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diff --git a/33073-h/33073-h.htm b/33073-h/33073-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16064bb --- /dev/null +++ b/33073-h/33073-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1193 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Arm Chair, by Unknown Author. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + margin: 3em auto 3em auto; + height: 0px; + border-width: 1px 0 0 0; + border-style: solid; + border-color: #dcdcdc; + width: 500px; + clear: both; +} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: #999; +} /* page numbers */ + +/* Footnotes */ +div.fn { + background-color: #EEE; + border: dashed 1px; + color: #000; + margin-left: 25em; + margin-right: 25em; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + padding: 1em; +} + + .footnote { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + + .footnote .label { + position: absolute; + right: 84%; + text-align: right; +} + + .fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none; +} + +/* Poetry */ + + .pl10 {padding-left: 30%;} + + .poem { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: left; +} + + .poem br { display: none; } + + .poem .stanza { margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; } + + .poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + .poem span.i1 { + display: block; + margin-left: 1em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* Transcriber Notes */ +div.tn { + background-color: #EEE; + border: dashed 1px; + color: #000; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + padding: 1em; +} + + </style> + </head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Arm Chair, by unknown + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Arm Chair + +Author: unknown + +Release Date: July 4, 2010 [EBook #33073] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARM CHAIR *** + + + + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Larry B. Harrison and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE ARM CHAIR.</h1> + +<h3>"YOUR FATHERS, WHERE ARE THEY? AND THE<br /> +PROPHETS, DO THEY LIVE FOREVER?"</h3> + +<h4>SECOND EDITION.</h4> + +<h2>PHILADELPHIA—1843.</h2> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>MEMORANDUM.</h2> + +<p>The history of these rhymes is briefly this.—An +Arm Chair, made many years ago by <span class="smcap">John Letchworth</span>, +for <span class="smcap">Leonard</span> and <span class="smcap">Jane Snowdon</span>, was presented +to the Author, with some information of the +worthies who were wont to visit the estimable +owners; accompanied with an intimation that it +would be a suitable theme for some verses. The +result follows.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ARM CHAIR.</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="block pl10"> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap"><b>Cowper</b></span>, the poet of the Christian muse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sung of the Sofa; could I but infuse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some of his talent in my laggard quill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some of his genius on my verse distil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then would I sing,—my theme too from the fair,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy coevals, rhyme-creating chair!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He who with artist's skill scooped out thy seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trim made thy elbows, uprights, and thy feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now fourscore years and four has measured o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waits his summons to the heavenly shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honest as sunshine, he "who runs may read,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That <span class="smcap"><b>Letchworth</b></span> is "an Israelite indeed;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No guile within him ever finds a place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love of the Father spreads to all the race.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His gospel ministry is void of show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For "few and savory" are the words that flow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Condensed and pithy are his periods found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich in their matter, nothing for mere sound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So preaches he. Ah, what a sad mistake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When empty sounds upon the people break,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> + <span class="i0">When a stentorian voice in efforts vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roars to the people,—thunder without rain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its booming echoes may the soul appal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But no reviving showers on nature fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Would that my age,—if age to me be given,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might prove like his, who calmly looks to heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting with patience for the mandate blessed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thy labour finished, enter into rest!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here," said the patriarch, no more doomed to range,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Quiet I lie, waiting my final change."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go when thou wilt, thy faithful life will prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rich example, legacy of love!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah, my Arm Chair, supporter of the good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath how many a worthy hast thou stood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear me awhile, assist me to portray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some of the faithful who have passed away.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Here <span class="smcap"><b>Harrison</b></span>[<a href="#notea">1</a>] has spoke of what she saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In visions deep, when filled with holy awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curtain of the future half withdrew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While coming objects glided into view;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or as the past on memory's tablet rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rehearsed her gospel joys, her gospel woes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told how King George, as gushed the hidden springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bowed at her message from the King of kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of deep probations for her Lord she past;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Of her fond hope of joining him at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told how her soul, in sympathy, had long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne a deep burthen for the negro's wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Till the church freed her at her Master's will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In southern states love's purpose to fulfil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gospel power for Truth and right she spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Till slumbering consciences to feeling woke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oppressors' hearts with justice learned to beat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While bondmen's shackles fell beneath their feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her's was a righteous mission; to the door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of selfish masters she her message bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shot no fiery missiles from afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindling those feelings that engender war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But face to face Truth's message would impart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst love-tipped arrows entered many a heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus won she freedom for the sore oppressed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her work was honoured and her labour blessed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Or as the present did her thoughts engage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave to her juniors dear-bought counsel sage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bade her loved niece preserve in vessel pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sacred gift, and make her calling sure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bade her true partner as an Aaron be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uphold her hands, support her ministry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full well dear <span class="smcap"><b>Leonard</b></span> thou that charge redeemed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When through her heart the gospel current streamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In secret labour was thy spirit found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While trembling forth she sent the gospel sound;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> + <span class="i0">A very Quaker,—as she gave the law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her outward motion spoke her inward awe.