The Weekly Anglo-African. (New York [N.Y.]), Vol. 1, No. 8, Ed. 1 Saturday, September 10, 1859 Page: 1 of 4
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VOL. I— NO. 8.
NEW YORK, SEPTEMBER 10, 1859.
PRICE FOUR CENTS
(Tlje (illccklg ^nglo-^frican
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" NO CROSS. NO CROWN."
If all in\ path Ihrough life diiiuM lie
Without a thorn, without a enre
If flowers cvi r t.tri iw.l the way.
If sorrow in \ er enu red theiv ,
If all was (juiet. Irumjilil. smooth ,
It happiness return-1 without alloy,
If ptrife and ditoord ne\er eaiue
If nil v\aa one continuous jo\
I should 1)0 t> nipted to forget
The hand that kindly all bestowed—
Foiyet to thank the God who gave,
Forget the tonroe from whence it (lowed.
I »hould lie tempted to forget
Mycelf a sinful worm to be,
That 1 a moment could not ntnftl,
I idefls sustained, my l.ord, hy Thee
Tis bent tliMt sorrow's cloak should l.ill
\ round na w hile we're here
It will hut make the joy more great
When with the Savior we appear
l.et me not grieve iftriuli eonie,
Or if the world upon tue frown
If I have never borne the cross,
llow can I hope to wear the erown ?
| From the Anirlo African Magazine for Sept J
CHESS.
—o-—
IIV JA1IKS u'otNK S MITH.
—a—
hi that sail autumn month <>f l8«r>7, when
tin- commercial panic had reached its height,
ami when Now York city secnwl the cen-
tial vortex of disaster—not only of the
I nitcil States, hut of the civilized world—
there were two occurrences in singular
contrast with the frightfully excited state
of the public mind To the few who had
tin- heart to look out of doors,out of doors
never looked more lovely. The air was
balmy and of delightful temperature, the
t k y was cloudless, the sunsets beautiful,
and nev er since the world began threw a
more gorgeous hue over mountain and for-
e t of the American landscape. We con-
fess to some sympathy with that gloomy
state of the public mind— not that we had
any golden argosy in stocks or shares which
went down -yet there was the coming
w inter, and possibly, wan cheeks and snp-
pcrlcsH beds to those dearer than life. Hut,
whatever gloom we felt, was one day sud-
denly dissipated by the glorious "onto!
doors," which had smiled and beckoned us
many a day unheeded, and which, now no
longer to be kept aloof, told us of the
goodness as well a ; the glory of the Al-
mighty We thought then, and we think
now , that had the men of (Jod, instead of
improving that dark hour with pictures of
darker sins and darker v engeance, and a
more fearful judgment to come, had they
simply wonted to the earth yielding he\
abundance, and to the air charged with
health, and the sky filled with the smile ol
God, and said to their alarmed people,
" IVace! be still!" there would soon have
been an end of all panic; cheerfulness
would have resumed her sway; and many
i grave would have yet remained unfilled,
and the sadder gates of our institutions for
the insane, would now hold some thousands
fewer within their portals.
The other occurrence was in-doors.
W hile men in Wall-street surged to and
fro, under impulses they no more under-
stood and could no more govern than the
iron waves in the howling storm: while
men in Broadway and other streets adja-
i cut — the masters suddenly arrested in their
gulden dreams of enormous profit, and the
workmen sadly folding up their implements
of labor; and while the poor, frantic with
nit unknown dread, rushed to the Savings
Hunks,* or gathered in bread mobs in the
distant parks,— iu the midst of this social
hurricane, there was one house in Br«>ad-
v\uv, in which men daily gathered, and
matter* w cut on
" 0-ahn a» a Milliliters sea,"
the very centre of the vortex, yet calm as
a moonlit pool, so deeply embayed in
mountains that no breath of air ct>uld reach
it -a land-locked haven, in which whoever
"ntered, however storm-riven or care-crush-
•M. became calm and still, and liung up his
Motive offerings to the senilis lori. which
neither music, nor dancing, nor dice,
■ w iue,nor opium, nor lotus,nor hasheesh,
1 ' "imply chess!—the immortal game.
