The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1845-04-24
From the Columbian Magazine for Feb.
ELIZABETH WILSON.
BY l.. MARIA CHILD.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.
1.-THE following story is founded upon facts
which occurred during the latter part of the eigh-
teenth century. The leading incidents ale stiliin
the memory of many Of the inhabitants of Chester
County, Pennsylvania
EL1zABETH WILSON was of hum
bic, though espectable pafentage. From
infancy she was remarked for her beau.
ty, and delicate nervous organization.
Her brother William, two years older,
was likewise handsome child, with a
more sturdy and vigorous frame. He
had gentle, loving heart, which ex-
pended its affections most lavishIy on his
mother and itte sister. in their early
years Lizzy was his constant shadow
Ii he went 10 the barn to hunt for eggs,
the little one was sure TO run prattllng
along with him, hand in hand. Ii he pelt.
ed walnuts from the tree, she was sure
to be there with her little basket, to pick
them up. They sat on the same blue
bench to eat their bread and milk; and
with the first jack hnife he ever owned,
the alfectionate boy carved on it the let
ters w. and E for William and Eliza
beth. The sister lavishly returned his
love. If a pie was baked for her, shc
would never break it till William came
TO share: and she would never go to
sleep unless her arms were about his
neck.
Their mother, a woman of tender
heart and yielding temper, took great
delight in her handsome children. OGen,
when she went out to gather chips or
brush, she stopped to look in upon them,
as they sat on the blue bench, feeding
each other from their little porringers OF
bread and milk. The crosshghts from
side window threw on them a reflection
of the lilac bushes, so that they seemed
seated in Towering grove. ltwas the
only picture the poor woman had; but
none of the old masters could have
equaled its beauty.
The earliest and strongest develop
ment of Lizzy's character was love-
She was always caressing her kitten, or
twlning her arms about lilies neck, or
leaning on her mothers lap, begging Tor
kiss. A dozen times day she would
earnestly look into her mothers eyes, land
inquire, most beseechlngly, Does you
love your little Lizzy?' And if the fond
answer did not come as promptly as usu-
al, her beautiful eyes, always plaintive
IN their expression, would begin to swim
with tears. This Strong necessity Of
loving which so pervades the nature Of
woman, the far child inherited from her
gentle mother; aud from her, too, inner.
tied deficiency Of irmness, of which
such nature has double need To be
every thing, and do every thing, for those
she loved, was the paramount law of her
existence.
Such being was Of course born to
sorrow. Even in infancy, the discerning
eye might already see its prophetic shad-
ow resting on her expressive counten-
ance. The first gentle affection OF her
life, was the death of her mother, when
she was ten years old. Her delicate
nerves were shattered by the blow, and
were never after fully restored to health.
The dead body of her beloved mother,
with large coins on the eyelIds, was so
awlulIy impressed on her maginaton,
that the image followed her everywhere,
even into her dreams, As she slept,
tears often dropped from tremulous eye
lashes, and nightmare visions made her
start and scream. There was no gentle
voice near to sooth her perturbed spirit;
none to throw an angels shining robe
over the hideous spectre that lay so cold
and stiff in the hall of memory. Her IA
Their fed aud clothed his children, and
caused them to be taught TO read and
write. Ii did not occur 10 him that any
thing more was included in parental du-
ty. Of clothing for the mind or food for
tho heart he knew nothing; for his own
had never been clothed and fed. He
came home weary from daily toll, ate his
supper, dozed in his chair awhile, and
then sent the children to bed. A few
times, after the death OF his wife, he kiss.
ed his daughter, but she never ventur-
ed to look up into his eyes, and ask Does
you love your little Lizzy1' " lille was
her only consolation; and all he could do
was to weep passionateIy with her, at
everything which reminded them oftheir
mother.
Nature as usual reflected back the
image ofthe soul that gazed upon her,
To Lizzy's excited mind, everything APP
peared mysterious and awful, and all
sounds seemed to wal: and sigh. The
rustling tthe trees 10 the evening wind