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barren are better than them that beareth children nevertheless, notwithstanding fur which.

“Wal, these here eagles pitched their tent in this waste, howling wilderness, whar they wur as lonely as a solitary snipe in dog-days — down on Coyote creek, down thar — and the dear little babes in the woods which wur covered by the robin-redbreasts, who sung their funeral hymn. Thar they wur, whar they builded their nests and sot to hatchin' out their chicks.

"Now when these eagles struck that are spot they went thair whole pile on it; fır it was to thair taste, and looked as if it had the color big. Fust, they got whar there wur two cross-limbs; then they brought big sticks, and laid 'em carefully round and round until it begun to look sorter like a big balloon careening in the sky, only it was on to a tree; then they put in it littler sticks, and littler and littler till bimeby it wur small and compact like. Then they got all the wool and down and moss and soft things, and put 'em down into the bottom, and on the sides of its inside, and made it smooth and warm and comfortable like - like unto the man what filled his barns, and told his soul to be easy and take things nateral like — and laid thair eggs thar — but fur the terrible voice that said: 'Fool, this night thy soul shall be'— that is, he wur to die that very night, and all his nice things wouldn't be enny more use to him though they wurn't hurt, fur thair eggs were hatched and all thair young uns came out with nary a single feather on them — nevertheless, notwithstanding fur which,

"Wal, these eagles and thair young uns in thair fine home, and had on soft clothing like John the Immerser wandering in the wilderness, whar they wur in kings' houses — and the big uns fed 'em, as parients feed thair little uns -- though thar's a commandment agin stealing, which the eagles have to do, but it's thair natur — though that don't signify, fur a man's natur is to steal sumtimes, and he's got to fite agin that natur; fur when I would do good, evil is present — and a man aint an eagle-bird by chance -- nevertheless, notwithstanding fur

, which.

“When the eagles growed up and had feathers -- that is, when they came to the age of 'countability, which is expected of boys and girls like — though eagles' natur is different — then the old eagles wanted them to fly abroad and mount up on wings of eagles, and jine the song that floats around the throne. And that's whar the text begins ; for that's the way the Father up yonder wants us to do when we reach the age of 'countability to fly upward — to fly upward and jine the band in the narrer way and pass through the strait gate. But they didn't like to leave home and thair kinred and thair parients, and seek a country like unto the good old Abraham

• Whar, oh whar is the good old Abraham?
Whar, oh whar is the good old Abraham?
Whar, oh whar is the good old Abraham ?

Safe in the promised land !'-“not knowing whither he went — though we know whar it is He wants us to go, that lanů of pure delight.' So the rooster eagle gits right among them and kicks right and left and stirs 'em up, and they

begin to feel an awful stirring and want to git away — fur He stirreth up the nest — and sometimes we are stirred up, and the power of sin is felt, and we begin to feel the hot air from below rushin' up like the air from a register — which by the same isn't used in this beautiful land of Californy –

Whar the wild flowers bloom

All the year round ’"and hear the devils cry, “That's my game!' and feel old Satan a grippin' at us — and we git a kind o' scared like, fur he is stirring up his nest but that aint enough. We crawl up like the baby eagles and look down and see the dark purcipice ; we look up and don't see nothing to stand on up thar, fur we aint reconciled — and we look around, and the old scurvy pine-tree seems better than nothing, and so they settle down in the soft wool and down and comfortable things, and don't think of flying upwards whar the bright waters flow, and the rivers of waters clear as crystal, and the tree that shadders the airth, and whar thar's

• Rest for the weary!
Rest for the weary !

Rest fur me'“and we air afeered to try, because, like the young eagles, we feel we are weak and like little babies in good, and fold our hands and say, A little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands, when I have a convenient season I'll send fur thee, fur almost thou persuadest me. We haven't tried our feathers yet our pinions aint strong to-morrer may be too late, fur the smoke of thair tormint is like unto a weaver's shuttle it endureth but a little time and then it is gone, and whar are you then? Nevertheless, notwithstanding fur which.

