The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1850-01-23

mune with our, own, hearts, and doubly
tremble to bare them TO the all seeing eye
Of our Maker! My husband often wrote
me most affectionately. He did not urge
my return, but said, whenever | felt willing
to exchange the pleasures of the metropo-
his for the seclusion of the hermitage, his
hands and his heart were open to receive
me.
At length received letter. which touch
cd those chords, that yet vibrated to the
tones of nature and feeling. He seldom
spoke Of himselfGbut in this, he mention
ed having been very i'll, though then con-
valescent. "Your presence, my Mary"
said he, "would bring healing on its wings.
! fear, greatly fear, / have doomed you to
unhappiness, by rashly yielding to the in
huence of your beauty and winning man
ners. taking advantage Of your simplicity
and inexperience. without rejecting how
untitled you were, from natural disposition
and early habits, to be fellow-laborer in
SO humble portion of our masters vine
yard. Think not, my beloved wife, | say
this in reproach. No! It's in sorrow, in
repentance, in humiliation ofspirit. Ihave
been too selfish have not shown suffi-
cient sympathy for the trials and vexations
to which for me, you have been exposed.
4 have asked to receive too much. have
given back TOO little. Return then. my
Mary; you were created for nobler pur-
poses. than the beings which surround you.
Let us begin life anew. Let us take each
other by the hand as companions for
time--but pilgrims for eternity. Be it mine
to guard, guide, and sustain-your's to
console, to gid, and comfort" In post
script he added
81 am better nova journey will re-
store me. will soon be with you, when
j trust we will not again be parted"
My heart was not rock. 1t was NOV
ed-melted. should have been less than
human, to have been untouched by a let
ter like this. All my romantic love. but so
recently chilled, returned; and | thought
Of his image as that of an angels. Ever
impulsive, ever actuated by the passion Of
the moment. | made the most fervent res
olutions Of amendment, and painted for the
hour when we should start for, together,
this immortal goal! Alas! how wavering
were my purposes, how ineffective my holy
resolutions.
There was numerous congregation
gathered on the Sabbath morn, not in the
simple village church, but the vaulted walls
of city dome. A stranger assembled the
pulpit. Every eye was turned on him,
and none wandered. He was pallid, as
from recent indispostion; but there was
fitting glow on his cheek, the herald of
coming inspiration There was divine
simplicity. sublime fervor, an abandon
ment of SELF a lifting up the soul to heaven
an indiscrbable and spiritual charm. per-
vading his manner, that was acknowledge
ed by the breathless attention of crowd
cd audience. composed Of the wealth and
the fashion of the metropolis. And was
there, the proudest and happiest of the
throng. That gifted being was my hus-
band. Twas Unidentified for all past NOR
tifications, and looked forward to bright
years of felicity. not in the narrow path
we have heretofore travelled, but a wider,
more brilliant sphere. My imagination
placed him at the head of that admring
and saw the lowly flock
he had been lately feeding, weeping, un.
pitied, between the porch and the altar.
Before we bade farewell to my uncle, | |
had abundant reason to believe that nv
vision would be realized. The church
was then without pastor. No cand- |
date had as yet appeared in whom their
opinions or affections were united. They
were enthusiastic in their admiration Of
MIR. L., and protested against the OBJ
scurity Of his location. With such hopes
gliding the future, | left the metropolis with
a cheerfulness and elasticity Of spirits,
which my husband hailed as a surety for
long years of domestic felicity. / would
gladly linger here awhile. fear to 90 on.
You have followed me so far with kind |
'f fcomplaisant interest, as poor, vain,
weak young creature, whose native defects
lave been enhanced by education, and
Who has unfortunately been placed in
phere she is incapable ofadoruing. The
is too pure, too rarifed. Re-
moved at once from the valley of sin to the
Mount of holiness, breathe with difficulty
he celestial air, and pant for more conge-
lial regions. Must | proceed? Your
will turn to detestation: yet |
annot withdraw from the task have i'm
osed on myself 1t is an expistory one;
nd oh, may it be received as such! oaI,
1t was scarcely more than a week after
ur return. All had been peace and sun
hine, so resolved was | to be all that was
,vely and amiable. even listened with
pparent patience to aunt Debby's inter-
Unable hymns, and heard some Of her
ing stories, the seventy-seventh time,
'ithout any manifest symptom Of yexation.
was about sunset. We sat together in s
le study, my husband and myself watch.
lg the clouds as they softly rolled towards |
lie sinking sun, to dip their edges in hi.
olden beams. The boughs of the elms
aved across the window, giving us Gimp I
IS of the beautiful vale beyond, bounded |
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