It v. IS ;i marked instance of "faitk," thai
c.ilorid people of New York had over a
a nt dollars in inning* banks, scarce one of
\\
(» seen in the crowd who made this " run'
' i;j«« institutions
painted as played on the inside of the tomb
of Nevntp, the Egyptian, 3000 years B.
C. ;* but who can paint it as played at
Donadi's rooms in Broadway, in the year
of grace 1857?
We have said that " out of doors" dissi-
pated our gloom at that date; but in-doors—
this in-doors was an accessory cloud-dispell-
ed We "got" there after this wise:—
Years ago, in the early months of our still
persistent honey-moon, I purchased a pret-
ty, but fragile set of chessmen, ami aided
by an old copy of " Walker," and the new
Jrau, made some little progress in ch
until little fingers grew up round the ta e,
and made a general smash of knights,
pawns and rooks; and little cares of anoth-
er kind interfered with further proficiency.
And it is good testimony in favor of the
game, that wheh knight and pawn so went
to the bad, no harsh nor unkind word was
uttered against their young destroyers, the
chubby fingers were not rapped, nor their
owners punished. It is not always so,
however; we read of a passionate duke in
the middle ages, breaking the chess-board
on the skull of his conqueror, and I have
seen the wild Fylbel aim a sudden blow at
a little Frenchman, who recklessly swept
the men off the board w hen Fyl was about
to "mate" an opponent. My description
of the game attracted some friends to buy
board and book; and in a little while,
Fylbel, the Downing*,one ol the Reasons,
and an occasional jew-pedlar—who insisted
on taking the king, (the atrocious regicide!)
with the preliminary exclamation, " chess
if>■ kocnig"—formed as clumsy a set of
chess-players as could be hunted up. The
appearance of Staunton's Chess-Players'
Hand Book, was an era in our progress,
although months were wasted in discussing
the laws of the game by that born cnusidi-
ci/s, who now presides over the Sea-(!irt
House at Newport. In course of time we
became decent players
So the year *57 found us. It was some
relief, looking at the daily papers, to turn
from the failure of A, B A Co. for $150,000,
and from the suspension of specie payments
by the banks-—-except the glorions old
Chemical—to the viarnftlitl proceedings of
the first American Chess Congress, then in
session, admission for the week, to lookers
on, one dollar. But that dollar ? Was it
prudent, with hank account at low water,
and slim prospect of a How, aud on the
edge ol a long winter, with others depend-
ent, was it prudent so to bestow— to tlirow-
away—a dollar? After hearing counsel
before onrself three whole days, we held a
family council with " die frau," who at
once decided that we must go And "went"
we did. And the officers of the Chess
Congress, with nobler instincts of gentle-
men than the New York Academy of
Medicine,t did not hesitate or refuse to
admit a negro, even with the higli-bloods
from the South iu their midst, and the dan-
ger of the dissolution of the I'nion before
their eyes.
Having seen their portraits in Frank
Leslie, we instantly singled out Paulsen
and his great antagonist; and a little skill-
ful elbowing found us seated beside their
board There was Louis Paulsen with his
vast head, sangnine temperament, but
coarse fibre, indicating his rough, almost
pnre-Bersekir blood; and as we gazed at
Mnrphy, with his fine open countenance,
brunette hue, marvelous delicacy of fibre,
bright, clear eyes and elongated snbmaxil-
ary bone, a keen suspicion entered our eth-
nological department, that we were not the
only Carthaginian in the room It might
only be one drop, perhaps two—God only
knows how they got there—but surely be-
side the Tria-niidattin who at present writes,
there was also a Itekata-mvtaHin in that
room!
It was the old combat between Caur ,h
Lion and the Saladin. How strange that
the Orient and the Occident should yet
war! Paulsen—huge, massive, ponderous;
Morphy—slight, elegant, yet swift as light-
ning.
