The Abbeville banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1847-1869, 1851-04-19

The Graves Of those We Love.
by WASHINGTON IRVING.

by WASHINGTON IRVING.
The grave is the ordeal of true affection.
1t is there the divine soul manifests its supe-
riority to the instructive impulse of mere
animal attachment. The latter must be
continually refreshed and kept alive by the
presence Of its object, but the love that is
seated in the soul can live on long remem-
brance. The mere inclinations of sense,
languishing and declining with the charm
that excites them, turn with shuddcring and
disgust from the dismal precincts of the
tomb; but it is thence that truly spiritu-
al affection rises purified from every sensu-
al desire, and returns, like Il holy flame to
ilIumine and sanctify the heart of tile sur
vivor.
The sorrow for the dead is the only sor-
row from which we refuse to be divorced.
Every other wound we seek to heal-every
other affliction we forget; but this wound
we consider it n duty to keep open-the
Affections we cherish and brood over in SOL
itude. Where is the mother who would
willingly forget the infant that pcrished like
blossom from her arms, though every rec
election is pang2 Where is the daughter
who would willingly forget the most tender
of parents, though to remember, be but to
lamenta Who, even in the hour Of agony,
would forget the friend over which lie
mourns! Who, when the tomb is closing
upon the remains of her he most loved,
when he feels his heart, rs it were, crushed
in the closing Of its portal, would accept of
consolation that must be brought by forget
fulness.
No; the love which survives the tomb is
one of the noblest attributes of the soul.
If it has woes, it likewise has its delights,
aud w!:s:: tie !:sosssss.g3he!mins q e. burst of grief
IS calned into the gentle tear of rcc0iiea:
tioS; when the sudden anguish and the
contulsve agony is over, the present ruins
OF tll that we most loved, is softened away
into pensive meditations on all that it was
in tho days of its lovclincss---who would
root out such a sorrow from the heart 2
lilodgh 1t may sometimes throw passing
cloud over the bright hour of ga,ity, or
sFsead fasideels sedaess, ,ovss theSh6uYsof
ginpu lsowoald dsnehanse eise,Susosshe
seg 0Paeeaass oEsheabarst ofreYAsyssNoc
ssrais.n Ese< tIs,sa.tLe tgaab awsessr, ,azs.,;i
s0tgse sEesehis,s xasAsMhraaespsf Ala desi1,
towhfeh ne fesn- even. .fnoGn .fhAashassns &c
TIP living. Oh, the gravo!-the grave |!
ltburies every error-coveis every dcfact-
eStinguishes every resentment. From its
peaceful bosom springs none but fond regret
and tender recollection. Who can look
down upon the grave of TN enemy, and not
feel a compunctive throb, that he had tven
warred with the poor handful of earth that
lies moldering before him.
But the grave of those We loved-what
a place of meditation! There it is that we
call up in long review the whole history of
virtne and gentleness, and the thousand en-
dowments lav.shcd upon us almost unleed-
cd IN the daily intercourse of intimacy :;
there it is that the tenderness of the parting
scene, the bed of death! with all its stiHed
g'iefs, its noiseIess attendance, its mute,
watcllful assiduitics, the last testimonials Of
OF expiring love! the feeble, Auttering, thrill.
,ng-oh how thrilling-pressurc of the
hand! the last fond look OF tho gazing eve,
turning upon us even from the Threshold of
existence! !! the faint faltering accents, struc-
Cling in death to give one moro assurance
Of affection.
Ay, 60 to the grave of buried love and
mediate! There settle the account with
thy conscience for every past benefit unrc-
Quilted, every past cndearment unregarded,
OF that departed being who can never-ney-
or return to be soothed by the contriton.
If thou art n child, and hast ever added
sorrow to tile soul, or fi,rrow to the silver
brow of an affectionate parent; if thou art
a husband, and hast ever caused the fond
bosom, that has venturetl its whole happi-
ness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of
thy Kindness or thy truth if thou art a
friend, and hast ever wronged in thought or
word, or deed, the spirit that generously con-
hded in thee-if thou art lover, and hast
ever given ono unmcrited pang to that true
heart which now lies cold and still beneath
thy feet, then be sure that every unkind
look, every ungracious word, every ungen-
teel action, will como thronging back upon
the memory, and knocking doiefulIy at thy
soul, then be sure that thou wilt lie down
sorrowing and repenting on the grave, and
utter the unleard groan, and pour the un-
availlng tcar-more deep, more bitter, be-
cause unheard and unavailing.
Then weave the chaplet Of flowers, and
strow the beauties Of nature about tho grave.
console thy broken spirit, if thou canst, with
those tender yet fertile tributes of regret,
and take warning by the bitterness of this,
by contrite afiiiction over the dead, and
henceforth be more faithful and affectionate
in the discharge Of thy duties to the living
A ROLAND FOR AN OLzIER.-Whcn Gen.
eral OgIethorpe, then youth of fifteen, was
serving under Prince Eugene, q prince of
Wrtemberg, who sat at table, took = glass of
wine and tillipped some Of into @ Oglethorpes
face. Oglethoipe, cnpwillingto to be thought
hasty and irascible, waited his opportunity,
and then said, "Prince, that was q good
joke but We doit much better in England, .
and tbrewga whole glass in the princss face.
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