Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, June 05, 1844, Image 1

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!,011.5e Universalist QuatterlY Review.) . -
NOCUIDBII—.I Tribite to : one Di
' parted.*
lor US. c sAvitin.-
, t the blue Susquehanna's streamL—
;lrss poet's morning dream—
ir from the city's busy toil,
ceoless hum and weary coil; •
, ere the chill breeze of autumn brings
. s •ingl?riors on its wings, . 1
ridusky groves and fading flowers
• x mourning o'er.departed
ere let me pause; awhile,, and wake. -
eoaglor the Departed's sake!
• - .
, minstrel, loving and beloved !
1;1 genes where eret•thy footsteps roved, •
h ere thy young voice in laughter rung,
;hose charms so oft thy musettath sung—
: ere by thine own fair river's shore,
• h a ll e ,` c e,l by thy lips of yore,
ly sorrowing heart bath come, to-day,
• tribute to thy.vf . orth to pay !
;a art departed ! yet, ineseeme,*
ray wavelet's transient gleams,
agel•eye, in all its light
iphteauty, meets my sight !
ly melting accents still, -
motes all sround'me thrill;
not a breeze that murmurs by,'
are theecho of thy sigh ;
not a flower that- round me springs,
my saddened spirit, brings
iught that wakes thy memory',
ieetly mournful dream of ithee !
it is, to think thatithou,
tidal once; 'so silent now,
;ions of my voice should be,
now the teals I shed for thee !
it so ? 'Do spirits ne'er
blest shores of Eden, bear
ag-to behold again .
wed ones that s on earth remain 1
4idear scenes they prized of yore .
rer to win theta back once more,
rer o'er each long-toyed spot
e'en in heaven, is . not . forgot l l
so, did thou canst hear
eau's low pleadings, p, appear!
spirit, from thy starry home,
ind.rne with thy soft eyes come !
. not my Foul will start with fear
fee! thy holy presence near;
•to think the loved*.and dead, .
it, alt around me triad !
.if too much for mortal eye,
Thy sweet and Hunt face to see,
of me some token thou art nigh,
)13 all my soul: shall kneel to thee?
but know the'shadowing •
seraphic wing ,
me 5110 andl Ebel! be,
it, more allied to thee !
on me—angel dear and blest,
own pureness fills my breast,.
lings MMyl;art are given.
lims-of earth than heaven !
totthy presence will not, be ;
vain revealing unto me.! ; •
mains glow pme beneath the stir,
being purely nbone upon,
'mans like nine, thine angel eye
in every soil would :punfy
conaest! .1 0, 'twas not in vain
ayed that we might meet again!
°I 6 3' spirit hovering nigh—
;yea unconscious seek the ski !
Ivenly osior,imeh as ne'er
ud till now, perfumes:the air; _
, subdued, unearthly light
Ily beaming on MY sight !
• with me! sweet-souled angel, now ,
iss is burning on my brow ! ,
uch through all my being thrills,
ny nerve with rapture fills!
'ug of a seraph's flame. - •
quivers through my frime--'
! forbesii it is too much,
*math thy thrilling touch!
the vision is'no more; •
is mine unknown bbfore !
pervades pyboreast,
lotto be.etpreised I •
ly distant borne, I bear _ • .
that worldlinge may not:share—
, that, to Coy - being's end, - I
nfjOy and grief will blend !
Adieu! A littieep2ce.
11 meet thee WO to focal
is a.Scott.
8 * that Song . once Der.
soag w once dear to me t
airs I loved to hear '
stsile•l,used to see '. • •
came;l more bright when near.
when b7thy shie,
%tut gays their gladness pie,
iuld then deiide . :
note must brave.
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Ambigon's Vic,tini,
Mr the New England' Physician.
31113..L1iCY X. !WELLS.