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Here <span class="smcap"><b>Scattergood</b></span>, when evening came at length,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the day's toil reposed his weary strength;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Christian sympathy that solace drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which those can grant who heavenly joys pursue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mournful of spirit, he was ever found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sympathy with souls by sorrow bound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fell his plaintive voice upon the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poor in spirit felt a friend was near.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prompt in his duty at the house of prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To plead with fervour for his Master there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While crowds hung trembling on that zealous tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which only woke as living waters sprung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He never preached himself,—his every word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Directed to a slain and risen Lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He to the weary consolation brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He for the burthened sweet deliverance wrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though bound himself, the fettered oft set free,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Jeremiah of his age was he!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap"><b>Savery</b></span> has here oft passed a friendly hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeling of sympathy the magic power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As heart to heart the secret influence sent,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As prayer ascended where no knee was bent,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As for each other's welfare sighs were given,—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Unclothed with words, their wishes entering heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Indians' friend, he sought their native wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An anxious labourer for the redman's good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the lake, beneath the spreading tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His gospel message flowed as Truth set free.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Here too has sat,—like him of stature small,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great too of heart,—a minister like Paul,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One who, obedient to his Master's will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was studious found his duty to fulfil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six times went <span class="smcap"><b>Emlen</b></span>[<a href="#noteb">2</a>] o'er the Atlantic wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On gospel errands sinful man to save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still returning from his work of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came with his olive-branch and peaceful dove.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though years rolled on and outward sight grew dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lamp of Truth still brightly burned with him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showing distinctly in its searching light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deeds that the actors deemed were hid in night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His urim and his thummim was with God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he obedient to his Master's nod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As secret feeling told him of distress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sufferer's door-sill soon his foot would press.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus Mercy led,—and pleasantly he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he "by jobbing earned his daily bread."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, these were luscious morsels, ate with joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavenly relish free from all alloy;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Some of that bread of which the righteous eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That others know not of,—sustaining meat.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Here too <span class="smcap"><b>Rebecca Jones</b></span> sweet converse sought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With friends in unison of faith and thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With both of whom in gospel yoke she knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To labour as her Lord and Master drew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honest of purpose,—ardent in reproof<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To those who stood from duty's path aloof,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In public gatherings or in private hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To warn the giddy of impending fall,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebuke the forward,—lead the fearful where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mighty Rock did Israel's Lord prepare,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instant in duty,—though severe, yet kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She showed the vigour of a heaven-led mind.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Of ardent temper, quick and flashing zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keen as high polished but too brittle steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In earlier life <span class="smcap"><b>James Cresson</b></span> had been found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a high steed when first in harness bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But grace had tempered, and obedience wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A change of character in word and thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His ardent feelings felt love's holy calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fitting a follower of the lowly Lamb.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A pointing finger to none other shown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A secret whisper to none other known,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Bade <span class="smcap"><b>Arthur Howell</b></span> hasten on his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where a secluded country grave-yard lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few sad mourners stood beside a grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where "dust to dust" a solemn language gave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon from his lips burst forth the ardent strain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I know not who this coffin may contain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But my good Master, in whose power I came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now bids me clear from wrong an injured name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She who now rests within this narrow bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"By slander wounded bowed her sorrowing head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Accused of that, in which she had no part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She died in innocence—a broken heart!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—As from a stranger came these words, a thrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of secret, wondering joy, the mourners fill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she who died, told, as approached her end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That God a witness to her grave would send,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who to her innocence should boldly bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A clear, convincing testimony there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And He whose ways are wrapt in mystery still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blindfold his servant led to do his will!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Oft to the grave this servant of the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was sent to preach the everlasting Word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rouse the thoughtless from delusion's dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Memento mori was his frequent theme.