Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1842-12-30

tne Incorporating SUFFERER. w hat an ctcr-
nifty for him | left his presence, and stole
TO the busiest chamber in the house, dcsi-
rous of another leave-taking. The coffin
was already closed One person only was in
the room, and that was poor Frederick
weeping at the collins foot, with the uncon-
trollable fitness of heart-broken child. |
walked to his side and placed my hand in
his. lie closed me in his arms, and we had
not word to say, until the heart had wrung
its last tear through his drowned and CULVER
ing eye.
odd l not" he said at length-"tcI me,
Emma-did not obey her"
"You did," | answered "You never dis
obeyed her"
"But did not offer a hundred times to
come to her rescue! Did she not forbid
itr'
"You have done your duty, Frederick.
She was satisfied you had"
"lf thought otherwise, could not live
another hour. | am sure she was wrong
but do not reproach myself for strict
compliance with her wishes"
"She is in heaven" rejoined, "Ond smiles
upon you for filial love"
"Where is hc?" he asked, turning from
the subject. 81 have not met him yet"
"tle has expected you for the last hour or
two Come to him. He desires to see you "
"No-not at present. | shall wait here
until the ceremony compels me to endure
his sight. We are better and safer asunder.
We will follow her to the grave in company.
That is all he can require Of me. | am hap
pier alone. | could not talk with him"
"You will do nothing harsh and cruel,
will you ?" | asked, imploringly.
mo good can come of it. will not give
you pain unnecessarily, dear Emma Death
is no punishment TO such man. Torture
for years such as he inflicted he deserves.
1t cannot bring her to life again Would
that il might !"
had many things TO do on this eventlul
morning, and was obliged to leave my
brother sooner than | wished My anxiety
prompted me to be continually at his side,
for, in spite of his assurances, had little
confidence in his power of forbearance. /
knew that an angry word or look could over
throw mountain Of good resolutions, aud
render him as helpless as the infant in the
hold, and at the mercy Of his excited and I'M
fastened passions. l was aware, too, from
many observations that had fallen from him,
that his code Of morality was lax, and iusti-
fled to his mind acts that were criminal in
themselves, and in the judgment of the world.
His religious views had become fearfully
dimmed, and he needed only the stimulus
and the opportunity to become the sport and
prey of notions that lead only to destruction.
On these accounts trembled for him, and
begrudged every moment that had passed
away from him. Ill fortified he was to be
alone in any place. Here, where he walk
ed in the midst of danger and evil solicita-
ton, he needed hand ever present to guide
him, and to warn him of the mine that one
lnconsiderate step would set laundering be-
meath his very feet
AT eleven o'clock, the small procession
that constituted the ceremony of my moth
er's humble funeral was marshaled, and rea-
dy to proceed My father and | were in
the library, and waited for my brother.
heard his footstep on the stairs and my
heart beat painfully and quick He descend
ed slowly and did not seem to DELAY or
pause. In another moment he entered. /
looked at my father, and he WINGED under
the hard trial. He looked uneasily about
him-cast his eyes upon the ground-to-
ward me-to the attendants-any where but
there, where fear, shame, and acute vexation,
all commingled, rendered an object ntoIer-
able to the sight. Frederick was very pale,
but he looked subdued and placid. Per
fccuy collected and in distant manner. he
bowed to his father, and the latter returned
his greeting with silent recognition, that
betrayed at once the agitation Of his mind
and the small ability which he possessed to
check and hide the knawing agony that
scared his sinful soul There was no warm
er sautation. Not a word was Spoken
The silence of death prevailed in the room,
far more crushing, because inconsonant with
the occasion, until my father was reminded
that it was time to go forward. | saw them
depart-I marked them as they followed
side by side the remains of the deceased
through the long avenue that led to the
church-yard Still not a word was exchang-
ed. A handkerchief was in the hand of nv
father-the mourner's ensign Frederick
was overcome, and wept aloud and violently
his sobs and means were carried through
the air, and conveyed to my own distressed
and heaving heart. closed the easement
and escaped them. was alone. | knew
not that it was useless prayer that nature
prompted me to offer up for the safety and
welfare Of the beloveds soul. Had | been
told so, | would not have believed the chill
ing tale. No sooner had lost sight of the
mournful retinue, than, overborne by an
impulse of love, fell upon my knees and
implored God to give comfort and repose to
her whom he had taken to himself | did
not arise until sweet assurance Gained my
spirit and gave it boundess confidence aud
hope. desired no arguments to prove my