All that the majesty of mind C.Ommands--
All that the heariof 'man insatiate.ciaves,
Is found in Hope's bright page; • ": '
Atid yet t a e mighty majesty of rpitl,
Ambition, Fame, are mixed with earthlyleaven.
" A most incongruous title" methinks
some afrogant favorite of fortune ex
claims, .with a scornful .curl of the lip.
"A physician, engaged each day in
the performance of his quiet duties, can
surely be little exposed to , the allure
meuts of ambition.", And is itindeed
so? Is there nothing in the pursuits of
Medical science 'to rouse Me energies
of the -noblest minds ?. - Surely it is
something to-explore the hidden riches
of nature, and the researches of science
and bend theni all to the, benefieent aim
of alleviating humanenfferinge—some.
thing to clear the clouds Hof gloomy de.
spondency frcim a giftedlmind, prostra
tedto the dust from sympathy with-a
diseased body—something-to arrest the
fleeting spirit when just ready to de
part from its earthly tenement, and give
the loved one to the embrace of friends
Ito receive the,blessing of those who
were ready to perish, and to cause "the
widow's heart to, sing, for joy" when
the daughter who was the sunbeam -of
her home, or the son who was the'stay
and staff of her declining years, is 're
stored to ,her after hope had its last
lingering look, and all but the skilful,
tintiring physician had abandoned the
sufferer in , utter despair. So thought
Edward .Ralston as he folded in his
arms' his young sister who had just
been rescued from death by the perse
vering slut of heemedical attendant.—
Edward was a tall, awkward looking
boy of fifteen. He was the youngest
'of four brothers, who had all, except
himself, left the' paternal home to seek
their fortunes in the far west. His fa
there, a small farmer. in Connecticut,
had set his heart upon this son as the
one who shouldguide his tottering steps
down the hill of life. For seine years
every tree he had ,planted or : pruned,
had been for his fav6te boy. The
neat stone walls with which his farm
was enclosed, had been built for
and as he looked around on the fruits
of his industry be would say to himself,
these things will remind Ned of me
when my gray head is laid in the grave.
Hitherto Edward had silently emplac
ed in his destination.. The. capacities
of his soul were yet unawakened ; and
se- -
cluded as he was from the world, he,
hardly suspected th ere could be a nobler
occupation than digging the earth. for' a
subsistence, yet he was thoughtfe, and
,observing of the operations of nature ':to
a degree, which exposed , him. often to
the ridicule of his rough and boisterous
school-mates. Where is Ned ? would
be the inquirpon the play ground; for
the kindfien and gentleness of his na
ture made him . a
, universal favorite.
" Oh," said a biawny, red-headed fel
low, the last lime I saw him , he was
counting the colors oh a butterfly's
wing, -and bottling up a handful of
bright looking bugs that he had been
more than an hour collecting in the gar
den—and he tried to make me believe
they were beautiful, fursooth, die sim
pleton I. I believe he expects to get a
living by birds and butterflies, andints
of curious colored stone; and strange
outlandish herbs and, flowers; for 'I
heard his oldfather 'fretting about his
filling the kitchen garden full of them.".
A loud ' laugh' and clapping 'Of hands,
from the merry group, bore testimony
to the truth of their plaY-fellowli por
traiture. .
Such had been the pursuits of ,Ed
ward's leisure hours hitherto. His fa-,
titer sometimei scolded and sometimes
ridiculed' him ;: but as he was ,obedtent
and indention he generally' suffered
him to pursie his own course iii quiet
ness. But the time had .now come
which was to give coloring to his fu
ture destiny; and when he said-to him
self, 6.0 . 1.wi1l be physician," he fixed
hits eye.upon the star
,which :was .to
guide his' course through_ life. The
"capacities' and ispiretions• of hia soul
whichted - been a sealed fountain how
burst forth, endtthe streamt awed Spark. ,
lins on, in equal parity:and increasing
bnghtness, to the , end of his short but
brilliant career. From this moment the
. employment of the... farm - ' beiame a gal
ling slavery.. He procured, know ; not
how, sonic,
,eititple,elementarr works
on natural philosophy, - and 'the it:Ve
ntre of the human fraine, end over These
he pored dar„andol - ght. He`gocin be.
gan'to make eirierinients to the votes.'