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When Pestilence her raven wing outspread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When terror swept the living from the dead,—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> + <span class="i0">When love's own ties were severed in affright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And duty's call had lost its wonted might,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap"><b>Offley</b></span> and others, a devoted band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the march of terror took their stand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They nobly dared in that dark hour to make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themselves an offering for the people's sake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was accepted! Great the church's loss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She mourned a faithful champion of the cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathered at mid-day—soon the race was won,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long e'er the evening shades his labour done!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Two of the worthies linger of that day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap"><b>Letchworth</b></span> and <span class="smcap"><b>Wistar</b></span>—hastening fast away.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Shrewd, witty, eloquent,—with ample store<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that schools could give of classic lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sarcastic powers opposing views to chill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When such the purpose of his subtle will,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A learned lawyer, <span class="smcap"><b>Nicholas Waln</b></span> could sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A jury's feelings in his youthful day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But soon, like Paul, when the unseen One spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Humble he bowed and bore the Christian yoke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gamaliel's lessons ceasing to repeat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lay a learner at the Saviour's feet.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Simple of heart, and of a feeble frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeling unworthy even Christ to name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet raised by Him of living hopes to tell,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And show his power,—himself a miracle,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap"><b>James Simpson</b></span>, like his Lord, from things around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit subjects for important lessons found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cloud o'erspreading, or a bird on wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would to the theme in hand instruction bring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filled by his Master wonderously he shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His emptied vessel scarce could stand alone!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Slow as a traveller wends o'er miry ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose prudent care his onward course delays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So <span class="smcap"><b>Richard Jordan</b></span> preached; at first each word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came slowly forth, nor life nor feeling stirred;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But soon, the channel cleared, the rippling flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In freer volume swifter currents show;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bolder and higher then it gathers force,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mountain torrent rushing down its course;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So <span class="smcap"><b>Jordan</b></span> ministered in life's mid-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Boanerges thundering on his way!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap"><b>Bacons</b></span> and <span class="smcap"><b>Wilsons</b></span>,[<a href="#notec">3</a>] worthies not a few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touched by love's magnet, hither often drew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap"><b>Smith</b></span>, with his venerable locks of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sedately cautious the right path to know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Devoted ministers, alas! no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worthy elders who the ark once bore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—When these were gone,—their bodies to the sod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their spirits taken to their fixed abode,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> + <span class="i0">A cloud around our Israel's camp arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from our firesides started up our foes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a bold infidel his poison spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with his scorpions hungry children fed;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another race, part of the by-gone age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet of the present, then employed the stage.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">When boding mists had gathering force and form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap"><b>Ruth Richardson</b></span> was taken from the storm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True to her Master she was free to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet nature shrank from the last agony:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladly would she have left this scene of pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The promised kingdom of her Lord to gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But awful feelings shadowed forth the strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dread concomitant of parting life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gently her spirit from its house of clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was sent on wings of mercy on its way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When came the pale-faced messenger to free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes were holden that she did not see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No pain—no sorrow—e'en her evening prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joined with her morning hymn of glory there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She felt no agony of parting breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taken in kindness without tasting death!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Melodious singer of heart-thrilling songs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Zion's injuries and Israel's wrongs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose lonely harp still on the willow hung,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Till fresh-felt mercies every chord restrung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then touched to praise its tones in sweetness broke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in each heart responsive feelings woke!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Oh, I behold thee, as I last beheld,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When gospel love thy grateful bosom swelled,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When weeping listeners heard the tale of woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mental conflicts it was thine to know,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When as a flood the enemy came in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeping away the barriers against sin,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from a pit of horror burst thy moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illumined by no brightness from the throne,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sombre shadows compassed thee around,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When satan's legions pierced with many a wound,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the rank weeds were wrapp'd about thy head,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When boisterous billows over thee were spread,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then He who died and triumphed o'er the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arose in might thy struggling soul to save;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bade the waves sunder and temptations fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scattering clouds haste from the brightening sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun of righteousness with cheering ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shed the full radiance of perfected day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Then from thy lips poured forth a joyful song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thy Redeemer!—yea, it poured along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In most melodious energy of praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To God, the Saviour, he of ancient days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart and language rising with the theme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till praise gushed forth one living, glowing stream!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Then from thy lips the thrilling language fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Glory to Him who raised my soul from hell!