Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1828-10-04
ItaySSELEANX.
TIE TWO FATHERS.

| ~
IN remote rooms, silent, or now and then
uttcring few words, from winch all the
tonesNi hope had faded away, and that
struck their hearts al intervals, like the
very toll OF the passing bell. In one
apartment there was a perfect hush, and
no more motion than on a frozen sea.
Therein lay, OH her death bed, but still
breathing, as sweet child as ever fold
ed hands before God-over her counte-
nance, white as the shroud like sheet,
her parents had long been hanging, and
dropping their last kisses on tho closed
unconscious cyes-hc whose skill had
been in vain bestowed on the sufferer
night and day, stood al the foot of the
couch, with solemn face overspread
with that profound pity which mcltelh
not in tears--and the holy man who had
continued 10 read TO her the words OF
him who died TO save sinners, even alter
her speech was gone, and her resigna-
ton was seen only in few fast vanish
ing smiles, now bowed down his silver
hairs in the gloom, and at the very mo-
ment Of her souls departure 10 Heaven,
remained IN the. posture OF reyei en,lal
prayer.
The change from life to death, gra-
dual as ii may have been in its progress,
smitos the loving heart that behoids it
with pang Us sudden as if there mad
been no previous despair. There had
been a FAINT, irregular breath for the pa
rents To listen to--there had been mo-
,nn Of the bosom for them to gaze on
a quivcring ci the cyC-lIds that, mscra-
bic though it was to see, showed that
| their child was yet among the living
! But now, breath or motion there was
| nonc-her name was the name of a
shadow for her lie had ceased to be
She had LOFT the world in which they
| dwelt and would continue to dwell the
separation was infinite, the loss beyond
the power oil their smItten hearts to con-
cciye, and religion itself, that had hIther-
| TO borne them up, deserted them in that
extremity, and they both sank down to-
geiher on the floor. No foot approach
! ed them-no hand was stretched out to
succor them in their swooE--ior the
friends who bchcid the agony, stood
ao in their awe, and left them 10 the
care OF hun who, in his most dreadful
judgments, is i'll the God oi Mercy.
For an hour the parents were left a.
lone IA that chamber-tor scenes OF sui
lerlng there are, which to Witness is al
most to proiane. None went near them;
and the few dear friends that were n
the house dropped away one by ono to
their own homes. The servants watch
cd every louder groan that echoed thro'
the s,illuess Of the dark, and in whispers
spoke of the saintiy character OF the
beloved dead. "Too good was she," they
said "too beautiful, to live long;" and
she who had tended her from her birth,
showed ringlet %! her hair, Cut off dur
ing her last mortal sleep, while many
tear fell on ITS golden glow, from eyes
little Lsed to weep, and sentiments were
expressed BY those humble folks, most
affecting in their purity and soIemnity-
such is the influence of sacred sorrow
on the spirits of all the children of the
dust
Hurried feet were heard descending
the stair, and the sound died away at a
distance in the outer night. The old
nurse ventured into the room, and 10
with one arm b,low TIE head of the
corpse, and the other across its breast,
lay the mother in profound sleep -
Is 9TH faces were alike pale and the
same angelic smile was on bpth-but no
one else was present, aud 1t was plain
that the father had sought, in his dis
traction, The less lnsuierable solitude of
the woods or glens, now shonc over by
the midng ght moon and stars.
On he went, blind and deafto all out
ward things, yet unconsciously drawn,
as ic by the power Of some invisible spi-
rt, towards the solitary parish church,
that stood, among It's multitude of burial
heaps, under the gloom of an old pine
grove. Lonesome was the road he
took, up ravinc darke ned with trees,
and filled with the constant thunder off
waterfalls. To his ear, the place was
silent as the grave. Unappalled he pass
cd along the edges Of the precipices,
and close to the brink Of many sn abyss,
like one walking in his sleep, and to
whom danger Is not, because he has no
fear. The confused sense of some un-
imaginable calamity drove him along;
for his soul in its passion could no lon
ger grapple with realities, and all it knew
was that there had been most dismal
deRh. Misery more thu man could
endure was quaklng at his heart-but
his reason was so shaken, that it lost hold
Of the cause why of all Gods creatures
on this wretched earth he should be the
most wrctched, and thus ordered out for
ever and ever into the haunted wilder
ness.