Bien he had - chosen. Not i brulied
Regardless' of benundatioa, trois any. QUIT/en—Girt. Nina,
toowkmko mummzquk
foot Or , wounded finger, could he bound
up Without his help--the lameold hem ,
who' was a faithful seriant - of the 'fami
ly! for fifteen years, was subjected to
many a surgical operation by the young
enthusiast, in the 011 belief : that he could
make him young again; . and , the gray unlucky sheep,` who had
each a broken kg, afforded fine Oppor
tunities for the' display of hilt neisvpow
era. expenments were con- -
fined to such cases, his father endured
his Vagaries 'with the patience of a mar
tyr ; though he had sometimes muttered
betw,een his teeth that he believed Ned
was going crazy. But unluckily an
epidemic- among, the sheep' gave the
young devotee an opening for his skftl
in the Materia Medica. Sii of his pa
tients soon rested from their Cares and
sorrows, 'and the patients of his uplift
enduring, father was buried in the same
grave with! them. There Ned," 'he
exclaimed • in , wrath as they witnessed
the dying struggle of the seventh, *► take
your books and be a doctor, and then
if men are fools enough to take yo r tir
drogs, the sin is their own; but. fot
these poor innocent dumb-beasts, I will
not let them suffer for your learning."
Ned's pale face grew yet paler, and
his. full black eyes.'lcioked as if 'they
would start from their sockets at this
mortifying rebuff,. But he stole away
to his little chamber,-and soon lost the
memory of hisdifeat in speculation on
the cause why prescriptions so highly
recommended for men should-not prove
equally salutary for sheep. In the
evening.he seated himself as usual ,by,
the bright kitchen fire 'His Mother
whose beamed the very spirit, of kind
ness, pursued her knitting quietly;
though Ned 'thought she , now and then
cast an unusually sorrowful glance To
ward him. His, fair young sister, whose
delicate frame and lovely, intelligent
countenance, suited ill with the homely,
scene, was nestled close by her side,'
arranging with the taste of a painteithe
various colitis of her ..patch' work bed-i
quilt," and often looking from her work
to cast glances of deep tendernesseronnd
on the only beings she had yet learned
to love. His father, with spectacles
on his nose, was, seatedat a httle 'round
table, with the Bible, a volume of Foxs'
Book of Martyrs, a Treatise on Free
dom of the Will, andthe last newspaper
before him. Each was
_tried in tent,
and thrown aside with an expression of
impatience, till at last with a xeverend
air, he opened that holy book, which
had been his guide as he toiled up the
biltof life, and whose hopes and pro
mises were hie solace now that he was
descending' the vale of years. For
some moments he seemed to be reading.
but perhaps an acute observer would
have seen that his thoughts were far
away, even from the sacred pages. At
length, closing the book, he pushed
,back his spectacles, and said in a hoarse
voice, which,showed that' he was strug
gling, to subdue strong emotion.
"Ned, my. boy, I believe your heart,
is not here in your old father's home,
and our little farm, as ;it used to be." ,
Ned tried to answer, but his tongue
Wall palsied, and refused io move..