The game was about half through, so
far as the number of moves were concern-
ed. Paulsen hesitated, clasped his hands,
leaving out the two long fore-fingers, which
he laid firmly on the edge of the board,—
counted over the five or six possible moves
of his opponent, and then—evidently knew
• Bunsen, Egypt's Place in Universal History
Vol. S, p *83
t A month or two after the organization of the
New York Academy of Medicine, the writer of this,
at the request of the late I>r Bliss, and Dr. Tones,
sent hie name, with these gentlemen as v<mchcr»,
as an applicant for member chip It was duly re-
ferred to the proper committee, who sent their
chairman, the venerable Dr. Francis, with a letter,
acknowledging the fulness of tbe credentials, and
even passing an tncomium on the applicant, yet
respectfully requesting him to withhold Us appli-
cation for the present, lest it mig vt interfere with
the •• harmony " of the young institution This
hs did on conditions which the ow«iU*« and the
Academy took the earliest opportunity iagfaatly
to violate.
something more would follow,—but what ?
Yon could almost see him think: at len£ch,
O *
with a peculiar flourish of his arm, he
seizes a pawn and moves. With scarcely
a moment's hesitation, with his eyes for an
instant bent on the board, Morphy raises
his arm as if to strike, and throws a piece
right in the way of his antagonist. An-
other long, long pause, the'hands again
clasped:—"why, take the piece, man," is
on every body's unopened lips; yet Paul-
sen pauses, again clasps his hands, and for
nearly half an hour pores over the board;
he does not take the proffered piece, but
offers one of equal value: then something
akin to electricity flashed through and out
of Morphy, the calm white forehead "pleat-
ed up," his arm raised, he swiftly moves;
and, as if caught with the same impulse,
Paulsen moves instantly; then for a few
seconds, there is click, click, click—a move
each second—percussion-caps, rifles, can-
nons, grape, cannister, the clash of swords
—and then all is still. Flushed with the
struggle, Paulsen looks up to see why the
other does not move; and the other sits
calm and cold as an icicle; Paulsen glances
again at the board, and sees mate for him-
self three or four moves off!
Surely, thought we, chess is a question
of magnetism; given, a fair parity in skill
between two players, and the more power-
fully magnetic will sway and conquer the
will of the less magnetic, and force him in-
to moves according to Ins will. We had
tried this often, directly, with the suscepti-
ble engraver, P. II. R., and once, in a re-
flex manner, with J. S. of Providence. In
th is latter instance, he being the less prac-
tised player, but of impressible nerves, by
fixing our attention on the board at the
same moment with him, and marking out
the best move against us, he invariably
made that move, and won: per contra,
while, in another game, we made moves,
and then looked away; ignored the board
until he had moved: ill)magnetized, the ter-
mination of the game was speedily against
him.
How then did Paulsen, w itli his superior
magnetism and not very inferior skill, fail
to affect Morphy? The moment that Mor-
phy completed a move, he threw the whole
board away from his attention—brushed
away magnetism, so to speak—often went
off to the other end of the room, and had
to l»e summoned thence to reply to Paul-
sen's move * And it was very evident
that the study of the former was not at all
in relation to what Paulsen would move,
but, in regard to the possible moves and
combinations, embracing from twelve to
twenty moves, and their twelve times
twelve, and twenty times twenty of possi-
ble inter-combinations. This whirl of per-
mutation, with accurate results in each of
thousands of combinations,evidently passes
through Morphy's mind in like manner as
in Zerah Col burn and other arithmetical
prodigies, addition, subtraction, multiplica-
tion and the square root, are performed
with the rapidity and accuracy of Mr.
Babbage's machine So that for any one
less gifted in this peculiar power than Mor-
phy, to attempt to play with him, is like
one man at the brake of a fire-engine striv-
ing to play the same against another work-
ed by steam; or more accurately, for an
ordinary adept to endeavor to count interest
with Zerah Colbnrn, or the negro prodigy
recently announced in Alabama.
This leads us to enquire, what is chess ?
