The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1847-08-14
CHAPTER II.

care we not formed, as notes Emusic nre,
For one another, though dissimilar?
Such difference without dscord as can make
Those sweetest sounds in which all spirits
shake,
As trembling leaves in a continuous air.
SHELLEY.
From the time of her mothers death, Stcl-
IN dropped and pinned. The world had
grown all dark to the nothcress child. Her
wild brother, and her cold, reserved father,
alike strove to soften their natures and show
tenderness TO the helpless one; hut man is so
different TO woman, and all their kindness a.
toned not for the love of her who was gone.
Edmund remembered well his mothers dying
injunction, and many time he left the field
sports, Of which he was so pnssonately fond,
TO come and talk with his sister, and lead her
into the beautiful forest where she could hear
the birds songs, and he made glad with the
cladncss Of nature. But nothing could, alto
Eethcr remove the perpetual sadness which
now dnrkcned the face Of the blind girl
Excluded from the pleasures OF childhood,
hers passed away like n sorrowful dream
She grew up, living within herself, in Il world
of her own imagining, over which death
hung, like an eternal shadow, n mysterious
woe which she could not tathom, and which
yet haunted her like spectre. The rcmem-
bered touch ofthat icy hand made her shud-
der in her dreams; it was all size knew Of the
great change. Her mind. undiverted from
she pnst by any charms Of the present, be-
came dead to all outward impressions; and
alive only to Imagination, and most of all to
memory.
Thus in this dreamy state Of mind, the
blind girl insensibly passed from childhood
into girlhood. She had attained tho age of
which poets write as sweetest OF all, when
the bud is just opening into flower, and life
is in its hopeful spring. How little do these
said poets know that this is the snddest of
ALL What woman would ever wish to be u
gain "swcet sixteen" ChiIdhood's life is Il
never ending present, a contcnted dwelling
on what is best and pcasantest notC, with
out memory to sharpen the past, or anxiety
20 darkcn the future. But with youth, soon
ali, how soon! comes the thirst for some
thing more-the bitter, unsatisfed yearning
after vague happiness, some glorious ideal
ofhuman felicity, the same in all, yet varied
in form, according TO the different minds in
which il abides. One dreams of wealth, a.
mother of gaycty, another-ans for her!--of
love; and so the young creatures go on rest
lessly seeking TO lathom their newly awatl-
ened thoughts and feelings, and knowing not
2 their own hearts, nor yet life, they wander
about, bl'ndy daZzled or cropping in dark
ness, until the waking comes 10 that troubl-
cd dream and they enter on the reality, the
'true life OF heart and soul, for which woman
vas made.
Stella entered upon girlhood with a few
or none of the buoyant hopes of most young
maidens. She saw not beauty, and love was
to her only name that brought to her the
memory of her mother-the sole love she
had ever known. Always thoughtful, she
lived more than ever within the dark cham
bers of her own soul--her only world. But
that world now became peopled with deeper
and wilder fances; every day new cords
were touched in her heart, the mysterious
harmonies of which she could scarcely un-
derstand. She loved to be alone; in winter
she listened 10 the wind until she almost fam
cied it talked with her; in summer, she sat
for hours in the still, silent sunshine, and
thought ofheayen, of the time when she
should 90 thither, and see her mother, with
eyes no longer darkened. Then warble-
n perfume would bring back the dreaming
girl 70 earth, and she would think how sweet
che world must be to others, and droop her
head and weep that she was blind.
One gift atoned to Stella, in some measure
for the loss Of sight and that was sound TO
which music was at iIs very breath. Her
voice had tnes9 deep y tones that thrill