Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1839-03-08
From B lackwood's Edinburgh Magazine.
THE ONYX RING.
CHAPTER v.

Ditn
Musgrave had twice seen Elizabeth, the
daughter of Farmer Wilson, in the frs,
week after her return. and now towards
the close Of the second he sat again beside
her bed. Maria Lascelles, who was now
no longer q visitor at Sir Charles Har.
courts, but living at her U%ncle's house, a
good deal further off, had found out the dy-
ing woman, and was with her when Mus
grave entered, but then rose and went
away. He found the sufferer peni,en'.
resigned, and hopeful. and be felt Tint she
comprehended him better than most of
chose whom he conversed with. She had
grown rapidly weaker, and nearer TO her
end, and he expected her very speedy de-
parture from the BODY. She was propped
up by pillows in the bed, and her mother
'snt beside her at the opposite side from the
clergyman. and attended to all her wants.
Musgrave had his back to the window,
through which q bright evening light flow
ed in and fell upon her wasted haggard
face, and upon the shrunken hand that lay
near him on the bed clothes. She spoke
to him Of Marin, and said, That lady is a
grent blessing 10 me; che reads and talks
TO me for hours. and her visits are like those
of a young prophecies. She enters strange
" into oil | feel, though she can never
have had any thing like it in herself. And
when | say any thing Of this kind to her.
she only answers, that we have all much
the same things in our minds if we would
attend to them properly
1T must be a great pleasure and advan-
tage to you to have such a FRIEND
'Oh! indeed 1t is so, sir. think she
hos done me more good than any one ever
knew. She sees sn well what kind of help
] want. and she always tries to make me
feel how real and awful our sins are, and
then points out how great is the blessing of
being relieved from the burthen Of them,
Oh she is a good young LADY,
Musgrave listened with much interest,
but thought it right 10 turn the conversa.
ton more directly on Elizabeth's own state.
He expa,iated on the happiness Of future
life. the perfect freedom from sorrow and
trial, and the luminous and ethereal kind
Of existence which is all we can imagine oF
a perfectly spiritualizcd life in the unc!ouded
presence Of God. She listened with some
pleasure. But, though checked in express
sing herself, as the poor so often are. by
the fear Of differing with their superiors,
she felt in her heart that what she chiefly
wanted was not encouragement Of this
kind. but that which should strengthen in
her the sense of present victory even IN
this life over the pain of actual sinfulness.
aud the sharp remembrance OF many pre-.
viOus offences. So only she guessed. but
hardly dared 10 say even to herself, conld
she look forward cheerfully and on sure
grounds to a better and nobler existence
hereafter. She took the first opportunity
which Musgrave's remarks offered of refer
ring to her husband. and looked at him
while she did go with earnest eyes, and
spoke with trembling words. Musgrave
had known him, hut they had never been
at all intimste. Her mother left the room
to procure some drink for her. and while
she was gone, elizabeth took from under
her pillow a little packet Of papers which
she looked at fondly for some seconds. and
then held out to Musgrave, saying, Take
these and read them, they may be Of some
use to you, for il is necessary to your work
that you should understand the thoughts
and hearts of men. There are things
among them that you will perhaps make
out better even than |. who so we'll knew
the writer. 1t is very sore for me TO part
with them. now that | am so near the last
but if they can do any good it is much bet
ter so. You will see that they are much
frayed and stained, for | have read them
over and over. and have never had them
away from my bed. Oh! sir. before he
died, he had far better faith and hope than
you will find written there. Indeed-in-
deed-wi,h all his faults he was very good,
and at the last when he had suffered ST
much. and was SO anxious about me-and
our-baby-he was able. he told me, to
trust that all was. and would be- for the best
and was content to do and suffer wbateve,
might be the will of God. But ! beg your
pardon. sir, for troubling you in this way
only ] know you are very kind, and none o
them here can understand such things as he
thought Ooh! no, they never could
he laugh. me so much, so mnny-mnn
things, that | never should have known bu,
for him and with all my faults. he ha,
made me see every thing so differently
somehow. as 1t II were so much larger ant
brighter than It used to be-iust as differ
ent as the inside of q book full of beautiful
writing and pictures is from the cover out
side of it. Oh! my own Henry!
She now closed her eyes, exhausted ant
in tears. Her mother came back and said
you know, dear, Mr.. Musgrave is to Civ,
you The sacrament to day. # you are we
enough, and we ought not &c keep him.
'Oh, yes, mother, quite we'll enough, TO
that. shall be very glad
The mother called in the others Of tn
family, except James, who was away
work, and they all partook devoutly Of tn
sacred rite. In administering it to EIizs
beth, Musgrave felt as if it were a meetin
in world of disembodied spirits. In he
new life seemed for a moment awakened
and she looked more intelligent and lovelle
than he bad ever seen her. When tn
others were departing, she slgnfied to the
not to 60, and looked steadily at each
their faces. She then cast a long ga7
vnnnl H. . 4 III A. .L.--. H.. tro