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


on his face or the glow of the heart suffu-
sing it, know not, but never saw his
usually pale features more radiantly light.
ed up than al that moment. A letter was
brought to him. & leaned over his should.
ers while he opened it, From the first
line understood its import: it was the re.
alzation OF my hopes. The offer was
there made--more splendid, more liberal
rhan dared to anticipate. | did not
speak. but with cheeks burning and hands
trembling with eagerness and Joy, / waited
till he had perusedit: lie stIl continued
silent. Almost indignant at his calmness,
| calculated his name in an impatient tone;
when he raised his eyes from the paper
and fixed them on me. read there
death blow Of all my hopes. They emit.
ted no glance of triumph; there was sor-
row, regret, humility, and love-but I
looked in vain for more IL am sorry fop
this" said he, ''for your sake, my dear 8
Mary. 1t may excite wishes, which can
never be realized No! let US be happy
in the lowlier sphere, in which an All-wise
Being has marked my course. | cannot
devate from it" "Cannot" repeated l:
"say rather, you will not" | could not
articuate more. The possibility Of retn. :
sal on his part had never occurred to me- y
L was thunderstruck He saw my emotion
land losing all his colnposure, rose and
crushed the letter in his hand 81 could
not, it'll would, accept this" he cried;
land, were my own wishes to be alone
n c1lfaI /! Md ~ -
But it is not so. am bound 10 this place, :
by solemn promise, which cannot be
broken. Here, in this very house it was r
made, by the dying bed of the righteous,
who bequeathed the people he loved to my
charge-me, the orphan he had protected
and and reared 'Never leave them my,
son. said the expiring sant-'never leave
the lambs of my flock to be scattered on
the mountains lpledged my word, sur.
rounded by the solemnities of death; yea. Z
even while his soul was taking its upward
flight. tits recorded. and cannot be re- d
called. ."laI,3 aisf5 III afts II
Did | feel the sacredness of the obliga.
ton he revealed? Did Ivenerate the sane.
tity of his motives, and admit their author.
ity! No! Totally unprepared for such
a bitter disappointment, when touching
the summit of all my wishes. was mad
tdened--reckless | upbraided him for
having more regard for dead guardian, -
who could no longer be affected by his, Z
decision, than for living wife. threat- u
ened to leave himtothe obscurity in which d
he was born, and return to the friends
who loved me so much better than himself.
Seeing him turn deadly pale at this, and
suddenly put his hand on his heart, I
thought | had discovered the spring to
move his resolution, and determined that 3
| would not let go. moved towards the
door, thinking it best to leave him short
time to his own reflections, assured that
love must be victorious over conscience. /.
He made motion as if to detain me, as !
passed-then again pressed his hand on n
his heart That silent motion--never, j
never can forget it, 'Are you resolved
on thls!" asked he, in low, very hoarse
tone Of voice. ''Yes, if you persist in I.
your refusal. leave you to decide"
went into the next room. heard him !,
walk few moments, as if agitated and ir. 4,
reso!ute-then suddenly stop. then
heard low, suppressed cough, but to this i
ne was always subject, when excited, and
it caused no emotion. Yet, after remain. !
ing alone for some time, began to be !
alarmed at the perfect stiffness. A strange u
feeling ofhorror came overmc. Iremem. +
bered the deadly paleness of his counte. 4
nance, and the, cold dew gathered fast i.
and thick on my brow. lrecollected, too.
that he had told me of once having bled AZ
the lungs, and ofbeing admonshed to shun \
every predisposing cause to such maladvs /.
Strange, that after such an entire obliy- &,
ion Of every thing but SELF these reflections 4
should have passed upon me, with such I,
power, at that moment. seemed sud.
denly gifted with second sight, and feared
to move, lest ] should seethe vision of my
conscience embodied. At length, aunt
Debby opened the door, and for the first
time, rejoicing in her sight, entreated
ler to 60 into the library, with an earnest
ness that appalled, her, She did 90, and
Ter first sharp scream drew me to her side. 3
There, reclined upon the sofa, motionless. 4
ifeless-his face white as snow-drifi, lav s /
ny husband; his neck-cloth and vest saf- rys
lrated with the blood that still flowed from n
lis lips. Yes, he lay there---lifeless, dead. 81
lead! The wild shrek of agony and re. i,
morse pierced not his unconscious ear
lie was dead and his murderer. Tbe "a
MUSICIAN who was summoned, pronouno-
d my doom. From violent agitation of sJ
mind, a blood vessel had been broken. s4t
nd instant death had cnsued. Weeks ~ !,
'enzy, months Of despair, succeeded--ofj i
lack despair. Nothing but an almighty ID
rm thrown around my soul, held me back 8
rom the brink of suicide. Could / have VI
elieYed in annjhilation-and | wrestled !,
nth the powersof reason to convince nv ta
elf that in the grave, at least should a
nd rest. prayed but for rest--I pray-
d for oblivion. Night and day the ;rpayv