The Arkansas banner., 1846-03-04

| the desolate idea of tearing myselffrom Anna Singleton and entering into new habits and scense ot life. Every thing around me as- sumed tenderer and more endearing aspect. Never did the woods and the streams appear so beautiful as now, that | felt must soon leave them for ever. My heart bled and was breaking within me, though pride kept me silent; but when looked in thelace of Anna Singleton, who smiled unconscious of my doom, while presenting me with a calnation at the garden door, felt my reason tottering on the brink of insanity.
 Two or three days passed over in com plete irresoution, but at length 1 felt the dismal necessity of bringing my thoughts to bear on the point. Law-eould l think of such for q profession. Alasl how opposed to the habitudes of my mind, Was my life to be spent in debate and wrangling, in fomen- ting instead of healing the quarrels of society," Was to make the distribution of justice q trade, and 10 lose the sense of right and wrong over musty papers and parchments !? To disposition like mine, the slavery of Siberia were imcomparably preferable to such a lot. Divinity l did not choose, because nature never destined me for an orator, and because public speaking would have been a trial, an expousre, suffering insupportable to my too sensitive nerves. Medicine pre- ierred, not beeanse l had any particular bias to the study, but because il was a grave, gloomy profession, connected with all that Is 1 heart desoating and mourntul-with the de- cay of the body and of the mind-with the mutabilty of this earthly state--the nonen- tity of all worldly enjoyments-in word, as not altogether uncongenial to the habltual- tone and temper of my spirit.
 Moutnful is the memory of pleasant days and considering the transitoriness of all our pleasures, 1t scarcely appears to me in tho light of a paradox, that even our joys here are sorrows-be being sought after with anxie- ties-being mere sun-bursts, momentary in their duration, in the gloom of existence, and leaving behind them lifelong memory ol painful and unavailmg regret. Perhaps never felt the intoxication of love in more intense degree than when the day of my separation from Anna Singleton had almost arrived. There was no friend to whom could impart my feelings, and to give me sweet counsel in return. was, as il were alone Tn the world; the least leaf dangling from the November tree. Yet, even in wo there is a species of enjoyment, especially il passion is the source ofaflliction, and accor- dingy, a nameless feeling of luxury was linked with my silent suffering and intense.'
 The year, having passed its zenith, was now mournlally declining into the sunless days, and long, boisterous, dreary nights ol October; and as | wandered about the fading woods, dreaming of nothing, save her was about to forsake, perhaps for ever, every thing seemed ill conspiracy to add to my melancholy gloom. The riPo .rustling corr had been cut down and carried to the farm yard; and yellow whitening leaves, whirling through the abandoned fields, spoke prophet ieally of decay. The skies had put on tho solemnity of earth, and frequent showers fel from the heavy clouds. Here and there, a. beat up against the winds in my lonely rambles, might be seen the sportsman, prow- ling over the sterile wastes with his gun and dog; while ever and anon the pipping not oI the widowed partridge mingled with the signing breezes.
 What added to the poignancy of my fee lings was the delicate state of health into which Anna Singleton appeared falling, and the thoughts ofmy being constrained to leave her in that state What ayailed my com plaints2 Often was this question put to my conscious heart; no alternative remained; and yielding to the destiny over which had nc controls, I gazed steadfastly on the star oi wormwood which was to preside over my after fate.