Well my boy, I see how it is; you
want to be pushing your way upwards
in the world. God knows I have spent
many aAveary day and night for my
boys, and I hoped for one 'of you. to
watch over over me and your old moth
dr.-when are;children again. But I
never yet tied the hand of ms boys.—
IC you.want to try your. skill With the
rest in swimMipgon the curtent.of life;
why- then go. 'Tie little your Mother
and I condo rot you: . but that little you
ehall have, and our blessing too." , '
He paused, .and a' slight twitching
around.the mouth
_of the sterdeaeming,
bin kind - hearted old man, alone told
whava struggle it cost him to give up
the'. cherished hopes of years.' The
mothey silently wiped a 'tear from, her
eyes mid Ned' afteraitany, nttempts. to
speak, 'finally
__articulated '.Father.
yOu shall never - be '-eiliattied -of me,'?
and then retreated to hit own room to
give vent to.- his full, heart. ~ A nd now.
the way was cleared before hina r and he
proudlyiiirew back-1 the.• black, hair,
which hung in - massee,Over his bread
forehead, and said, I twill be'soinething.
or nothinp4 .will" rise in the world,
or-4 will -notfive to, ,botaunted with ,
tnyfall- 2..
He soon Piacea..himself - ( tinder the
care of the -parish' titiniater,la'.man of
polished mind, _ - though. unpretending,
manners, Who yet Cherished .alove..for.
jiteratiire And classic. lore.' ;14. posses
sed a Well fuinishid libtary, 'to , Vadat'
the young scholar had free see r
ess: add'
here. while: the' toble.and- the learned
of ootio=-400,10 bef o re hie mind's
eyedinjorated the; t o p siandard
littelteOttiat aintitintareici#7,.
ZWE I V9 a : Z.O9 =ME ga 06641
. .
heaver aperward prmvued with'unaba
oir action. 'Here. too, 'while_ poring
'over the s ongs of the olden bards, was
awakened -that 'deep enthusiastic love 'of
the beamiful,•and-that intense thirst for
perfectionin hiiimrsuits, which is ever
the concomitani of high genius. When
histhoughts turned aside from ale one
purpose to which hi's highest energies
were - devoted,: he' luxuriated the
dreams of loveliness such as exist only
in the fancy Of the-poet. Bin all ,these
imaginings were untied in.& recesses
of • his own' boioin, no kindred spirit
had awakened the syrnOattries of !US
soul; IliS books were his , World, and
he shrunk with the instinctive delicacy
of an imaginative and gifted i mind from
all communion with the uncongenial be
ings by Whom he was. `surrouoded - H
The preparatory co ll ege studies were
mastered with a rapidity, which aston
ished his aged - teacher, and drew from
him many a fond prediction of.futere
eminence. 'Alas! he knew not that he
was thus fanning the flarne,which w as
to consume hint. ' >'= I - ,
His , college life wrought , a wonderf ul
change in the silentrechise. .11e found
there those I who •could understand
arid sympathize 'with him; and from
the*shy; awkWard boy ',he .became an
intelligent, noble looking' young man.
Yet there was even then a cire-wOrn
look, which to a practised-eye, told of
midnight vigils by the pale lighi.—of
hours stolen from needful, slumber 'to
explore the exhaustless mines, of intel;
lectual wealth, which were then-open
ed to his enraptured . gaze. The day
when he left his Alma 'Mater 'was a .
proud day for him. He left with the
highest honors ; and his father . and
-young -sisters 'were there to hear the
rapturoui plaudits which' his perfor
mance called forth. The old _clergy
man, who was his earliest teaclier,.was
there, and the applause of others was
ushered when the young student saw
his face light 4 kith an exulting Smile,
and then behold hint brnsh the unbidden
tear from his eye. " Were you satisfi
ed with me." he whispered .to the de
lighted -old man, 'as they dispersed
among the crowd. " Yes, I was proud
of you ; hut remember' my boy, that
earthly honois will not purchase a seat
in heaven. Don't. make fame your
idol, and worship it, for you will find
it but a faithless friend upon a death
bed." " I know it well my dear sir.".
he replied—"l will remember your ad
vice, and seek -a heavenly treasure—
but now-1. must press - forward-1
cannot pause now to think of eternity.
