The miners' express. (Dubuque, Iowa) 1849-1854, 1850-08-21

AS evening drew near, walked out, and al.
most unconsciously, directed myssteps to the
graveyard; and there, beside that new-made
grave, unused and wept by turns, till an APP
preaching footstep startled me.
'sPardon me, my dear sir, said kind, man.
ly voice, which recognised as that of Dr. Ath-
erton. ssI did not think of meeting you here, but
rejoice it is SO; for no filter place can be found
to convey to you the dying message of your
| friend. gs5
| begged him TO tell me freely all she had said;
"for,' said l, she is the only being l have loved
since my mother s death, and have ever loved
her since her earliest infancy
"She was truly worthy of alllove and respect, " I;
answered DR.. A.; "and, . added he, after pause,
81, too, have loved her; but only as a man might
love an ANGEL
"And did she not return your love!' L asked
"She seemed to feel sort of kindly regard, a
kind of ssterly affection; and | have sometimes
felt as if twas only the plying tenderness of an
angel towards mortal. should have thought
her incapable of loving like Others had not
learned, from her own lips that she had long
loved you. She called it with sisters love; but
1t embodied all the strongest affections Of her
heart, thlnk-though she ever gentle and
KIND to all. had enjoyed her acquaintance for
several years ere dared hope that she might yet
become my wife; but the more saw of her, the
more perfect seemed her graces Of mind and per.
SON She was my ideal of female purity and ex-
cellence. 4 t.5
"Encouraged by her artless kindness, of.
fered her my hand and heart. This seemed, at
first, to give her pain-I knew not why Some
lime elapsed, and was neither refused nor ac-
cepted-though Eancied she seemed cold and
distantin in her manner toward me: and when
renewed the subject again, she replied,
81 very much fear have not the power to
make you happy
! uTell me Whv said ... ss4y
"Because am not, perhaps, capable of loving
you as you deserve to be loved,'' she answered.
"And then [ may not hope to win your love,
Miss Lessing,'' | said.
Said she, 'Our affections not wholly under
our control; you have my highest esteem, but
am too cold hearted for your wife"
ssSome time passed in conversation, and ere
we parted she had consented to receive my ad-
dresses. have ofentmes felt that she told me
but too truly, that she was incapable of loving
me, but she seemed so far above me, that | felt
in the presence of superior being when listen
ing to her conversation. She seemed to excel
all other women met with, in every virtue
But perceived soon that her health was failing,
and united my influence with that of her Eela-
tlvcs, to induce her to be married, and 90 70 a
milder climate, for the benefit of her health
After she had consented to the arrangement,
believe she wrote to you. She failed so gradu-
ally for the next two weeks that her family scarce
ly perceived any change: but to me it seemed a
fearful case. | exerted all the skill possessed
in trying to stay the disorder, and obtained the
advice of the best physicians in the country,
with the most unavaiiing effect. l watched the
first appearance of the color in her cheek
with the saddest forebodings, while others said
she looked better. called one afternoon some
two weeks since, and was soon left alone with
the invalid.
"Henry,' said she, looking up suddenly at
mo tsorn
gagement!'
"Dear Miss Lessing, do you really wish it!'
| asked.
She replied, eyes, I do feel the affection
and regard of friend for you, but it is not right
for me to promise to re your wife,
Gift will give you pleasure, dear Alice,
freely release you from any engagement to me-
So do not let the subject pain you more, for you
are entirely free from any promise to me-
She appeared grateful indeed for my acques-
cence, and more cheerful than had seen her
tor some time. | strove, and successfully, to
prevent her seeing that it caused me pain, for
the idea that she had wounded my feelings
would have injured her; for was already aware
that there was no probability that she ever would
be my wife, for | saw but too we'll that the grave
must soon receive her. but it was painful, bitter
ly so, to be assured that held no place in her
heart.
"But will not dwell on my own feelings, at
that time, said DR.. A, and proceeded to tell
me all she had said respecting myself, at subse-
quent interviews; how she had prayed for me,
for my conversion from sin; and exacted a prom
Use from him that he would pray for me, and urge
upon me the Importance of securing my own
salvation. In a trembling voice he described
her happy, triumphant death; and then, in words
that thrilled my very soul, he spoke of the happy
state of the blest in another and far better world
then kneeling by that grave side he prayed
ferventy tor me, 'that the light of gospel truth
might burst in all its glory upon my soul; that
might see the error of sin and turn to God, live
to his glory, and when Iife's weary Journey
should be over, that IN the mansions Of the re-
deemed, with those | had loved here, 1 might
sing his praises for ever and ever
We parted there returned to Mr. We'll
ston's to spend the night, but sleep fled far from
me. The pale, sweet face Of Alice Lessing,
she lay in that white lined coffin, was before me,
and her dying message seemed written in letters
of fire upon my heart; then like n panorama,
the scenes OF my life seemed to pass before me;
and again the clear earnest tones Of the prayer
| had heard, rang in my ear, and those snowy
grave-stones and nesting trees around me;
then, changing, the soft, sad voice of my dying
mother, raised in supphcation to God, that he
would ''takc her only one, her orphan boy, under
ais protection, and guard him from the snares
Of temptation' l seemed to hear again.
The next knew, it seemed that deepest dark
ness epshrouded me. | tried in vain to recall
those words Of prayer; no word could I remem-
Der; and the faces of my mother and dear Alice,
it seemed as if pail of dense darkness had shut
them forever from my view. The almost sufFo-
eating horror of that night no words can des-
crbe, but l remember rising in the morning with
sort of pain~al through my body and limbs;
have an indstinct remembrance of hard tire
som Journey then for some time all is lost to me,
but they told me that reached my boarding
place in burning teavor, and that for two weeks
my recovery seemed almost hopeless.
1t is enough to say recovered, with chang
ed heart and purpose. 1 resigned my place as
editor, and have since been exerting what talant
possess in trying to spread the truths of Di-
vine revelation. -ne
| Let me add that some few years subsequent
to the events have related, in the city where
had established myself, CHANGED to meet my
pious friend, DR.. Atherton. He invited me to
his home, and in the gentle lady he presented
as his wife, recognized Mary Welston. Their