Is it a purely intellectual exercise, afford-
ing scope and improvement, and test of the
mental faculties? or is it a physieo-intel-
lectual exercise, engaging muscular as well
as brain work? What faculties does it
call into exercise ? The eye and fingers,
the muscles of the arm, and the muscles of
the orbit, the peculiar power of seeing the
men in their places, and of seeing men
that are in their places as if they were not
there, bnt elsewhere, and others, or blanks,
where they actually are—a sort of physi-
cal reticence and imagination acting at one
and the sam" moment—such is one phase
of chess exercise. Napoleon planned his
battles on large maps, with pin-heads indi-
cating the whereabouts of each corps, di-
vision, ami even brigade. He moved the
pins about as his thought required, and
thus completed his plan. But your chess-
player mnst go through this preliminary
fight without touching map or pin: be
must—most difficult reticence!—keep hands
off until he makes a complete survey of
the men and the field, and when he once
touches a man it must be moved beyond
recall. This requires a stretch of attention
very exhausting, nay, almost impossible to
some minds: it is the faculty which phre-
• Morphy, on meeting a new antagonist of first
class, generally loses the irst game He then sits
by the boaid, and i> under the magnetism of his
opponent Ten minutes reflection after the game
is over, shows him his own false play, and the
strength of his adversary in after games be de-
Um board and play as soon as ho has moved
nolo gists term "continuity? which is the
result, for the most part, of training, some-
times a gift. We notice, in nearly all the
chess-playing friends we have named, that
their failure in play depends on the lack of
this faculty. G. T. D., for example,makes
the most vigorous attacks of any of them,
but, after the twelfth or sixteenth move,
his attention is exhausted, and some care-
less move makes him an easy prey to a less
vigorous opponent. In his case, this fail-
ure in attention, or continuity, is confined
to his chess play; in business, or in public
movements, in which he is deeply interest-
ed, he is constant, persistent, and steadfast
as a sleuth-hound. This would seem to
indicate that his perceptive faculties are
deficient, or are easily wearied, over the
chess-board. Per contra, among these
friends, P. H. R.,the engraver, is the o nly
one who plays an even, unflagging game
throughout; indeed, as many have found
to their chagrin, plays the better end-game,
the worse his chances appear to be. His
perceptive faculties are trained by his em-
ployment, and rather improve than weary
by continuity of exercise.
Another amateur, W. C. I., is a most
interesting study at the chess-board. He
has fine perceptive faculties, is a splendid
boxer, of quick, strong combative temper-
ament, and of full physical imagination.
He makes the most beautiful combinations
we ever saw on the chess-board: they seem
as brilliant as fireworks; bnt he loses al-
most every game, not from breaking down
of his continuity or attention, so much as
from an incurably mercurial disposition,
which leads him to forsake a sound move
for one apparently more brilliant, but less
safe. This gentleman bought a mare tfe
other day, which in twenty-four hours
kicked three wagons to pieces, and threw
him out each time: of course, instead of
getting rid of her, he is " bound " to break
her, it will be " such a splendid feat."
From the nature of the faculties which
it calls into play, we regard chess as a
physical as well as intellectual exercise,
requiring muscular work as well as brain
work. Cricket, billiards, chess, rise from
the physico-intellectual to the intellectuo-
physical, and chess, billiards, cricket, in-
verse the order. Lookers-on at cricket
feel the blood rush, the muscles clench, and
a " hurra" escaping from the lips. Look-
ers-on at billiards, tell me that to see Phe-
lan play affords the highest possible physi-
cal enjoyment.* Lookers on at chess feel
their muscles twitching, their fingers clasp-
ing and moving imaginary men—and their
heads aching when the game is done.
Another reason why we regard chess
less as an intellectual than a physical exer-
cise consists in the fact, that the highest
eminence in chess is attained before the
age of full intellectual development. In
our American Chess Congress, the champi-
ons of the champions were very young
men—Morphy twenty, and Paulsen twen-
ty-three or four. McDonnell, Staunton,
Harrwitz, Stanley, all won their laurels in
their early days. The best chess players
on record, in like manner had attained tl eir
eminence while under thirty years of age;
while the human intellect is not at its full
development until between the thirty-fifth
and forty-fifth year of the individual. And
if chess-playing maximum occurs before
the intellectual maximum, it follows that
chess is not a purely intellectual exercise.
