Macon intelligencer., 1838-11-07

L Il
ed into familiarity, and though
made no formal declaration of Low,
IL was evident, ifnot to all, at least /
her, that she was destined to exercis
over temper like mine an infuenc
that could only end in death.
Near the period of which I speak
q had just completed my sixteent
year, engagements, the nature 0
which it is unnecessary TO detail, call
led me away from my native place
1 The length of my absence depended
sIupon circumstances over which
could exercise but little control. The
keen and jealous eyes of Ellen's fa
lther had detected our growing iuti.
macy, and in brutal, selfish manner
he had forbidden me the house, omit.
ting no opportunity to heap insult up
on the presumptuous boy who had
dared to love his daughter. May God
deal with him in vengeance!
The mlser may guard his boarded
treasure safe from the hands of the
robber, but in the wild idolatry of my
love, Ellen, to me, was a treasure far
more precious than the gold and sill
yer other father, piled like Pelion up
on Ossa. So we met by moonlight
alone. The interview was brief, de-
lightful, mingled with dearest joys
and sweet anticipations. 1t was
enough for me to know that | was
loved, and in the exultation of my
heart Icould have cried aloud. There
was not in this bright and breathing
world a being, nay an insect, that |
would have harmed. But | am sad
Iy altered now! Misfortunes dry up
the very fountains of our sympathy;
and those who have most felt the
need of succor, and found it not, too
often permit the unklndness of the
cruel and the thoughtless to mar the
feelings of that charity, which, as is
beautifully taught in holy writ, 'bear-
eth all things, believeth all things,
lopeth all things, endureth all things
But to pass on to my story. Wei
parted as lovers part, in tears, with
mpassioned kisses, and sighs, and
,rotestations of fideIity.-ThroughE (
he instrumentality ofa friend heard
occasionally from Ellen. Twice | re-
,eived letters from her, breathing a
spirit of love and undying constancy.
But business requiring my removal
o a more distant country, every pro-
'pect of communion by letters was
closed. In that far off land
counted the dull years of my absence,
IS the bitter portion of life, gladly
anticipating the future, as holding in
store for me the happiness denied in
earlier days.
AT the expiration of six years, with
little more experience than usual
or my age, a heavier purse, and
nanlier brow, than when | left, |
urned my face towards home. From
hence no tidings had reached me for
our years; and agitated by contend
ng emotions of hope and fear, / ap-
,roached the spot in which rested my
lopes of happiness. 1t was early on |
sabbath morning in April that my
Iatiye village first rose to my enrap-
ured vision. The clear blue sky was
bove me, and universal gladness
eemed to extend over this beautiful
nd teeming earth. Every bird popr- ;
d forth its joy in stream of song;
nd Welding to the light breath of a
almy breeze, every shrub and blade
f grass, seemed to wave me well
ONE to the scenes of my childhood.
Think oft as you may, there are
ew events in mans life more trying
han a return home after long abb
ance. In the small compass of a.
ilIage circle, fearful changes take
lace in a few brief years; and many
ave returned to the spot oftheir na- /
witty. and asked, Where are the
riends of my YOUTH and been an
wered only by the echo oftheir voice. /
t is, therefore, with quick pulse, !,
nd hurried step. we approach our
zones, dreading to enquire the fate
f those we cherish most dearly. I'll
vas spared, however, the pain of
skiing questions. The little village
entirely deserted; and yet
he place was full of mementoes, stir
ing up, from the silent depths of
thousand forgotten occur
ences of boyhood-thereby adding Il