The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1837-06-21


the cheerful group assemble at sunset, be-
meath magnificent elms in their beautiful
lawn, or walking under the walnut trees
that shade the broad avenue. The cetafs
which now give SO gloomy q character TO
the house were then newly planned. they
had been placed there by their uncle's hand,
and were consequently respected as sacred
memorials of the dead. Al the time came
into the neighborhood, the family consisted
five children, three noble and stately bows,
with fair, frank countenances and Two
daughters, one lovely for the gentleness OF
her character the other for the personifca-
ion of childish beauty.
had become quite intimate with the
family, and deeply interested in its happi-
ness, when ] was one day summoned there
professionally, TO attend the sick bed Of their
eldest son. He had plunged into the river
to save the life of little boy, the only child
! of poor widow, and in the excitement of
feeling, had forgotten the precauiion neces-
sary to his own safety. Sitting in wet
clothes occasioned a severe illness, which
terminated fatally and in less than three
weeks, coffin, bearing the name of &" II EN-
ry Wa!lingford, aged l5," was placed in
the family vault Of the churchyard of Sy-
denham.-Iiow shall describe to you the
feelings of the parents on this first bereave-
nent. 1t was emphatically their first grief
death had entered their charmed circle,
and broke the spell of happiness forvyer.
1t was long ere the father recovered from
the blow, but it sunk sill deeper in the
mothers heart. The waters Of affection
still formed freshly around her path, but she
could not forget that one source was sealed.
In less than year after tho death OF
Henry, they were called to suffer still
heavier aff1ction. The two sons had gone
In the pony chaise TO visit school fellow
about ten miles distant, with the intention
of returning at sunset. 1t grew late, and
the anxious parents walked down the aven-
ue to meet them. Alas their meeting was
fearful one. They encountered party Of
villagers, bearing the dead body of a servan,
and one son, while the otlier only survived
long enough to breathe his last beneath his
fathers roof The horses had taken fright
and dashed down into a gravel pit, which
yawaed at the side of the road. Again a
mournful procession moved through that
noble avenue, and deposited its sud burden
in the churchyard of Sydcnham. Blu, how
desolate was now thar happy home The
glad voices that had filled those walls with
glee were hushed forever; the cheerful foot
steps that had rung so morry through those
marble halls, were still in death. The light
and music of lie seemed vaiiissred together
from the hearts of the agonized parents,
and but for their two little girls, they would
have gone down to the grave mourning, but
there was still tie to bind then, to life, aud
grief for the dead seemed to redouble their
love for the living.
Anna, the eldest daughter, was then 8
years of age, with soft, dark and graceful
form without any pretensions to regular
beauty. Her temper was one Of perfect gen.
tleness, and her strength Of character, even
at that age, was very remarkable. Isabel
was one of those timid, dependant sort Of
beings, who accustomed TO be cherished
with exquisite tenderness, seemed to grow
up without the devclopement of any Of the
sterner qualities so essential to our well do
ing in this selfish world. She wa. all love-
illness and weakness. Mrs. Wallingford
saw the difference between her children,
and endeavored. by the most judicious
means, to discipline the minds of both. IL
was necessary to watch, least the frmness of
Anna's character should degenerate imo
sterDness or obstnucy while Isabel re-
qulred to have her sensitiveness repress'd
her tImidity subdued, and her latent ener-
ges exercised. Auna's affectonate heart
materially assisted her mothers plans for
her improvement, at the age of sixteen, she
was one of the noblest characters that
could be conceived. Firm aud unyielding
IN her iutegr,ty-strong in virtuous resolve,
yet gentle as child, with richly stored
mind and graceful person, she was an OBJ
ject Of affection to all who knew her. Her
strength Of mind was soon severely tried
Her beloved mother sunk beneath the vast
ing touch of consumption, and the city Of
the dead received another inbabltant. Bit
terly did Anna mourn over this beaviest sor
row. but forgot not her duties. Her moth
er's dying breath bad bequeaiIed to her
care her young sister and widowed father
While your father lives, my Anna, never
allow any temptation to separate you from
him." saId the dying woman; 9" know
his heart as none other can know it, and |
am sure he will never cease to need your
kind solace-suppIy my place US far as pos
slble-be to him a companion, and To nv
fragile Isabel a mother" Anna promised,
and the mothers last breath blessed her de-
voted child.
Mr.. Wallingford never recovered his
spirits after the death Of his wife. lie be-
came gloomy and desponding-be fancied
that doom hung over his house, which
noihing could avert, and busted himself in |
endeavoring to discover what grea, crime
had been committed by his race, which was
thus fesrfuly punished.
fact, bis reason totered on the very |
brink Of destruction, and had he been
watched by less careful affection than
that which nctusted his daughter Anna, he I