Furthermore, a man's force in chess, like
his physical power or force, diminishes
after he is thirty years of age. Yankee
Sullivan at forty-three, some eighteen years
after he had passed his physical maximum,
was no match for his own equal, aged twen-
ty-five : hence the years told in Tom Hyer's
favor. In like manner, Mr. Stanley, who
at twenty-two had won a match against
Mr. St. Amant, in New Orleans, was but a
third-rate player at forty years of age:
and the real excuse for Mr. Stanton, in de-
clining to play with Morphy, was, that he
had passed his maximum chess-playing age
some twenty years ago, and could not be
expected, an old man, to acquit himself as
if he had been a young one. "I will take
to my work, let the young gentleman take
to his play," was really a truthful and ade-
quate reason for declining to play; but
" why not say this before?" say the critics.
Because, on practising, as he doubtless did,
in private, Mr. Staunton discovered that
his chess skill was dulled to his own appre-
hension, his chess muscles had lost their
wonted fire and lubricity in the gambit.
Au rcste what a stupid piece of red repub-
licanism it is, in the midst of the ninteenth
century, to expect a king, even of chess,
to throw away his crown wittingly before
an unknown cavalier, kowever preux!
In relation to the higher faculties which
it calls into exercise, chess affects less the
* Probably that sense of pleasure from muscu-
lar movamest announced by Brown, in his Lectures
«a the Philosophy of the Human mind; pp. 134.
1M- Glnag. 1890-
pure reasoning powers than is usually taken
for granted. Classed as a division of math-
ematical study, it belongs to the arithmeti-
cal rather than the transcendental depart-
ment of mathematics: it is no higher than
permutation. All possible moves of a
given number of pieccs can be summed up
in an intelligible line of figures less than a
yard long. The objection, therefore, of
the great Scotch metaphysician to math-
ematics, as a means of mental development
—that they lead to only positive results,
as in a grooved track—applies with double
force to chess, which calls into exercise
one of the lower branches of mathematics
only.
A great deal has been said about inven-
tion in relation to chess-playing, and a
London newspaper especially lauds the in-
ventive genius of Mr. Morphy. If our
view of his peculiar power be the correct
one, then there is no invention in his play.
All the possible combinations of the moves
before him appear to his mind as clearly as
K. p. to K. 4 to an ordinary player; and
from what he sees, he selects the best play.
It is about as much invention as is exer-
cised by a natural arithmetician, in an-
nouncing in a minute, a difficult result in
interest for days—no more. Besides, this
gentleman—the very best of known living
chess-players—seems singularly deficient
in even the moderate degree of invention
which can be predicated of chess. We
have the Evans Gambit, the Scotch Gam-
bit, the Muzio Gambit, &c. &c., but we have
not yet the Morphy Gambit, nor is there
in print more than one very common-place
problem by our modern chess king.
But the problems! l>o not tliey require
invention ! If they do, it is invention of
no higher cliaracter, and requiring no great-
er powers, than to construct certain figures
with a Chinese puzzle; and a first-rate
problem-composer is seldom, if ever, a first-
class player.
These views of the status of chess-play-
ing, receive confirmation from the fact that
first class chess-players have seldom, if
ever, distinguished themselves in the higher
departments of thought, or invention. Mr.
Buckle, the author of "Civilization in Eng-
land," may be adduced as an exception: he
was, fifteen 3-ears ago, among the most
eminent chess-players in Europe; he sud-
denly gave up chess-playing, betook him-
self to study, and his admirable volume is
the first fruits of fifteen years of intense
application. Yet, while he betrays an ex-
tent of reading wider than that so pom-
pously aunounced by Gibbon, and while
strong common-sense and keen observation
are abundantly manifest in bis work, there
is lacking the bold grasp and deep insight
which we find in Hume and Sir James
Mackintosh, and even in Dumas. Mr.