Then the old eagle goes off and 'fluttereth over her young,' and that brings us to the second pint of our discourse. “She flutiereth,' she flops her wings, like unto as you have seen a hawk just gitting ready to pounce down upon a poor field-mouse — though it aint like that neither, for the hawk flutters in wrath, but the eagle flutters over her young uns in love. Brethren and sisters, she flutters in love just like when you see your dear little ones a treading of the downward path, and your heart flutters and Autters because you're afraid - and she goes above the nest and hollers squawk — which when you holler you means to tell 'em to 'take keer,''take keer '- only the bird's talk is not like unto our talk — and they hear that voice, and creep onto the sides of the nest, and see thair fond parient a-flopping of thair wings, and cry with thair little peeked voice peek — which means father dear and mother dear I like to foller you, - fur

* I'm bound fur the land of Canaan !

I'm bound fur the land of Canaan !
I'm bound fur the land of Canaan !

Fur it is my happy home'

"and they'd like to foller thair father eagle and thair mother eagle, as they mount up and look at the shining sun without blinking thair eyes — fur they say, that's our eagles' natur and it's strange how often natur comes in — but a man like unto you and me can't — but I didn't mean these here eyes that we see with, but the inner eyes that can

"Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,

While it is day'“and aint blinked by the glory and the shining and the brightness no more than them thar eagies ; but they see 'em floating on nothing, and don't know they hev got wings and the air can hold 'em up, so they cry peck, which means as before said, and look out and want to fly, but they dussent. Bretheren and sisters, they dussent — and only see the soft down and the nice wool and the good things in thair home here on this airth, and so they snuggle down like unto a man on a cold morning in his bed while the birds all are a-singing, and all nature is a-carousing the song

• Early to bed and early to rise,

Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise'"and he's got to stir 'em up agin. Nevertheless, notwithstanding fur which.

“So he gits into thair nest, and begins to pick away thair soft things. Fust he takes away thair wool and cotton and moss out, and

• The cold wind doth blow,

And if they have snow,
What will the eagles do then, poor things ?'

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“And the little eagles feel the hair and the moss and the twigs underneath aint as good as the wool and the down, and they look up and want to fly; but they dussent, though they git very oneasy-- they dussent ontil they begins to think hair and twigs better than

* The river filled with blood, Whar saints immortal reign

“And that's jist so if we won't fly upward.

Then He takes one by one our good things away our money, our goods, our chattels, our houses, our farms, our mines the water that fills our ditches, the gold lead in our claim runs out, and thar aint the first nugget left. Even then we don't give in, and He takes the little branches away. Oh, my friend, it is sad when he takes the little branches away! but they go, then all we cling to, like them little eagles with thair feet a-clinging to the last big stick that war put thar by the big eagles fur a foundation fur thair nest. The eagle hath stirred her nest, she hath fluttered over her young — and that brings us to the third pint of our discourse.

"And now, my dear friends, what does she do? Look, bretheren and sisters, what does she do? She spreadeth abroad her wings. Thar she is right up in the sky!- her wings stretched, like the shadder of a mighty rock in a dry land. Thar below is the little eagles a-standing on the last stick, the last prop, holdin' on with their tremblin' feet

like grim death, while fiery billows roll beneath - afeard to fly, afeard to stay, afeard to do anything, afeard not to do something knowing thar is a deep purcipice, whar the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched — knowing thar is a place whar the streets run with milk and honey, and whar thar's no weepin', no mourning, no gnashing of thair teeth — knowing they hain't got nothing here, nor won't have nothing thar unless they stir themselves and fly upward. Oh, my friends, jist think on it! Why don't they fly upward ? Thar they tremble and shiver and cry out, and want to fly but dussentwaiting fur a convenient season which never comes; and thar above all is the old eagle a-spreading abroad of her wings and looking down to see if they won't do something — like men and wimen, instead of jist staying thar like marble statues to be wasted about by every breeze and thar she is a-spreading abroad her wings, until at last she gives one great squawk of wrath, and flops down on the whole brood, and knocks the last pin from under 'em. And whar are they? Yes, and whar are you, my bretheren and sisters ? Whar are you?-some a-fluttering like wounded doves, down, down to the lake whar they cry for a drop of water to cool the parched tongue, whar Lazarus was in poor Dives' bosom or a-mounting up on wings of eagles — whar they shall run and not get weary, whar they shall walk and not faint. Nevertheless, notwithstanding, fur which.

