Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1835-04-23

the checquered story OF my tumble con-
Germs and precarious feelings-and |
have a Shrinking repugnance to such an
exposure.
Suffice it to say, that my path, which
many are apt to think was fiowery one,
was too often beset by thorns; aud that,
at times, when | was supposed beguiled
by the pleasures and splendour of Eu-
rope, and ",reading the primrose path
Of dalliance," was, in fact, shut up
from society, battling with cares and
perplexities, and almost struggling for
subsistence.
In the mean time, nv heightened ex.
lie subjected me TO painful doubts and
surmises. Some, who really valued me,
supposed that l was dazzled by the fac
,itious splendors around me, and was
leading a life Of epicurean indulgence.
Others, who knew me not, or chose to
Judge harshly, accused me of want OF
affection for my native land; l met with
imputations of the kind in the public pa
pers, and ! received anonymous letters,
reiterating them, and basely endeavor-
ing to persuade me that had lost the
good will Of my countrymen.
! should have treated these imputa-
tions with little regard, but they reached
me in desponding moments, when other
circumstances es had produced morbid
state of feelings, and they sunk deeply
in my mind. The literary undertakings
in which was engaged, and on which
| depended for my maintenance, requir-
ed a further absence from my country;
yet | found that absence attributed to
motives abhorrent to my feelings, and
wounding to my pride.
BY degrees was led to doubt the en-
tire sentiment OF my countrymen towards
me. Perhaps l was rendered more sem
sitive on this head by the indulgent
goodwill | had ever experienced from
them. They had always cherished me
beyond my deserts, excnsing my many
deficiencies, taking my humors and er-
rors in good part, and exaggerating eve-
ry merit. Their cordial kindness had in
a manner become necessary to me. /
was like spoiled child, that could not
bear the glance Of an altered eye.
cared even less for their good opinion,
than their good will, and felt indignant
at being ebowed into position with re-
spect to them, from which my soul re-
volted.
was repeatedly urged by those who
knew the workings ofmy feelings, TO lay
them before my countrymen, and to re-
pei the doubts that had been cast upon
my patriotism. / declined to follow
their advice. I have generally been
content, in all matters relating to my
self, to suffer the truth to work its own
way to light If the conduct and con.
Germs Of an individual are worthy of pub
lie attention, they will sooner or later be
accurately known and appreciated; and
it is that ultimate opinion tbat alone con-
stitutes true reputation: all transient
popularity is little worth struggling for.
Beside, what was l asked to vindicate
myself from-a want Of affection to my
native country; should as soon think
Of vindicating myself from the charge of
a want of love to the mother that bare
me! l could not reply to such an i'm
putation, my heart would swell in my
throat, and keep me silent.
Yet l will confess, that the arrow
which had been planted in my heart,
rankled and festercd there.-The cor
roding doubt that had been infused in
my waking thoagh,s, affected my sleep
ing fancies. The return to my country,
so long anticipated, became the constant
subject Of harrassing dreams. l would
fancy myself arrived in my native city,
but the place would be so changed that
could not recognise it. ! would wan
der through strange streets, meet with
strange faces, and find every thing
strange around me: or, what was worse,
] would meet with those loved, with
my kindred, and the companions of my
youth, but they no longer knew me, or
passed me by with neglect. l cannot
tell how often have awakened from
such dreary dreams, and felt sadness
at heart for hours afterwards.
AT length the long anticipated mo-
ment arrived. again saw the "blue
line Of my native land" rising like a
cloud in that horizon where, so many
years before, had seen it fade away
l again saw the bright city Of my birth,
rising out Of its beautiful bay-its multi
piled fanes and spires, and its prolonged
forest Of masts, procIaimng its augment
ed grandeur. My heart ,hrobbed with
pride and admiration, as l gazed upon
it-I gloried in being its son.
But how was the wanderer TO be re-
ceived, after such an absence? Was
he to be taken, as a favored child, TO its
bosom, or repulsed as a stranger and
changlingi