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Baptized in tears was many a cheek that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As <span class="smcap"><b>Sarah Cresson</b></span> told her checquered way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'T was her last gospel labour here of love,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mercy soon gathered her to praise above.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Of polished manners and of graceful mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lovely in life, was <span class="smcap"><b>Mary Morton</b></span> seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each native talent sanctified by grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was kept, obedient, in its proper place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not quick to offer, cautious still to try,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Gideon did his fleece, both wet and dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like leaven working where no eye could view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her spirit wrestled for the heavenly dew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She dug for water in a weary soil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till bubbling life-springs recompensed her toil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—As gently passed the fleeting breath away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retortive memory brought her youthful day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one fond look back on the past she flung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While "Oh, my mother!" trembled on her tongue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the freed spirit passed—and beauteous lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rifled casket, lovely in decay!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Widows and orphans ye may mourn indeed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who now shall clothe you, who the hungry feed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes! show your garments, tattered ones, and say,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> + <span class="i0">These <span class="smcap"><b>Sansom</b></span> gave us in a wintry day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the bleak storm she clothed the shivering frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sickness pressed with healing cordials came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When age went tottering with no hand to save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She gave the crutch supporting to the grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No cold philosophy was her's, to dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Benthem's theory or Malthus's scheme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the heart prompted, the concurring hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obeyed, instinctively, each kind command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When streams of suffering ran beside her door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bitter waters lost their nauseous power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prophet's salt she in the current threw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft and sweet the changing waters grew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Careful her Master's bounty to bestow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A faithful stewardship of gifts to show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she might hear that language at the close,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To me ye did it, as ye did to those!"<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A pillar of the church, erect and strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swayed by no friendship to the church's wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwarped, unmoved, sound to the very core,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rendered firmer by the weight he bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An honest watchman the alarm to sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When foes were sowing tares within our ground,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or rootless plants luxuriously would shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spreading branches, and produce no fruit,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was <span class="smcap"><b>Evans</b></span>. Oft the archers' bows were bent,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> + <span class="i0">To turn the veteran from his firm intent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their malice moved not, and their threats were vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixed at his post determined to remain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when at last the final goal was won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death's message found him with his armour on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No oilless lamp to trim, no loins to gird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready to enter at the Bridegroom's word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where his loved <span class="smcap"><b>Hannah</b></span>, earlier called away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was his forerunner to the realms of day.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So too our <span class="smcap"><b>Sheppard</b></span>,[<a href="#noted">4</a>] when she heard the cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her wings expanding sought her home on high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One thought upon a faithful sufferer cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told her own hopes—then to her audit past.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Amid the terrors of that evil hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Infidelity put forth its power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though meek of manners and of gentle heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap"><b>Jane Bettle</b></span> played a Christian soldier's part.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though courteous, firm,—unwavering, though kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pupil of Christ, he disciplined her mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Secluded long from active service here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet bearing burdens in her proper sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In humble waiting she was faithful found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until her fetters were in love unbound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her youthful <span class="smcap"><b>Edward</b></span>, bud of promise rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was early called to bloom in regions fair;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Another cord, strong though unseen, to move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart to seek a resting place above.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap"><b>Allen</b></span>, when all around was clothed in night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passed from earth's darkness to eternal light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, what a blessed change to thee was given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sleep in Jesus and to wake in heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave thy worn vestments with their earthly stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spotless robe of righteousness to gain!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ye who my being gave,—ye too have flown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To join the ransomed round the eternal throne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—The venerable sire, as death drew near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the vale awful, but devoid of fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He whom he loved was near him in that hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death had no terrors and the grave no power.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thee, mother, rose a "brilliant path,"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee thy Saviour had no looks of wrath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, ye had owned Him long, and at the last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arm supported as ye Jordan passed!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus one by one, in quick succession, go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those who have laboured in the church below!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We dare not murmur as we kiss the rod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art our Helper, save thy church, O God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine is the cause, thy frowns we dare not shun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In earth and heaven alike, thy will be done!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> + <span class="i1">Tell me, my Old Arm Chair, when thou wert young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were Quaker parlours with gilt pictures hung?