The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1849-03-30

is,euce-whether they yet linger in the sun
light and air, or whether the land IN which
they dwell lieth very far of. All of US
have belief on this subject, bat venture to
assert, the sorrow OF all partakes of but this
one feeling; they are gone gone to us
they are not visible by our sde-the hand
is cold, and cannot return our grasp--the
heart is still, and can no longer beat against
orr own, as it was erewhile wont-we re-
member only that they were lovely and
pleasant in their lives-that we have spo-
ken harsh words-have neglected opportu-
mites for kindness, than can never, never
he agein offered, and now we needs must
pour our sympathies, and our regrets, over
their slnmbering dust-we needs must yield
our offerings, and lavish our tears, only the
more freely and bitterly, because, $50 far as
we can know from the replies sent back to
ns,) those offerings are unheediug and those
fears unavailing.
had stopped occasionally TO read the in-
scripiions. 1t is rarely one can dwell long
upon an cpitaph. A poor joke about ordi
dairy virtucS-a lugubrous distich from
some unpoeiical hymn, are the scrawls
which too many delight TO leave to the pass
cr-by, other departed relatives and friends.
But on this subject shall not dwell. Let
me not rest beneath such nOckeries as
these. Let my simple heads,one but bear
my name. II that shall call up 10 reInem-
branCes, let me sleep, aud be forgotten.
There are, however, some epitaphs " hich
stir the hearts depths of the most casual
reader. Here is one--the acme Of grief
the meanings Of heart
SEIZE Laisse une mere h,consolaJle."
As copied into my note. book, I thought
would add a word if could catch il from
an angel. But what was even that TO the
one next fixed my attention;
"Ma Pduure FHe."--(My Poor Grl!)
Reader, think but speak not oft, for the
love Of God.
was STOPPING down TO arrange some
flowers that had fallen from vase near this
last recorded inscription. A hand pressed
my shoulder lightly, aud looking up, ! be
held an old man, who. in broken voice,
and in difficult English, addressed me sub
stamtially as follows:
"My son, is II the grave Of sister, or Of
her who
interrupted him. "You mistake me,
sir, am stranger here
"Mrangcr!" he echoed with apparent
surprise, land not know her who is sleep
ing there? Why, then, were You kneeling
before that grave? Young man you have
no cause tor Shame''
''Nor would | be ashamed" replied, ''it
| had been kneeling, but was not. was
only STOPPING TO arrange these flowers be-
fore IpasSed on. II was a simple duty, and
one which any sensitive heart would have
suggested. and ready hands performed. A.
gain, tell you, | am a stranger hero, aud
only stepped in TO look atan Inheritance like
that which ] am heir to-
"You seem youug,' he replied, Sand
young hearts brood over their love in soil
tude. | myself have felt how difficult it is
he checked himself, and eyed me incred-
uou>ly.
81 would choose to be alone = answer
ell. "but suffer me TO say, your Surmises are
without, founiaiion.'
"Blushes are the hearts tell-tales," he re.
sumcd calmly.
They do not always tell lore-talcs,' /
replied doGgedIy.
Il comprehend you perfectly" was the
answer, shut pardon me. 1t was weak
ness, he could go no farther. The iount
of grief had burst. From his eyes rolled
large and fast tear drops, his voice culver
ed, and his whole frame shook with untou-
trollable emotion. He regarded me mo-
ment with intense carneStness, aud then
throwing his feeble arms around my neck
wept on my bosom long while.
| elf you knewmy motive in thus address
ing you,"he said at length, 81 would not
ask your pardon. But / cannot let you 60,
aud preserve the feelings ola man. no.
| ped you were attracted to this tomb as |
have been, by the name inscribed thereon.
have daughter by that dear appellaion.
That name is not more deeply gravcd on
the marble, than il is dug into this bleeding
heart. 1see we are strangers would'st thou
weary of little tale -
"Dcdr STRIP replied
"Wen," he commenced, ''it shall be shor,
and simple"
"My life has been eventful. am ma
tive Of France, and my parents were Cath.
oics after the 'most straitest sect.' Their
only ambition in regard to myself was that
should be qualified to receive orders, and
obtain some honorable po,itionin the Church
was aent to Salamanca. The impctuons
daring, the wild fancIeS and the peerless
beauty Of Spain, soon drove from my mind
all ideas of spending my life in the hear,leS,
mnmmeries, the asceticsm aud the ccliba.
cy Of Romish official. l was, at heart
averse TO the religion, though had foolish
ly kept back my sccpticism from my pa
rcuS. left the University, aud embarked
for The United States. had not long been
here, before ! was married, aud had settled
myself in this city, in the practice of my
profession. In my marriage was unlortu'
nate. Not that did not spend two years
in perfect, unalloyed enjoyment. Bat then
the stroke came, and with fierce laugh a
scorn, gave back my wife to him who had
sen,her. My daughter (hcreXpress image,
was left me, or | should have followed her
| was unwilling to lose the fruit Of that boz
som to the mercics OF n hcartlcss world. A.
she grew up, was PANIED to find her dispo
sticn, in no respect, the couHtcrpart OF hcl
mothers. My wife was unreserved, frank
snd contiding; the daughter silent, reflect
i've, and dls,ruStlul --diStrus,inl even OF m'
of me, her father II it were even prop
cr for parent to call his own child besuti
full, Gas many foolish parents do, and think
the world believes them,) my weak word
could not express her image, rs woulJ
have you conceive il. That word itself pal,
her the tribute Of its unccasing admiration
God knows how struggled, and ate the