Newspaper Page Text
ihirttf Cabinet.
VOL. 1!.
THE CAIILYET
Is published every Saturday by 1\ L
JlOlil VSOJY, IVarrentou , Geo . at
three dollars per annum , which may be
discharged by two dollars and fifty
cents if paid within sixty days of the
time of subscribing .
Advertisements conspicuously inserted at
seventy five cents per square for the
first insertion, and fifty cents fir each
subsequent insertion Monthly inser
tions charged as new advertisements.
Advertisements not limited when hand
ed in , will be inserted until forbid, and
charged accordingly.
>a.> l ,u.. l r.r.. r~ar 7 - Vr-n —i--&&n —— --&&
FROM THd TALISVI VN F It 1 830.
I'll ft WHIRLWIND.
[The following is an extract from a
Tale entitled ‘Toe Whirlwind,’ from
the Talisman, for 1830. %Ve will not
anticipate, or mar, the interest of the
book, by quoting the narrative entire.
Mr. Herbert is on one of his thousand
and onejournies-this time to the eoun
try beyond the Alleghanu*s—where he
falls into the company of an equestri
an gentl-m mi, in the gar > and charac
ter of an itinerant, hut intelligent
Baptist Treacher. We commence in
the midst of the rolloqu* ]
•A*. Y. Com. Advertiser.
Your friends probably live in that
part of the coun ry,* said 1 availing
myself of that freedom of interog itiori
of which he had set me the example.
‘Friends, if you will, answered he,
<1 may have there, but relations none.
—There lives not in all the United
States, tho* they are my native coun
try, a single human being, with whom
I ran claim kmdered. God has cut
away, by a terrible, bu% as l willing
ly believe, a merciful dispensation,
all the tics of an earthly nature that
bound me to my fellow creatures; tin
members of tbe Church of Christ, and
they only, are now my fathers and
mothers, and sisters and brothers. 9
*Yoii allude, I perceive,’ said I, *to
some r markable event of your life.
May I rake the liberty of inquiring
what ii is. ? ’
♦Formerly, he replied, ‘itgavome
pain to speak of i-; but l have related
it often, and it does so no longer; and,
moreover, 1 am cpnvitr ed that it is
sinful on my part to wish to conceal
the dealings of Gud-s providence with
me, from those who are willing to hear
what they have been.
‘You must know then that my fa
tlnr was a native of the island of
Nantucket, and the only son of an
emigrant pm* from St. John3* on the
coast of N -wfoundl mil. My mother
was from Wales, feoe was but a
child when her father took passage for
this country, with her and two broth
ers older than herself. The vessel in
which they came, was wrecked off
Cape Coil, and all on board perish and
except my mother and four ol the
crew, who were picked up by the fish
ermen of Hyannis. Sue was received ;
into one of the most wealthy families j
on the Cape, and was brought up by
the good people as it she had been one
of their ow n children.
♦My father had been a seafaring
man in early li’-e; and had risen to tin*
command of a merchant vessel. At
the age of thirty five he became ac
quainted with my mother, who was
some fifteen years yonger than him
self, and made her prop .sals of mar
ridge, wliic.lt- she would accept only on
condition that lie should quit the sea,
which had be n she grave ot her lam
iiy. lie made the promts- she requir
ed; and r mov. and to tin* interior, where
my fa!her bought a form, and s ’ ‘
as an agrn ulturalist. . . ,
• Out residence was on the highlands
•vest <f Connect! nt River. lucre
Wf.. littlr doc.yed ol.:i dw
(fcerp: h i’- W down,
VVarrcMion. iHo-ember 5, 1829.
and had a neat. Whit • co-.i.ige buii
upon the spot.—ln this cottage was
I burn, and here I.pissed the e n-lmsr
years of my life, and, speaking
wish respect to temporal comforts’
and enjoyments, the happiest. It
was a lovely spot, lovely then, bn
now no lungers—it is bare and
desolate—the besom of destruction has
isw *pi itr-the winds. G ul*s ministers.
| were sent against it, to raz i its walls,
ami root up its shades, and slay n-s
inmates.