When lam established in my profes
sion I shall lie satisfied, and then I;
will follow your. kind counsel." Oh
how many . a young heart has thus si-,
tented the whispers of conscience, and
lulled their souls asleep with the vain
hope that the time would
they should be satisfied with wealth. or
fame, or pleasure. and be - ready to turn
their thong is toward heaven. Did
they but kn wthat it'is at,Dohesda's
fountain al ne thit the heart can find
rest, or -the fevered longings of the
deathlesi tuind Can be allayed. they ,
Would not turn scornfully and ungrate
fully, from the voice of heavenly com
passion u' , hicti says, If any man thirst,
let him come to me'and drink.
L 1
• •
The traveler who is passing through arrested in his course' by
the . beautiN-situatioe of a little village,
on a high swell of land , two miles from
the Connecticut. _ In the aspect of the
hamlevitself T-thera id floating remarka
ble. - A few neat, 'quiet looking dwel
lings' are dispersed 'around a - verdant
square.;. while the ample chureh, which
opens its doers as a refuge - appointed
by heaven to point, the weary end the
broken hearteti to th'at home whereleor
riivz and sighing 'shall flee away Cenci
the air of quiet -and 'repose which , hang
as,a broad mantle over the - . scene;' , tell
that there, if iny *here
,on earth, every
warring paision in ihe breast Of, man
'shoufd be hushed.' It was there' that
yoeng Ralston: • fixed"' his resitlence,
among a people,aithre indeed " in. their
manneni, but posses ed of sufficient in
telliinnce to estimate and feel - •
'.The power of thoog4t, thositagig. ofihe
They poSsessed, tun, thatreftnement
and, delicacy, of feeling'; Which. results
(nn Moral cultute.. On the... Sabbath:
every l - Pook.`:ind 'hill; int' valley
nut:its inhabitand.'ind all, from the Oar
. petriarch down to : the -uncon
scions; ant.. assembled ;
of prayer. The purifying.. end snften ,
ing influence of public worship were
nottast l 46o* that 11 .iligOislidaled
- Theiriiligiobiteacher-was a
Min of more thinvidintiry7intellectual
/owl*. ''' ,l36 .l7.4slP4eo,4 , ApAdev. 4 oted.
Iv ploini,..and possessed diet, sin&lensask
of mind and energy of purpose•whieh
-gives,,lnnlimited',ay : fay :over , the' linds
of others: :His people hail,grown up
under his teaching—they -,loved -.end
venerated him as a father: knewliim
well, for that quiet".,hainlet was the re
sidence of my maternal; relatives. Of--
tee inmy'childhood and earlyt, youth
did I l ' isten to his nistruptiOns, and:the
tonerrOf mingled kindness and severity
with which he would reprove the erring
and recall themandering to the path of
duty, yet ring jump ear. kreniember,
too, the intelligence. the acute discrimi
nating mind,, and 'the delicacy of per
ception .which gleam out like
sunbeamii thrOugh a mist, from' beneath
the, antique garb and the.unpolished ex.;
tenor of many of his parishioners.
Perheps the scenery by. , which they
were' surrounded waq•not without its
influence upon their minds and hearts.
They who habitually look upon na
ture in her loveliness and .grandeur,
especially if they have been taught to
see in the wonders of creation the hand
of unerring wisdom united with untir
ing love, and infinite power, can hardly
heconie enslaved by the base and de
,gradfog passions of our nature, The
Connecticut flowed beneath them bor
dered by meadows Which rivalled in
beauty and fertility the vale of Tempe ;
the'urtain of mist which lung over it
in the morning, was. festooned in tee,
thousand fantastic shapes along the
sidee of the richly wooded hills, now
hiding. now revealing to view,-some
deep glen or some quiet cottagescene,
and lighted up by"the rising sun, mike
ted-the gorgeous hues of the rainbow ;
while far away into the' distance the
White Mountains, rising'high toward
heaven„carried the thoughts , to Him,
who dwelleth in light unapproachable,.
