American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1851, 1851-11-01

lhDorSi anu tolu HeT tHlt Ill ue Hdu was ner 3!
Ridgely spent the night in the town upon the
side Of the river opposite to his own home.
Before daybreak, the next morning, he had
crossed the river, and was before his own door,
enjoying in anticipation his daughters surprise
at his unexpected return.
The earliness of the hour would satisfactorily
account for the stiffness which reigned about,
but there was an air of desertion that filled our
hero's bosom with solemn forebodings. No
"honest watch-dog's bark bayed deep mouthed
welcome, as he drew near home" The grass
had grown tall and rank in his door-yard. The
pathways bore not the trace of a footprint.
Not spiral curl from the chimney, nor a house
hold implement left negligently without, de-
| noted the vicinity of human beings, and their
| temporary repose from the cares of busy life.
| His loud knock resounded through the house,
and brought no reply, save its own echo. After
many Intellectual endeayors to gain admission,
the traveller turned away in despair, his bosom
racked with anxious fears. He soon reached q
neighbours house, where a melancholy tale
awaited him.
Shortly after the father had left home al
ready stored with every luxury, for the purpose
of adding to his overgrown wealth, his daughter,
the object of his superfuous care, had begun
visibly to decline Week after week she withered
like flower, and it soon became too evident
that pitiless consumption had marked her for
his prey. Her physicians recommended So
journ in a milder climate, as the only alterna-
tive to certain death.
But where was he who should have cherished
the dropping foweret, and have borne her to q
land of brighter skies and balmer breezes?
After O time, when her case had become hope
less, and the 'kiss of death was plainly stamped
| upon her cheek, she removed from her lonely
mansion to the iresde of q kind neighbor
Here, month after month, she languished slowly
wasting away, until shortly before her fathers
return she died.
1t was for her that the solemn bell was toll
ing, whose tones had fallen SO mournfully upon
his ear. The funeral procession which he had
noted was following her remains to their last
resting place.
Thus were the long cherished hopes Of Aaron
Ridgely blasted in an hour. He had toiled for
years with undaunted energy-he had enslavcd
his soul to degrading passion-he had sacri-
| feed honor, virtue, and peace, and forgotten
| the existence of world beyond the grave. And
| behold the result. The stroke was greater
| than he could bear. For weeks he trembled
upon the brink of the grave; reason tottered
upon her throne, and it was feared that she
would desert her seat forever.
In his madness he called loudly upon death
to end his despair, and more than once the
knife was wrested from his suicidal grasp.
He recovered, to remain the melancholy vic
tim of incurable remorse he saw that God,
in his wrath, had gratifed to the utmost his
accurscd thirst for gold he believed that the
removal of the cherished object for whom he
| had laid his ayaricious schemes was judg-
ment upon his ingratitude and forgetfulness of
| Him who had so abundantly favored his labors.
He thought that his daughters life might
have been prolonged had he been near to carry
her to a SUMMER cline, and so he laid the bur-
den of her death upon his soul.
The scene of his affiiction became hateful to
him, and yet an irresistible attraction drew him
frequently to the graves Of his wife and child.
He wandered restlessly about, constantly return
ing to the little spot of earth where all his hopes
lay buried. His wealth became an insupport-
able burden. The curse of God was upon it.
He gave large sums in charity; yet bis benef-
cence brought him no peace. Sometimes he
attended the ministrations of Gods house, but
his soul found no comfort even there-his heart
was too hard to be touched by the truths of the
gospel, and his thoughts wandered wildly from
his chest Of gold to the graves upon the hill
side. He sought no society--he even Stunned
the approach of his fellow creatures, and lived
alone, communing with his own misery, the most
utterly wretched and hopeless of mortals. And
he sought the maddening excitement of strong
drink and the gaming table, but he found in
them not even a temporary oblivion.
The remainder of his career is soon told. In
a frenzied moment he Joined, under feigned
name, the devoted band who enlisted for the
liberation of Cuba-and he "died as he had
liyed!"