Newspaper Page Text
1852.]
in reality a modem piece of structure.
It was of dark mahogany, with its four
posts extending completely to the ceiling
of the chamber. The bed, however, was
not more than about two feet from the
floor, the better to enable the party to
get into it. The Scotchman, with a good
deal of assistance, was soon undressed,
and had his body deposited in this place
of repose. All the party then retired,
wishing him a good night, and removing
the candle for tear of accidents.
When the door was closed, I was for
the first time made acquainted with the
structure of the bedstead, which our host
considered as his masterpiece. Upon the
touching of a spring, outside the door, the
bed was so acted upon by a pulley, that
it ascended slowly and smoothly through
the four posts, until it came within two
or three feet of the ceiling. The morning
of the Scotchman was the signal for touch
ing the spring, and he was soon at the
proper altitude. The servants required
no instructions how to act. In one mo
ment the house was in an uproar; cries
of “fire ! fire!” were heard in different
directions. A pile of shavings was set
in a blaze opposite the window where
poor Sawney slept. The landlord’s voice
was continually heard, exclaiming, “Good
heavens! save the poor Scotch gentle
man, if possible; the flames have got
into the room just under him!” At this
moment we heard him fall, and bellow
out. A sudden silence took place —every
light was extinguished, and the whole
house seemed to be buried in the most
profound repose. The Scotchman’s voice
could alone be heard, roaring out, in the
high dialect of his country, for assistance.
At length, two of the men servants, in
their shirts, entered the room, with a
candle just lit, and yawning, as if imme
diately aroused from their first sleep.
They found him sprawling on the floor.
“O dear, sir, what is the matter with
you?” “Matter!” says he; “why, isn’t
the house on fire?” “Not at all, sir.”
“What was the reason of the cries of fire,
fire, then?” “Bless you, sir, you must
have been dreaming; why, there’s not
so much as a mouse stirring, and his hon
our and the whole family have been
asleep those three hours.” The Scotch
man now gave up all credit in the testi
mony of his own senses. “I must ha’
been dreaming, indeed, and ha’ hurt my
self by falling out of the bed.” “Hurt
yourself, sir ! —not much, I hope, the bed
is so low and by this time it had been
made to descend to its first level. The
poor Scott was quite confused; quite
ashamed at disturbing the family ; begged
a thousand pardons; accompanied the
servants to the door; closed it after them,
and was once more left in the dark.
But the last act of the pantomime was
not performed. The spring had been
immediately touched, upon closing the
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
door, and the bed was soon beyond the
reach of our guest. We could hear him
groping about, and uttering frequent ejac
ulations of astonishment. He easily
found the bed-posts, but it was in vain
he could endeavour to get in. He moved
his hands up and down. His leg was of
ten lifted by way of stepping in, but al
ways encountered the floor upon its de
scent. He uttered exclamations of sur
prise not loud, but deep, for fear of again
disturbing the family. He concluded
himself to be in the possession of some
evil spirit. In short, when it was found,
by his silence, that he had given up the
task as hopeless, and had disposed of
himself upon one of the chairs, the bed
was allowed to slide down again, and in
the morning Sawney could not but ex
press his astonishment as not being able
to find it in the dark.
[Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.
Lesson Tor Sunday, December 26.
THE NATURE OF THE SOUL.
“Life and immortality.”—2 Tim. i. 10.
Infidel writers tell us that death is the
extinction of our being, and the grave
the place of an everlasting sleep; but we
believe ‘hat death is the threshold of
eternity, and that we shall sleep only till
the resurrection morn, and rise either to
eternal happiness or never-ending woe.
This is only the embryo state of our ex
istence : “The dust shall return to the
earth as it was,” there is the death of the
body ; “but the spirit shall return unto
God who gave it,” there is the immor
tality of the soul. Let us bring forward
some arguments in proof of the soul’s
immortality.
Its nature. It is a spirit. How do
we know this? Because it is capable of
apprehending spiritual objects. It has
been well observed, that a spiritual ob
ject can only be apprehended by a spiri
tual operation ; a spiritual operation can
only belong to a spiritual faculty, and a
spiritual faculty can only be connected
with a spiritual being. The Christian can
commune with God. “God is a spirit;”
he can hold fellowship with angels, “are
they not all ministering spirits?” The
language of Paul, in Hebrews xii. 22-24,
is to the point. He uses the present
tense, “Ye are come” to the association
of the blest in heaven, But in what
sense may believers be said to come ?
Not with the body, that would be impos
sible; it is by communion “they are
come.” And what part of man holds
communion with these exalted intelli
gences? It is his soul; if so, it must be
j spiritual; and if it is spiritual, where is
the individual who will deny that it is
immortal ? Some say, that what we call
a spirit is a mere attribute of life ; but
’ we ask, how is it, when life is sinking,
and the body is decaying, the spirit does
j not partake of that debility, decay, and
disease, of which the corporeal frame is
the subject ? How often have the opera
tions of the mind been carried on with
the greatest intensity, when the body has
been hastening to dissolution, and thus
the spirit has triumphed over the flesh !
“Pardon and peace through him abound ;
He can the richest blessings give ;
Salvation in his name is found ;
He bids the dying sinner live.”
. SHOOTING HENS.
The Carpet Bag tells the following
good one:
Col. B. and Gen. M. were formerly
neighbours, and had gardens adjoining
each other. One pleasant morning in
spring, about the time of planting, Col.
R. met his friend, the General, in the
street, boiling over with rage, who ad
dressed him after this wise :
“Confound vour darn’d old hens, Colo
nel, they’ve been in my garden, and
scratched the beds every which way ; 1
shall have to make them all over again ;
1 can’t you shut them up this autumn ?”
“Keep cool, General,” said the Colonel,
I prefer that my hens should have plenty
of sun, air, exercise and food, and I don’t
believe-that your garden seeds will hurt
them at all. However, if they trouble
you much, shoot ‘em—shoot ‘em'.' 1
“I will by thunder, Colonel,” said the j
| still more excited General, “I'll do it, j
I’ll do it, blamed if 1 don’t,” and turning
around on his heel, marched away, mad
as a wild-cat.
The next morning as the Colonel was
sipping his coflee, the family was startled
by the “bang,” “bang,” of fire-arms, the
cause of which was soon ascertained.
The Colonel, on going to the division
fence, looked over and saw Gen. M. in
the act of double murder. Six fine spe
cimens of the “dung-hill” foul were floun
cing about on the ground, unwilling just I
yet to yield up their gizzards to the gour- j
mand.
“Aha, General! so you are executing
your threat, are you ?”
“To be sure, I told you I’d do it , and
141 lI 4 1l be darned if 1 don’t shoot all the rest, ;
if you don’t shut ’em up. But here, take {
the thievish critters, I don’t want ’em ;
they are too highly seasoned with shot
for my family.”
Thank you, thank you, Gen. M., just
1 wait a day or two before you kill any
more, until we eat these up, and then I’ve
no objection to having the rest shot.”
Now, Colonel R. was rather jealous of
his rights, and, moreover, as fiery as Mars
| in his disposition, and it was a great mys-1
tery to the General how he could keep
so cool about this matter. The sequel
will show.
In two or three days after, three more
fine fat chickens were thrown into the
Colonel’s garden, and duly taken care of
by the cook.
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