Buckle lets us into the secret of his short-
comings, moreover, in the following sen-
tence:—" Whoever will take the pains fair-
ly to estimate the present condition of
mental philosophy, must admit that, not-
withstanding the influence it has always
exercised over some of the most powerful
minds, and through them over society at
large, there is, nevertheless, 110 other study
which has been so zealously prosecuted, so
long continued, and yet remains so barren
nj resultsBarren of results! Shades
of Locke, Malebranche, Berkeley, Dugald,
Stewart, Reid, Brown, Cousin and Sir Wil-
liam Hamilton! Of course, Mr. Buckle is
an ardent admirer of An gust e Compte,
and fifteen years of purely literary labor
has not raised him above the intellectual
level of the chess-board.
Yet chess-playing is an amusement wor-
thy of cultivation, especially for the young.
It is better in-door entertainment than
cards, or dice, or lager-bier; it has been
well said that it does not lead to gambling.
It has the positive merit of improving the
tone of manners, and of cultivating the
power of attention In looking at Morphy
and Paulsen in 1857, we were struck with
the evident purity of both these young
men. Neither presented the bleared eyes,
shaking hands, nor nervous tremor, w hich a
four hours' sitting would betray in nine-
tenths of our young men of the city: they
were plainly in perfect physical condition,
and all their facultios were clear and in full
honest exercise. And so must the devo-
tees of chess keep themselves, or they will
inevitably loose rank as chesti players.
FIXEDNESS OF PURPOSE
When a child is learning to walk, if you
can induce the little creature to keep its
eyes fixed on any point in advance, it will
generally " navigate" to that point without
capsizing; but distract its attention by word
or act from the object before it, and down
goes the baby. The rule applies to chil-
dren of a larger growth. The man who
starts in life with the determination to reach
• certain position, and adheres unwavering-
ly to his purpoee, rejecting the advice of
the over-cautious ana defying the auguries
of the timid, rarely fails, if jhe live long
enough, to reach the goal for which he sets
out. If circumstances oppose hiin, be
bends them to his exigencies by the force
of energetic, indomitable will. On the oth-
er hand, he who vascillates in his course,
" yawing," as the sailors say, towards all
points of the compass, is pretty sure to be-
come a helpless castaway before his voyage
of life is half completed.
There can be no question, among philo-
sophic observers of men and events, that
fixedness of purpose is a grand element of
human success. Weathercock-men are na-
ture's failures. They are good for noth-
ing. Better downright pig-headed obstina-
cy than eternal vascillation; better wilful
blindness to danger, however menacing,
thau the hesitancy which is forever weigh-
ing the possibility of defeat against the
chances of victory. The men of action,
whose names are written impterisbably on
the page of history, were men of iron.
Silky fellows may do for intrigue, but the
founders, tand conquerers, and liberators,
and saviors of empires, have all been of the
warrior metal. No human being who ha-
bitually halts between two opinions, who
cannot decide promptly, and having decid-
ed act as if there were no such word as fail,
can ever be great. Caesar would never
have crossed the Rubicon nor Washington
the Delaware, had they not fixed their stern
gaze on objects far beyond the perils at
their feet
FOR THE RIGHT.
We stand here together, with courage and will.
Resolved the right cause to maintain;
With hearts true and constant, whatever may
come.
We firm as the rocks will remain.
For the right! for the right! here unflinching we
stand;
1 pledge you the word, and I reach you the hand.
An aim and a purpose be formed in each ' "art,
Which yet must awake in their might.
To raieto the degraded, relieve the oppressed.
And fearlessly stand for the right.
For the right! for the right! here unflinching we
stand;
So pledge me the word, and eo reach me the
hand.
No fear, 110 6elf-seeking must enter our band.
No question of evil report;
All nations, all people, of every land,
To us must be brothers in heart.
For the right! for tlio right 1 all unflincliiug we
stand,
Here pledge we the word, and here join wu the
hand.