Here young Ralston commenced his
professional career. There was no ri
val to obetruct his Path,for his superior
pri'Wers arid profound knowledge in his
profession,'placed.him at once far abOve
all Competitors in this vicinity. For a
time his progress was:.gradual,: and
while needful slumber was allowed, and
thejSabbath could be to him a day of
rest, he bore up against: the anxiety
which his sensitive mind end'nred when
he felt the lives ef- others entrusted to
hiscare. He was constant in the house
of Lprayer, and! there the overtasked
-brow, turned to Yet higher and nobler
themes, could rest from the depressing
and exhausting oils of the week. Oh,
the Sabbath is indeed one of Heaven's
best gifts to man ; 'not less necessary is
itsholy rest to i the cultivated intellect
hd the polished mind, than to hiin who
is his bread is the sweat of his brow.
Then in the house of worship in the
presence of the great and benificent Pa
rent of all, the petty rivalries of literary
strife are forgotton, the aspirations of
ambition are hushed, and the soul feels
the nothingness of earth-born cares and
hopes when placed in competition with
the interests of eternity.
°But soon with success caine an in
crease of labor and anxiety—labors
-mere exhausting,- anxieties more de
pressing, because the best feelings of
his heart. as 'well as the energies of his
mind were all enlisted in the profeseion
he had chosen:l And , now._fame • began'
tO breathe ita seductive mu sic in his ear..
Not in the coarse ' notes-of flattery from
which• a delicate, minct thinks instinc
tiVely ; brit Weenie
" Like the 'tremor on the wind • ,
Which none,may stay or biad".-4
in - the half muttered God blesit sou"
of the mother who clasped again
bOsom her little One, that seemed
one . raised frotu 'the dead—in tl
speetful took And kindly words
,uncultivated tiller of- the.soit, -a heniage
whose sincerity could not,be questioned
4,in:the eloquent though brief acitnewl- '
edgementa Of-the richly epOot‘ed. - anct•
pOlished , mind from which had" lifted
the pall desliondencyand gloom.: cast
p:vcr.the soul by a diseased'-bUtl!i;:. and
in the:soft . theugh:ferient, tones of tyo l ,
.man'it' : . gratin - 1(1ft sounded sweet
in' his ears .asihity l geritle'sisteeti inice„
Thus ~ Ifire4- o rtwardhtit-
. paused; not -irr .
his.eareeru *Ong= ; on - --and;reaehing
forward;to yet highee,dipii p cApo.
•outeenseionanesu:_ihat hp needed rest:
His ititifeistenal: . .eatiefi'atutautiei at);
sorbedY hie.; torliele'.:'seul: - '" He.: - forrited
ItonO•tifthose kind.andgentle tien.irh
•by;dividing-.;t4t thoUghts:l::andawaken;.,
ug AT.'3,treilo49.-I,etutt .
ones .
foridlyiroui4filitrk aboard
!fit rfidigo: . u*kh*lp** l lw,hentSt
1 '#itittrrelaxation , were in uspgrer. books.
were 4iir`cf4lti*Sbiareq,:;
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wll as salting hone,s of the:lthriatian.
Winrstrangers- to. his heari:,.. tle,drank
or ty- of-earth's troubled fountains,' and
though` he had not fetfonndtheirtall
and bitterneaS, for,life s asp still: spark
led" fOr him; bebut,to thirst: again
and again. -Sonia years, thus passed
away in unremitting labon'ort his part,
rewarded by-unrivalled fame ividun his
own circle, and it Was -,not ar narrow
!`At this period a young man of brif
lienj, talents mill fascinating manners * ,
offered. his services es physician in the ,
vicinity of Ralstnn and• soon after,
a severe and wide"spreading epidemic
called for renewed exertions, while at
the same time, it awakened fears that
tiie more'showy,rivel would have. it in
his power to
_supplant him.: He now
knew no repose either body, or. mind,
The day was spent in administering 'to ,
the sick—thinight in Making ptescrip.
