,
with all its sins and sorrows, faded
from their eyes.
The holy man now aros*\ and
would have l-fi them, bat Peggy,
starting forward, laid her hand upon
iiis arm, with a look. of earnest
supplication, and tried to speak; but
the effort was too mu it for her, and
ihe mother then advanced to explain
her wishes. ‘lf you think there is
neathing wrang in it. Sir, Peggy wish
es o. be made the wife of my poor boy.’
Pile ninis er looked at the dying
man and slink his head. ‘Peggy
knows that. So.’ said widow Gray;
‘she knows be lias not many hours to
live, but yet it is natural for her to
wish —And then her father could
i t her live wdth me * And then’ said
Peggy, rousing herself to speak, *Oh,
then, riir, i would belaid in ’ She
could not say the w rd, but George,
clasping her hand added, ‘ln my
grave, Peggy, it is that you would
say. God bless you! dearest, for the
wish!* The good man made no fur
ther objection, and their hands were
now joined in wedlock, Georges
strength supported him through the
sacred ceremony, and when the min
ister pronounced them man and wife,
he opened his arms, received her to
tits bosom, and saying ‘God bless my
Peggy!’ he expired.
From the Williamstown Advocate.
STAR GAZING.
It is recorded oi Thales, the cede
orated Grecian Astronomer, that as
he was one evening walking, his at
tention, as usial, being direi ted to the
stars, without heeding obstructions
that might lie in his way, he found
uimseit suddenly immerced up to his
chm ii mud and finny water, having
unconsciously walked into a ditch
mat crossed the path. An old lady,
wno ous rved him, exclaimed* *La
me! youd better he looking to your
standing on earth than trying to find
*ui wiiat is going on in heaven.’—
Puis old lady was unacquainted with
tue sublime science of istronoiny,
and had no conception of the benefits
its study might confer on mankind;
out she knew whatever were its ad
vantages, it would he no excuse for
its student to be so much engrossed
hi the study as to run the of risk
ureaking bis neck by disregarding
the position oi Ins feet. Most men
uke 1 hales, have something on which
uiey intently gaze, that is to them a
star; hence thay may, with propriety,
oe denominated star-gazers; and as
such, would do well to profit by the
xcUmation of the old lady above
quoted. By attention to it they would
often save ihetns< Ives infinite trouble
anu vexatious mortification.
iliuse who are constantly looking
into the actions of their neighbors,
calculating their profits, losses, and
prospects, negiecung their own busi
ness, are suir-gazing; they are at
tending to things beyond their sphere,
t nd will be rxtreiiily fortunate if their
o vvn affairs do not get entangled iu
difficulty, aud they finally brought to
Heir senses, by being suddenly plung
<l into the ditch of public reprobation,
fid smeared wilh the mud ot their
,wn tattling inquisitiveness.
lie who devotes his time to politics;
leglecting his business to advance a
4#a rty for mere party purposes, talk
ing loudly in taverns and grog shops,
of the great interests of the country
and railing at moral men who are
absent, and at morality in general,
while his wife and family are freez
ing at home, is star-gazing, lie is
talking of things he does not under
stand, and meddling with affairs in
which lie has no concern; he had
better look to his own standing atul
attend to his own business, or lie will
suddenly find himself in the ditch of
detestation for his course, m jail for
his debts, and his family drawing
the means of scanty subsistence from
the town.
Plie young man who associates
with dissipated companions for the
purpose of enjoying their mirth and
wit, fondly expecting his own morals
will not be corrupted, and his good
name ruined by his associates, is star
gazing; aud ten to one will sooner .r
later find himself plunged in the ditch
of mis ry as deep, if not deeper, than
his companions. The man who ex
pec s to reform Urn public by declaim
ing against vice, while his examples
do not coincide with his precepts, ia
entitled to the reputation of a star ga
zer; and will fiud the public consider
him deeply sunk iu the ditch of hypoc
risy and deception.
He who expects to get a fortune by
speculation, without industry and
economy, either in trade or by a lotte
ry, will eventually find by his star
gazing plans, he has lost the good lie
might have secured, and plunged in
to the ditch of poverty and idleness,
Few gain in this way, and sudden
gains arc seldom spent, sparingly.
When a man resolves to continue
thetißeof intoxicating liquors, ima
gining lie is in no danger of becoming
dissip. ed because lie drinks but little,
he is in great danger of stumbling into
the ditch of drunkenness. No man
was ever boro a drunkard, there
fore look out, for temperate drinkers.
The inau who imagines his own
knowledge more valuable than that
obtained by any one else, or his
profession and pursuits more hon
orable and useful to the commu
nity than those of others, is a star ga
zer, a kind of comet in the literary
world, and may bo well suspected of
having taken a plunge into the ditch of
pride and self importance.
lie who thinks to revolutionize the
world, and reform all its follies and
hard lieartedness by his own unaided
efforts, and imagines denun iatioo is
equal to sound argument and solid
reasoning is a star gazer, ami will he
very likely, when he finds that public
reformation is a progressive work, to
be brought about only by unremitted
and arduous exertion, to fall into the
ditch of melancholy and discontent,
lie had better show by his own life
and conversation, that a public reform
is practicable; that others may be in
duced to copy his example.
The editor who thinks to enrich
himself, and gain the applause of the
public, without spending wearisome
days and watchful nights in arduous
labors, and who has an idea that fie
can please all his readers, is a star
gazer; he will find himself deeply im
mersed in the ditch of disappointment,
and not unfrequently bedaubed with
the censures of those he has been most
solicitous to please.
It short, stars of all kinds are
twinkling in every direction, and it is
not to be wondered at that almost all
men should employ thems-lves in ga
zing at them. The stars of ambi
tion, of fame, of wealth, of learning,
of power, and of infidelity, have all
had their gazers, who, while intent
on admiring their lustre, have plung-
No. 1.