'r m ^
EVENING PRAYER.
—o -
" Our Father."
The mother's voice was ! >w and ten ler,
and solemn.
" Our Father.*
On two sweet voices the tones were borne
upward.
It was the innocence of reverent chil-
dren that gave tliem utterance.
" Who art in Heaven."
" Who art in Heaven," repeated the chil-
dren, one with her eyes bent meekly down,
aud the other looking upward, as if she
would penetrate the heavens into which her
heart was aspiring.
" Hallowed be thy name."
Lower fell the voices of the little ones.
In a gentle murmur, they said,
" Hallowed be thy name."
" Thy kingdom come."
And the burden of the prayer was still
taken up by the children.
" Thy will be done uu earth as it is in
Heaven," filled the chamber.
And the mother continued—
" Give 11s this day our daily bread."
" Our daily bread," lingered a moment
on the air, as the mother's voice was hush-
ed into silence.
" And forgive us our dobts as we also
forgive our debtors."
"And lead us not into temptation, but
deliver us from evil."
" For thine is the kingdom, and the pow-
er, and the glory, forever."
" Amen."
All these holy words were said piously
and fervently by the little ones, as they
knelt with clasped hands beside their moth-
er. Then, as their thoughts, uplifted on
the wings of prayer to their Heavenly Fa-
ther, came back again aud rested on their
earthly parents, a warmer love came gush-
ing from their hearts.
Pure kisses—tender kisses—the fond
"good night." What a sweet agitation per-
vaded all their feelings. Then two dear
heads were placed side by side on the
snowy pillows, the mother's last kiss given,
and the shadowy curtains drawn.
What a pulseless stillness reigns without
the chamber. Inwardly the parents' ears
are bent. They have given those innocent
ones into the keeping of God's angels, and
they can almost hear the rustle of their
garments as they gather around their
sleeping babes. A sigh, deep and tremu-
lous, breaks on the air. Quickly the mo-
ther turns to the father of her children, with
• look of earnest inquiry on her counte-
nance. And he answers thus her silent
questions:
" Far back through many years have my
thoughts been wandering. At my mother's
knee thus said I nightly my childhood's
evening prayer. It was that best and ho-
liest of all prayers,' Our Father,' that she
taught me. Childhood and my mother
passed away. I went forth as a man into
the world, strong, confident, and self-seek-
ing. Once I came into great temptation.
Had I fallen in that temptation, I should
have fallen never to rise again. I
about yielding. All the barriers I could
oppose to the in-rushing flood seemed just
ready to give way, when, as I sat in my
room one evening, there came from an ad-
joining chamber, now first occupied for ma-
ny weeks, the murmur of low voices. I
At first no articulate sound was
heard, aud yet something in the tones stir-
red my heart with new and strong emo-
tions. At length there came to my ears
iu the earnest, loving voice of a woman, the
words—
"' Deliver us from evil.'
" For an instant it seemed to mo as if
that voice were that of my mother. Back,
with a sudden bound, through all the inter-
vening years, went my thoughts, anil, n
child again, I was kneeling at my mother's
kuee. Humbly and reverently *1 said over
the words ot the holy prayer she had taught
me, heart and eye uplifted to Heaveu. The
hour and the power of darkness had pass-
ed. I was no longer standing in slippery
places, with a flood of water ready to sweep
me to destruction; but my feet were on a
rock. Sly pious mother's care had saved
her son. In the holy w ords she had taught
me in childhood was a living power to re-
sist evil through all my after life. Ah 1
that unknown mother, as she taught her
child to repeat, this evening prayer, how
little dreamed she that the I10I3* words were
to reach a stranger's ear, aud save him
through the memor}' of his own childhood
and his own mother. And yet it was so.
What a power there is in God's word, ns it
flows into and rests in the minds of inno-
cent childhood."
Tears were in the eyes of the wife and
mother, as she lifted her face, and gazed
with a subdued tenderness upon the coun-
tenance of her husband. Her heart was
too full for utterance. A little while she
thus gazed, and then, with a trembling joy,
laid her head upon his bosom. Angels
were in the chamber w here their dear ones
slept, and they felt their holy presence.—
T. S. Arthur, in the Home Mission.
A THRILLING INCIDENT.
