Massachusetts spy and Worcester advertiser. [volume] ([Worcester, Mass.]) 1823-1825, 1823-09-10
From the New Monthly Magazine.

LHefe IS something very sad IN the
death of friends. We seem 10 provide
for our own mortality, and make up our
minds to die. We are warned by
sickness, fever and ague, and hundred
dull infrmities 3 but when our friends
pass away, we lament them as though
we had considered them immortal
So lis perilous trust when man
ties his hope 20 so frail thing as wo-
man. They are SO gentle, so affection
ate, so true in sorrow, SO untired and
untiring but the leaf withers not soon
er, the tropic lights fade not more alb
ruptly into darkness. They die and are
taken from us, and we weep and our
friends tell US that It's not wise to grieve.
for all that which is mortal perisheth.-
They do not know that
We grievc the more, because we grieve in
vain.'
If our grief could bring back the dead,
it would be stormy and loud I've should
disturb the sunny quiet of day-we
should startle the dull night from her
repose. But our hearts would not grieve
as they grieve now, when hope is dead
within us. X y
:" remember, even as a grey-headed
man remembers, clearly and more dis
tinctly than the things of yesterday, tina,
which happened long ago. remember,
when | was about four years Of age, how
! learned to spell, and was sent daily il
-the servants hand 10 little day school,
10 fight my way, amidst a score of ur-
chlns) through the perils Of the alpha
bet. had no ambition then, no hatred,
no uncharitableness. | had no organs
for such things. Well, when my fifth
year was running into my sixth year, /
was busted with parallels and scripture
history, (the only food which nourished
my infant mind) ! was, much noticed
by young persons female. was at
that time living with an old relation in
H---shire, and still preserve the re-
collection of Miss Rs tender condescen-
sion towards me. She was pretty deli
cate girl, and very amiable and be-
came Eyes, it is true, for remember
the strong feelings Of the time enamored
of her. My love had the fire of pas.
sion, but not the clay which drags il
downwards; it partook Of the innocence
Of my years while it etherislized me-
Whether it was the divinity of beauty
that stung me, or rather that lifted me
4 above the darkness aud immalurity OF
childhood know not; but my feelings
were any thing but childish. BY some
strong intuition, | felt that there was
a difference Il knew not what) that
called forth an extraordinary and impet.
uous regard.
"She was the first object, (saye nv
mother) that ever attached myself to-
had better have loved hower-a
, weed. For when knew her she had
the seeds Of death within her. Con.
sumption had caught her; his sickly
hands were upon her, like the canker or
the rose, and she drew out a perilou.
unearthly bloom. The hues and vigoul
of life were flushing too quickly through
her cheek-(yet how pale she was
times -she wasted month in an hour
a year in mouth and at last died il
the stormy autumn time, when the
! breath of summer had left her.
"The last time ever saw her, was
as we'll as can recollect, in October, OF
: late in September. Twas told that Mis-,
r. was i'll, was very ill, and that per.
r haps might not see her again. DEATH
: ! could not of course comprehend bu
understood perfectly what was a per
} petnal absence, from my pretty friend
Whether | wept or raved, or how il
r was, do not know but was taken IL
visit her. 1t was cold day, and the ret
and brown leaves were plentiful on the
) trees ; and it was in the afternoon when
we arrived at the old-fashioned coun.
try house, which stood at some distance
! from the high-road. The sun was near
his setting; but the whole Of the wide
; west was Illuminated, and threw Grim.
son and scarlet colours on the windows.
over which hung cloud of vine stalks
and changing leaves that dropped by
= scores on every summons of the blast
r There she sat in parlOur full Of flow