dons, and consulting his 'books.~ He
became . enneiated* and looked Pale and
care-worn,' His step once, firm and
vigorous waeriotv at times alternately
hurried, oifeeble and unsteady ; and
some,- more observant than others, no
ticed that be often.. pressed Ms band
upon ,his brow, as if thought,rid reef+
lectien cost him a painful effort.", These
appearances, were, however, only
Momentary." On , the Contraiy; there
was never before a time when_his ef
forts of Success , were
-so brilliant; He
seemed findeed like a being ell souVall
spirit. 'There was a dazzling bright=
ness in his 'eye, a quickness and vivid
ness in his perceptions, which inspired
both admiration and awe., After a time,
ta shadow of unutterable gloom would
Ipase for a moment over his cob ntenance,
and he began to whisper to the , very
few friends whom he trusted, of strange
' fantasies ; he hinted of plots - formed
against him and wild and groundless
suspicionit of his younger rival haunted
.his imagination. Hie friends knetv not
whit fo'reet, liutlistened in silent won.
der. At length, after a day of intenee
exertion, he returned homo et- a late
hour to his lodgings, and entering with
a pale and haggard look, sunk apparent
ly exhausted in a' chair. .! There * he
has &milt at last," he muttered in a low
tone, I have received. a violent blow
upon the top of my head which knock
ed me oIT nay horse. How long I lay
insensible 1 know _not—Oh ! thew is
such' a weight. here," he whispered
faintly, putting his hand to his head.
His kind hearted hostess administer.
ed such simple remedies . SS her very
limited knowledge could supply; hut
he seemed rapidly decaying. An , inci
dent, trifling in itself, first gave, his
friends to fear that the 'spirit.whieh had
been like a powerful and, sweet toned
harp, vibrating at the': slightest touch,
was now hopelessly unstrung and shat.
tered. It was a lovely evening in June,
Supported on the arm of his hostess'
soh a young man whose life he 'had:
saved, and in whom be felt a' deep'
wrest, he was walking , in - the garden
and enjoying the balmy freshness of the
evening air. :TIW hour and the Beene
softened his h / eart, and removed • for a
time the guarfhe habitually placed Over
the expression of his feelings: He
spoke of his early,hoMe—of his fath
ers' worth, ofbis mother's kindness, in
',ones nideep - emotion ; and when he
named his sister, and dwelt on her deep
tenderness and love for him Edit ,voice
faltered. He then alluded to •his own
history—to his brilliant iniccesti;—to
the fame he bed acquired—Aut, he con
J.. I have been pursuing a - shadow.—
there has been - no rest, no quiet:at my
heart,' If I could but know . that peace
which, beamed in my beloved-mothCi's
face,when shC returned to , us from her
sacred hour of secret communion , with
her God, how:gladly would 114 down
'all—all - I have been toiling and strug
gling for. years to obtain. 1 am. hie That
child." he continued, pointlacria a lit.
tle girl who was forming a lioquet of
flowers,. ,, see, she Jost grasped a—a"
—he paused, and pressed his hand up
on his brow- 4 4;0h, I Cannot remember:
the name—What is that flower whichis
surrounded with ti - Oros 3"
= " A Bose V inquired his eoMpanion.
- • 'r9se ; she has just
grasped a Seautiful rose, but the leaves't.,
havnall fallen ather - hand: But hois
strange I c,9uldimt remember .name
familiar to my memery. . ,
The truth he,continued in' a tone
Af:tteep and Melancholy foreboding. "II
am not; I Shall never sgein be what
_hive been:' t am prostrated.'. ,
At times I little, of it.r.suppose
,such-timesfift Wy mind' reriies, so that '!
ffeef .eitent,of , ieafirtess and
- deekir,,-eiy - tegeish'. is vich Nbat
is' - f• " •
!1 [CONTIA7O - it+ ' ON
Ina Tito