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did any Quaker to his image fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A household idol placed against the wall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, well might honest <span class="smcap"><b>Catharine</b></span> cry to pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Abomination!" as she turned aside.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—But times are altered; splendid mansions glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gilded mirrors <i>humble Quakers</i> show.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Turkey carpets are their parlours spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While silken curtains hang about their bed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What contradiction!—grave the dame and sire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gorgeous their dwelling,—simple their attire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their children moulding to the place they dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In London fashions, Paris manners, swell,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While parents scarcely wish to set them free—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what they won't restrain they love to see.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Are there no worthies now to fill the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those, victorious, who have run their race?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are we deserted?—has all merit flown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And must the church in helpless anguish moan?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, no! the grace that made them what they were,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A living remnant in due measure share;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And haply they on whom their mantles fit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May where the ancients sat, in judgment sit.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Faith, give me power to see a brighter day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all these "letting things" shall pass away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the convulsion which has now begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall pause in silence, all its purpose done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the oppressors of the seed, shall wear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mask no longer, all their acts laid bare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When chaff and cheat shall to the wind be doomed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dross and stubble be by fire consumed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to the world the worldly part is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the redeemed shall closer walk with Heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to our Zion shall the weary come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like "doves to windows," pressing to their home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, haste the day, when through his power divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father's light around his church shall shine!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Many there are whose prayers arise for this;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose greatest joy would be in Zion's bliss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose morning breathing, and whose evening prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that the Lord would place his glory there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—What though a worldly spirit has crept in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fain the kingdom through new ways would win,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scorning the narrow path our fathers trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And circling round would pass the cross and rod—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet they who look from Pisgah's height can see,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Such by-paths lead away from Calvary,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they who seek in empty forms for bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will grasp at shadows and the substance miss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—No, no!—as ancient <span class="smcap"><b>Pennock</b></span>[<a href="#notee">5</a>] clearly saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still with this people shall abide the law;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shall the testimony here be found,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still sons and daughters to the altar bound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lord himself his attributes shall take;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again shall order out of chaos break;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall the church in rapturous numbers sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shout victorious as she owns her King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While those who seek to draw her from the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themselves shall lose in errors paths astray!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<h2>NOTES.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap"><a name="notea" id="notea"></a>Note</span> 1. Sarah Harrison was aunt to Jane Snowdon. +When on a religious visit in Great Britain, she +felt her mind engaged to speak to George III. When +she commenced addressing him, he took off his hat, +and remained uncovered during her communication. +She died in Philadelphia, the 29th of Twelfth month, +1812, aged 76; a minister 55 years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap"><a name="noteb" id="noteb"></a>Note</span> 2. Samuel Emlen, felt concerned often to +look up the sick, weak and halt of the flock; and for +this purpose, in the latter part of his life, he kept a +one horse chair, in which he rode about "doing good:" +in allusion to which practice, he sometimes said, he +"earned his bread by jobbing." He died the 30th of +Twelfth month, 1799, aged 75.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap"><a name="notec" id="notec"></a>Note</span> 3. David Bacon and descendants.—William +Wilson, an elder of Philadelphia Monthly Meeting.—Sarah +Proctor Wilson, a minister of the Southern +District Monthly Meeting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap"><a name="noted" id="noted"></a>Note</span> 4. Catharine Sheppard, an elder of the +Northern District Monthly Meeting, died the 15th +of Twelfth month, 1842, aged 80 years. The following +lines appeared a few days after in one of the +daily papers, on the occasion of her death.</p> + +<div class="block pl10"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> + <span class="i1">Sleep, mother, sleep, for thy work is now done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy course is accomplished, the victory won!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubts and fears can no longer arise in thy path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor tempest-cloud hover with threatening wrath.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sleep, mother, sleep! our protector and guide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though we fain would have turned all Death's arrows aside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though we clung to thee fondly, and watched every breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy spirit unnoticed departed with Death.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, cruel destroyer!—But cease ye, and hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sounds of sweet melody break on the ear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis the voice of rejoicing, oh, listen the sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That a prisoner of hope from the earth is unbound!<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There!—hearken once more to the full-swelling strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The words of rejoicing we even may name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They say, "Come up here, see the bride of the Lamb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stands by the throne of the mighty I AM!"<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come home, mother, come!"—Ah, how vain is that cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The home of the righteous is fixed in the sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's treasures wax old, its attractions all wither,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cry of the ransomed is, "Come ye up hither!"<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p><span class="smcap"><a name="notee" id="notee"></a>Note</span> 5. Caleb Pennock, upwards of 90 years of +age, recently addressed the young men of his Monthly +Meeting in a very remarkable manner, expressing +his belief that the doctrines of this Society would not +be suffered to fall.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Arm Chair, by unknown + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARM CHAIR *** + +***** This file should be named 33073-h.htm or 33073-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/0/7/33073/ + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Larry B. 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