“And that brings us to the fourth pint of our discourse, which is He taketh 'em. And thar's different ways of taking things. Thar's people with mighty takin' ways, and thar's officers what takes you to jail — and thar's boys that takes apples and peaches, which things they oughtent — and thar's people what takes you in which isn't meant for the good ups which take strangers in and takes keer on 'em -- like unto the Gommorians when Lot's wife was took into the house like a pillar of salt and divided into four quarters and sent into the land of Israel, for which the anger burnt agin 'em for the hurt of the daughter of Israel was sore.

“ But He taketh them — I don't mean the eagles — and leads them to near pastures and beside still waters, whar there's no more sighing and suffering, no more weeping and parting - fur

• Parents and children thar shall meet!
Parents and children thar shall meet!
Parents and children thar shall meet !

Shall meet to part no more
On Canaan's happy shore !'”

Imagine all this uttered in the most impassioned manner, the tears at times streaming down the preacher's face, and the quotations from psalm-book, Mother Goose, or Franklin's aphorisms - chanted with a rich full voice, and you can get a glimpse of Father Carter in his palmy days. On Father Carter's preaching days in San Andreas the public “meeting-house” would be crowded to excess. People assembled not to laugh, but to have their feelings wrought up by the manner and excitement of the preacher; and those who could not appreciate, with the exception of a few graceless scamps, would stay away. An eloquent and learned Presbyterian clergyman, who also

visited that mining-camp, would collect a congregation of thirty or forty, and a Methodist, a man of culture and earnestness, would double that number; but Father Carter would " draw the boys," as he not very elegantly expressed it, in great numbers.

B. R.



VEN in this day of false pretences and pretensions, outrageous

fraud and triumphant humbug, to take up the cudgels and offer battle boldly in their behalf is at best a gage of hazard demanding an extraordinary degree of courage. “Sin as you will,” says irate Mistress Grundy, "lie and dissemble without annoyance from an indurated and perfunctory conscience, but leave vulgar ignorance the calling of things by their right names,-'Quamque rem suo nomine appellare.' Respect public opinion. Respect me! Let not thy next-door neighbor know what thy right hand doeth ; for by self-deception alone shall society retain its self-respect!”

A plague on such Spartan morality, say I! I propose to make a martyr of myself, if need be, at the altar of shams, affectations, simulations, aye, and dis-simulations as well when the exigency demands. I believe they are good things. I believe they are right. I know they are expedient; and I am ready to give a reason - several of them - for the faith that is in me.

"Affectation! O law!” and pretty Miss Araminta lifts her dimpled hands in holy horror and artless deprecation of "the bare i-de-ah." Just so, my dear; 'tis the very bareness of the i-de-ah that so shocks your sensibilities. But wait a bit until I dress it up somewhatclothe it in garments of reason and sound sense: perhaps it won't seem so repulsive, even to one as entirely free from affectation as you would fain persuade yourself you are. The truth of the matter is, Miss, and you may as well be told so now as later, you are full of affectation - - an affectation of extreme simplicity and artlessness. You don't know yourself; but others do!

“The world's a stage” beyond a doubt, since Shakspeare said it ; but life is a masquerade. As we, the maskers, move amid the restless throng, we fondly hug the delusion that though we pierce without difficulty the thin disguises of our fellow-players, and see them as they are, in puris naturalibus, we alone fill our roles so well as to defy detection. What all men believe is, in this case at least, a lie. Yes, we all pretend to be what we are not; and this being the case, seeing


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