Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/419

 EDITQR’S EDITORIAL CHIT—CIIAT. W110 .tar. YOU GOING TO Martini—Yes, who are you going to marry? None of my business? Well, perhaps not. but after a fashion I shall make it my business.

I repeat, who

are you going to marry? That fop who sits opposite you with the foot of an opera dancer in his month? That simper ing fellow who takes you every other night to the theatre or the ball-room, and treats you afterward to an expensive supper? Heaven pity your future! “ Men." say some, “conceal their real sentiments. habits and opinions for years.” Don't believe- it. The truth is. most

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TABLE. “A'r Sr...”—Under this head we ﬁnd the following poem ﬂoating through our exchanges. anonymously. Who is the author? Surely no untried hand wrote it. How full it is of pictures! We know not in what- way it may affect you, fair reader, but parts of it brought the tears to our eyes, though we pass for rather a stern specimen of manhood. Midnight in droar New England; ’Tis a driving storm ofsuow—

How the casement clicks and rattles, And the wind keeps on to blow! For a thousand leagues of coast-line, In litfnl flurries and starts, The wild Ncu'tb-l-iaster is knocking At lonely windows and hearts.

womendwﬁwo marriage, encourage looseness and familiarity

with rice by their foolish inconsistency. They treat the oc casioual glass, the occasional cigar with elegant raillery: smile as they protest, and end by saying that “men are so different from women!" How can this be? Has God made any promise—left any margin for the delinquency of men?

Of a uieht like this, how many Must sit by the hearth, like me, Hearing the stormy weather, And thinking of those at sea! III/ JAIWVJ‘NJI{Ill -MWrINJ-I‘lAM>-w'rJ‘-lfWIrlN/wMVvWIriNlVMWNI JI J

Has [to said, thou woman shalt not swear—thou woman

shalt not commit adultery? Is there any better reason why a man should muddle his brains with cigar-smoke than that a woman should indulge in her pipe of tobacco? Is it really any worse for a man to get beastly drunk than for a woman? Away with these excuses for sin! Stop that everlasting twaddle that such and such persons are excusable because they are men. It has ruled the world too long. It has trained too many recruits for Satan’s

Of the hearts chilled through with watching— The eyes that wearily blink, Through the blinding gale and snow~drift, For the Lights of Navesinltl How fares it, my friend. with you? If I've kept your reckoning aright, The brave old ship must be due On our dreary coast to-uight. The fireside fades before me. The chamber quiet and warm-— And I see the. gleam of her lanterns

In the wild Atlantic storm. army. But “bi-nit this matter of ﬁnding out who you are going to marry. there seems to be a shrinking from all serious thought upon the subject. “I like him very much, and am determined to have him! I have called to see if you knew anything against his cha racter; but if you do you musn’t tell me, for I shau‘t believe you. I’m going to be married because—well, because it"s customary, and I don't want to be an old maid. Besides, I shall have some one to pet me, to wait upon me, to stay at

Like a dream ’tis all around me— Tlie gale, with its steady boom, And the crest of every roller Torn into mist and spurne— The Sights and the sound of Ocean, On a night of peril and gloom. The shroud of snow and of spume-drift, Driving like mad a-lee— And the huge black hulk that wallow:

Deep in the trough of the sea. The creak of the cabin and bulkhead

home with me when I am sick, to be devoted to me alone.

The wail of rigging and mast—

and, in fact. I rather fancy being styled a married woman.” "But you don't consider what a serious thing it is to unite. your destiny with that of a. stranger. How do you know what his habits have been—who his acquai ntanees are—where are his haunts? If they are bad, after the uoVelry of the marriage life is over—after he has presented you to the world as his prize—after he has seen that your wants are sufficiently or insufficiently attended to, he will return to his old manner of life. No matter how lovely you may be, or how accomplished, you are chained. A helpless babe lies in your bosom; hands and heart are full: and if you have made a mistake in your choice; or. if you blindly married him when you knew, or had reason to fear, on the representations of those who loved you, that his course had been a vicious one, God help you! But- don‘t say, if you married him in utter ignorance of his character. that you never dreamed of this neglect—this loneliness—this suffering—these lt'tll‘ii— his iuditl'erenee. perhaps brutality. Were you destitute of common sense that you took ey'erything for granted? What! it would not have been modest nor delicate to make such in quiries? Are you too modest, too delicate new for his re proaches, his taunts, his desertion? Girls. for the sake of purity. be as modest, an sensitive, as God intended you should be; but be sure that the man to whom you are about committing yourself for life. has. to the full, these indispensable qualiﬁcatimis for a happy and holy wedlock. a belief in the word of inspiration, and a character that will bear the strictest investigation.

Tho roar of tho shrouds, as she rises

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From a deep lee-roll, to the blast.

The sullen throb of the engine, Whose iron heart never tires-— The swnrthy faces that redden By the glare of his CttVt'l‘lmd ﬁres. The binnacle slowly swaying And nursing the faithful steel—

And the grizzled old quarter-master, lIis horny hands on the wheel. I can see it—the little cabin— Plainly as if I were there— The chart on the old green table, The book, and the empty chair. On the deck we have trod together, A patient and manly form, To and fro. by the foremost,

Is pacing in sleet and storm. Since her keel first struck cold water By the stormy Cape‘s clear light, ’Tis little of sleep or slumber Hath lain on that watchful sight And a hundred lives are hanging 0n eye and on heart to-night. Would that I walked beside him, This hour, on her Wintry deck, Recalling the Legends of Ocean, 0f ancient battle and wreck. But the stout old craft is rolling A hundred leagues a-lee—

Fifty 0f suow-wreathed hill-side, And ﬁfty of foaming lee.