Eternity [pp. 41]

THE YOUNG ITINERANT.
Original.
THE YOUNG ITINERANT.
THE trials and adventures of youth make the
most durable impressions, because they are the first
that are recorded upon the tablet of the mind; and
they appear the most severe, because the heart
has not been disciplined to endurance by previous
sorrows. Never shall I forget the circumstances
attending my first appearance as an itinerant, nor
will time erase the feelings that stirred my soul on
my first visit to my strange friends, with whom I
was to labor. It was in one of the smiling valleys
of the Walhonding. There was a gracious revival
of religion in progress in the place when I arrived,
which seemed to sweep along those fertile vales and
leave its influence on every heart. A solemnity
like that of a death-chamber pervaded the house of
worship. The pool was troubled; souls diseased
stepped in, and rose rejoicing. With difficulty I
made my way to the pulpit, where I found a former
acquaintance, with whom I was now to be a yokefellow in the Gospel. The living mass of humanity
crowded on every hand. There was the countenance that beamed with late inspired joy; and
there bowed the anxious soul, whose moving lips
and heaving breast, and burdened brow, betokened
the intensity of godly sorrow. There sat the aged
saint, whose body bent beneath the cares of threescore years, by the side of the youthful warrior
just buckling on the Gospel armor. A heavenly
influence went out from the place; and under it
the stoutest-hearted trembled, and many a hardened rebel bowed. The protracted effort resulted in
the evangelical conversion of sixty-four, and in
changing the moral character of the entire community.
Here I formed an acquaintance with the principal persons in the bounds of the circuit; and the
peculiar circumstances under which we met procured
me a cordial welcome to every fireside I visited. It
soon came in my way to call upon an Irish gentleman engaged in the mercantile business. When I
entered the house the family arose, and the master
of the household, advancing with open and inviting
hand, said, with an Irish smile and an Irish brogue,
"Yer welcome here, and I am glad to see ye; and
its here yer home is." I soone after called at the
residence of a gentleman self-exiled from the land
of Wallace and of Burns. The dwelling, and
shrubbery, and furniture, and especially the man,
were stamped with "Scotland's mark." He bade
me welcome to his hospitable mansion with that
peculiar cordiality for which the Scotchman is remarkable; and after a short intimacy, he gave
me an account of his checkered life. It was
a tale of sorrow. But his eye was bright and
sparkling; his spirit unsubdued by a life of misfortune-he never despaired. Welcome to our
VOL. V.-6
shores, thrice welcome, ye generous Scotch! An'd,
as though the whole variety must be seen at once,
I next met with a wanderer from New England's
granite hills and snowy mountains. Here I found
a good specimen of the honorable and the upright.
There was at first a formality in the manners of
this family, and the "calculating" leer of the Yankee kept a stranger at a distance; but it soon
gave way to a friendship the most permanent and
endearing. With most of the characteristics of
eastern life, their hopes were inspired, and affections warmed, and friendships hallowed by the influence of the religion of Christ.
But I need not describe more. Here was the
hardy and honest Pennsylvanian, and the noblehearted Virginian, and the native of our own Ohio,
who had neither seen nor loved another land. The
tinme of parting was to me painful in the extreme.
Here I had made my first attempts to preach the
"Gospel of the grace of God." The people received me gladly, bore with my infirmities, sympathized with me in my sorrows, cheered my desponding spirits, and left an impression of their kindness
and Christian love which shall never be effaced.
May He in whose name their kindnesses were bestowed reward them on earth, and then in heaven!
G.
Original.
ETERNITY.
Go count the drops which form the ocean's depths:
Go tell the leaves which make the forest shade
In wilds immeasurable: then go and stand
Upon the ocean's far-extending shore,
And summon all the sand grains there and tell
Their hosts: then intermultiply the whole,
And that by all the countless multitude
Of brilliant gems that stud the firmament
On high: the sum of all then take, and call
Each one an age; and, with the mighty whole
As but the unit of thy scale, attempt
To measure thy eternity, and learn
The bound of thy existence.
Why thus stand
In mute astonishment? Say, tell me why?
The mighty unit sinks to nothingness
Amid the dread infinitude, and then
Infinity is still beyond! Who, who
Can hope to bound eternity, and tell
The lifetime of the immortal soul?
G. W
IN all this cold and hollow world-no fount
Of deep, strong, deathless love
Save that within a mother's heart.
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