♦1 sometimes think that the distinct
I cess with whi h that abode of mj
J youth and its dear inhabitants rise
i before my imagination, is a devi e of
the enemy to tempt me, and to shake
my resignation to the decrees of the
Almighty. A Yotiogor hard shelter
ed the cottage, on the northwest, ami
ha-, kof the orchard rose a wood and
hill. On the south side of the lion a
was our garden, which bordered on e
clear prattling brook. To the eas
were ri h meadows and fields of grain,
and pastures where 1 gather and straw
berries and looked for birds’ nest*;,
all sloping away gently for a consid
eraule distance, after which th<*y sunk
down out of sight into the deep glen
of a river, w hose shallow murmurs
were often heard by Us as we sat un
der the wild cherry trees before om
door; T i the east of the river spre m
a wide tract of country, in full ssglr
from our windows—farm houses pain
ted red and white, with their orchards
and comfit--Ids and woodlands, steeple
of distant churches, and a blue hori
z hi of woods bounding the scene,
•Time went by pleasantly until my
tenth year. Childhood is the only
season of life in whi h happy years do
not pass away swiftly. They glide
softly, but they do not lly, and they
seem as long as they are full of enjoy
mem. 1 had an elder sister, Jan-,
just arrived at seventeen; a tall
straight blooming girl, who had been
my ins'ructress in all childish pas
times, and procured for me my child
ish pleasures. She tang st me wher
to fiod the earliest blossoms and th<
sweetest berries, and showed m
where the beach shed, its nuts thicken
when it. felt the October frosts, ami
led me beside wild streams in tiv
woods, and read godly books with m *.
and taught me to sing godly hymns <>
Sundays, under the trees of our orch
ard. There were two brothers, twins,
five year-* younger than rnys-lf, t*
whom 1 now p-'rfor ned the same of
ft and beautiful creatures they
wre if I can trust my mein ry, as
ever were sent into the vv odd to be re
call and in the bud of life; fair, round
faced ruddy,good humored, full ot a
perpetual fl w of spirits, and in lo k.
gesture and disposition, the exact
copies of each other. And as they
were alike in birth and mind, and
outward semblance, so they were a
like in their lives and in their deaths
not divided. I was their constant
companion, and sometimes our sister,
who had n>w grown to maturity,
would leave her sed to occupations
and join our sports.
♦My mother was of a delicat frame,
and a quiet and somewhat sad turn of
mind. The calamity by which her
family bad perished, made a deep
impression upon her, and disp >sed liei
heart to religious affections Her eyes
would sometimes lilt with tears, as
slo* looked at us mi the midst ol our
pastimes, and she would olten niiiuly
check our boistrous mirth. She was
our rliAtechist, she made us read ou.
biblcs and taught us our little hymns
and prayers.
♦♦My father was, it was thought, an
uureg. n. rate person, hut he was wh .
the world calls a good umjal *?ai/
* i
utich respected by his neighbors. He
wts ol an even quiet temper, never
exhilirated by good, nor greatly de
pressed by bid fortune, I do not
recollect ever seeing him apparently;
bet er pleased than when his children
were noisiest in their play, when he
vvild sit looking at us with great
mi>p a me s and tell our mother how
mueli tie was like us at our age. He
w.-.s what is called a silent man.* he
sad but little and indulgent a9 lie was,
’bit little was a law to us. The neigh
*'“hood also treated him with defer
*u e; his opinion was consulted in all
diffrult cases; lie was made town
leik, and then sent a representative
to 4ie General Court; am! finally
received a commission of the peace.
“My lather, as I have already told
you. was originally a seafaring mm.-;
1 md his profession had made him fa
miliar with all the appearances of the
O” averts. To his knowledge of this
kind, a< qmred on the ocean and coast
f the Atlantic, he now added that
gained by h daily observation of tbe
aspect of the heavens in the interior,
until lie became celebrated in those
oarts for bis skill in discerning the
face of the sky. He was looked upon
as a sort of oracle on the subject of
the weather; aod his predictions were
reverenced even more than those of
he almanac. It was not always that
n opinion could he extricated from
•ini, hut when obtained, it never failed
if being verified. His hay never got
wft while lying green on the ground,
;njr do I believe that he was ever
• tertaken by a shower in any of his
excursions from home. H would
pass w hole hours in gazing at the sky
md watching the courses of the
clouds. An observation of the weath
er was his first business in the morn
ing, and his l*st at night; and if the
manly placidity of his temp r was ev
er on any occasion disturbed, it was
only when the weather was more ca
prieious than ordinary; when it refu
ised to conform to fixed rules, and
jailed to fulfil the promises it held
forth. In this I think In* was wrong,
ts que* toning the providnce of G 01,
1-x. r ed in the great courses of nature;
i,,;. who is without his errors?
