ELLA CALDWELL. The poems of Miss Caldwell have been mostly contributions to the Louisville (Ky.) Democrat, and have been extensively copied by the newspapers throughout the coun- try. Her nom de plume, " Leila," has become familiar as household words. Ella Caldwell was bom in the city of Louisville, Kentucky, on the sixteenth of April, 1842. Her father, James G. Caldwell, shortly afterward removed to Jeffersonville, Indiana, where he is a merchant. Fortunately the circumstances of Miss Caldwell's parents enabled them to give their daughter an education at home, and culture and accomphshments upon a broad and firm basis. She resides at home, surrounded by affectionate relations, an admiring and appreciative circle of select friends, and all that would seem to render hers the life of the poet. Miss Caldwell's poems are of the school of the affections, but there is a growing strength and higher purpose per- ceptible in her later efforts, though all are marked by a lingering sweetness of rhythm, a fine poetic fancy, not more surprising than delightful to find in the writings of one so young. Her poetry frequently reaches the tenderest pathos, and sometimes rises to a " fine frenzy," but is always sweetly rhythmical. JUDGE NOT. Judge not, judge not ! Ye may not know The strength of passion's power ; Remember that an angel fell In Eden's sinless bower; And still the tempter's syren voice, In accents soft and sweet. Might lure a soul as pure as light To worship at his feet. Judge not, judge not ! The erring heart. Though dim'd and stained by sin — Though lost to every good without — Has God's pure light within. Judge not, judge not ! untempted one ; Stand not aloof, apart — Remember that God's image lives In every human heart ! Judge not, judge not! Although these sins May be as dark as night. They may have bravely warred, yet fell A victim in the fight. Judge not ! The marshaled hosts of sin Are fierce, and dark, and bold ; And yet full many a gentle lamb Has wandered to their fold. Judge not, judge not ! or coldly pass A fallen brother by ; A smile from virtue would be hke A beacon light on high. Judge not, judge not! Our barks are all Upon the same sea cast ; Some sink amid the angry waves, Some reach the shore at last ! (687)