—o—
In returning from Philadelphia about the
middle of August, 1858, the cars were very
crowded, and my companion in the same
seat with me I lbund out to be a locomo-
tive engineer, and in the course of our con-
versation he made the remarkthat he hoped
he had run his last trip upon a locomotive
Upon making bold to ask his reasons, he
gave the following story, and since then I
have found it out to be strictly true:
" Five years since, I was running upon
the New York Central Railroad. My run
was from B to It . It was the
Lightning Express train, and it was what
its name denotes, for it was last—a very
fast run, if I do say it. The old Tornado
could go; 1 have seen her throw her six-
foot driver so fast as to be almost invisible
to the eye. And let nie hero remark, it i*
supposed by many that railroad engineers
are a hard-hearted set of men. Their lives
sre hard, it is true, but 1 do claim to have
is fine feelings and a heart that, can sym-
pathize with the unfortunate as uuy man
that breathes. But to my story.
" About half a mile from the village of
B there is a nice little cottage, but a
few feet from the track. At that time a
young married couple lived there. They
had cue child, a little boy ubo t lour year.-)
old—a bright, black-eyed, urly-headed
little chap as ever you taw. I had taken
a deal of interest in the littlo fellow, and
had thrown candy and oranges to him from
the train, and I was sure to see him peep-
ing through the fence when my train w as
passing.
" One fine sunny afternoon we were be-
hind time, and running fast; nor did we
stop at B , as 1 was to make up one
hour before reaching R . We came
up at a tremendous speed, and when sweep-
ing around the curve, my eye followed the
track. Not over two hundred feet ahead
sat the little fellow, playing with a kitten
which he held in his lap. At the sound of
our approach ho looked up and laughed,
clapping his little hands in high glee at the
affrighted kitten as it ran ofi' the track
Quicker than lightning that blasts the tall
pine upon the mountain top, I whistled
'down breaks' ar.d reversed the engine;
but it was impossible to stop. Nobly did
the old engine try to save him. The aw-
ful straining and writhing of its iron drivers
told but too plainly of the territic velocity
we had attained. 1 was out of* the cab
window and down on the cow-catcher in
an instant. I motioned him oil and shout-
ed. His little black eyes opened wide
with astonishment, and a merry laugh w/is
on his lips. I held my breath as we rush-
ed upon him; I made a desperate attempt
to catch him, but missed, and as his little
body passed I heard that feeble cry of
' Mother,' and the forward trucks crushed
his body into atoms.
" Oh, God ! that moment! I may live,
sir, to be an old man, but the agony of that
moment can never be erased from my mem-
ory. The cars stopped in a few moments,
aud I ran back as quick as possible. His
mother saw the train stop, and a fearful
foreboding flashed upon her at once. Sho
came rushing frantically to the spot where
we stood. Never shall I forget the look
she gave me, as she beheld her first-born a
shapeless mass. I would have given my
whole existenco to have avoided that mo-
ment.
" I have seen death in all Us forms up-
on railroads; 1 havo seen men women and
children mangled and killed; I have seen
all this, but that innocent little boy, as he
looked up in my face, and was killed al-
most in my arms, it unnerved me, and
from that day I made a solemn vow never
to run a locomotive more.
" That young mother is now in the Utica
Lunatic Asylum. From the Lour her boy
was killed, reason had left its throne."
He stopped and wiped the tears from his
•yes, and said:
" You may think it weak in me to shed
tears, but 1 cannot help it."
" No," I replied, " but I think it noble;
aud, 6ir, would to God every man had a
heart as large as yours."
I have often thought since how few t*e
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The Weekly Anglo-African. (New York [N.Y.]), Vol. 1, No. 8, Ed. 1 Saturday, September 10, 1859, newspaper, September 10, 1859; New York, New York. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth596195/m1/1/: accessed June 13, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; .