♦ • The country in which we lived was
tigh and hilly. * The streams by which
it was intersected, flowed in deep,
narrow glens, unpleasant from their
chilliness, shade, and mists at morning
and evening; and the farms ad dwcl
lings lay on the, broad elevated coun
try between them. —Thus an ample
sweep was afforded for the winds,
which blew over the country with as
little obstruction as fin the summits ot
mountains; The snow was often pi
led in the winter to the roofs of the
houses, and you might see orchards rn
which every tree leans to the south
west, bent and made to grow in that
position by the strong and continued
gales. * ..
♦♦ln the last year of my residence in
this pleasant abode, we bad, about the
setting in of summer, several weeks
of uncommon beat and drought. God
sealed up the fountains of the firma
ment, and mad the heavens over our
heads brass, and the earth under our
feet ashes. —Clout.s floated over the
fiery sky, and brought no rai; the
atmosphere was filled with a dull, dry
liize, as if the finer dust of the ground
had risen and mingled with It. Out of
this haze, the sun emerged at morning
and again dipped into it at evening
hiding his face long before he reached
the horizon. The grass of t e • <
erased to grow, and became thin and
\bite and dry before it ripened, and
iMed mournfully whenever a i
f air passed -over it* l |* e ,r< 8
hirped feebly in the trees; the cattle
lowed faintly in the in adows, and
gathered about the moisture spots of
soil. All this while the winds scarce
ly blew, or but softly, nor with
strength enough to detach from the
cherry trees, before our door the loose
leaves that put on the yellowness of
September, and dropped of their own
accord, one by one, spinning round as
I they descended to the earth. I had
never known my father so uneasy and
fidgetty as at that period. He would
stand for hours considering the aspect
of the heavens, and even after the
twilight was clown, he was out by tho
door, gazing at the hazy canopy tliro*
which the stars dimly trembled. My
mother, in tbo meantime, called her
children about her, and taught us a
prayer for rain.
•♦At length came a day of more per
fect calm and stillness than we had
experienced, even in that season of
calms. The leaves on the trees were
so motionless, that you might al nost
have fair ied them vvrougut of metal,
to mo k the growth of the vegetable
world. I remember feeling unoa&y at
the depth and countenance of that si
lence, broken only by the gurgle of
the brook at the tioi to in of our garden,
where a slender thread of hatred wa
ter still crept along, the sou id of
which fell on cny ear with a painful
distinct ess. There was no cloud,
not a speck, nothing but that thick
whitish haz *, to be seen in all the sky.
My father went often during tbe day
and stood anxi usly looking at tbe at
mosphere while I silently rrep oc ir him
with my two little brothers. There
was something in his in mn r that made
us afraid, tho* of wha \v* knew not.
My mother, too, appeared s dd r than
usual. Once, when m> faitier return
ed into the house, he told h r that
this was just such weather as had pre
ceded the waterspout tht overwhelm
ed the fishing boat off the coast ot
Cape Cod, thirty years before, and
drowned all on board.
*‘l fear greatly,* s-id he, that some
mischief is brewing for us nr our
neighbors; but 1 hope, at least, that
it will steer clear of all our houses
♦♦The night at length arrived, and
no evil had as yet come nigh us or
our dwellings. My mother saw us
all in our beds, and made us say our
prayers; and bade us good night, in
that mild, iff*- tionate voice, which l
shall never f *rgei; but for my part, I
ould not sleep, agitated as I was
with the vague and awful apprehen
sions with which ny farther's looks
and words, and the strange appearan
ces of nature, had filled rny inind, and
which were struggling to clothe them**
se|v<-8 with images. Sleep at length
fell upon me, a deep sleep, and with
it brought the visions of the night. I
imagined that the profound silcnco
was suddenly broken with strange
and terrible crashirigs, and masses
earth and portions ol sky were ming
ling |aud whirli g over each other;
1 awoke witn my limbs bathed in
sweat, and t was long before my fear
would suffer me to move them.-
When the usual current of hiy tensa
lions was restored, I was comforted to
find my self still in my own l.tmiliar
couch, though in the midst of utter
darkness, and that awful lifeless si
lence, so deep that I could hear the
clicking of my fathers watch in tbo
next room.
•The sun rose as usual the next day,
and the same calnin and silence con
tinued. My own apprehensions had
passed away with the night, though I
observed iny father watching tho
cloudless hazy sk*es with the same air
of anxiety. About twelve o’cl ick l
was in the or hard bark of our < otuge
{QonMti on the fourth page.)
No.