The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1851-01-09

Ing FEVER OF loug marches
But through all this painful season, there was
one fond, brave heart ever near him-one friend
faithful and strong in love mightier than mad
ness or death, who stood beside him in minister
ing kindness, or bent above him in prayerful
watching. La hours of complete prostration,
when the soul Of the sufferer slept dull, lethar-
gic sleep, and all others despaired there was one
who still hoped-whose fast faith would not give
way and in those hours of frenzy when his own
mother shrunk from him 10 fear, that gentle, yet
courageous one would fix her soft, mild eyes upon
his, with divine spell of loving power and the
wondrous soothing sweetness of her voice Gained
the mad tumult in his brain, as the voice of the
Prince of Peace once stilled the tempest and
smoothed the face of the sea.
As Herbert slowly recovered, he was like a
child in his unquestioning submission to Marga-
ret, and in his dependence upon her for courage
| and consolation But after while, as memory
| returned, and everything came back to him, he
began to shrink with shame and self-reproach
| from her kindness . To find himself thus reduced
to be an object of mere benevolent intsrest-to
have her thus compassionate aud care for him,
| in the angelic charity Of her nature, after she
had ceased to love him, was indeed the bitterest
drop in the bitter cup he had been called upon to
drain. He pOndered long, sadly, and with burn
ing cheeks, upon this, and as day after day he
walked slowly up and down his chamber, leaning
on the arm of his friend Mr. Mcdonald, he
would sternly resolve to leave the hospitable roof
of Mr. Neale, and to no longer tax the generous
kindness of Margaret's forgiying heart. But as
day after day there would come gentle rap at
his door and Margaret would enter, to inquire
after mis- neaish, fas'cheerful, cordial tone-or to
bring him some delicacy prepared by her own
hapds-ors basket of fresh fpwers-or TO read
to him from q new book, or passages frsm the
poets who had been fsvorites with them both in
the dear old tme-what wonder that his brave
resolves failed him, were utterly forgotten
In those sweet mornings, as he reclined on his
luxurious sofa, when the cold light Of the winter
sunshine fell upon him pleasantly, as warmed by
passing through curtains of rose, with his head
leaning on his mothers shoulder, clasping her
thin white hand in one still thinner and whittier,
but with his dark, deep eyes fixed on another
face than hers, and with the silver waves of that
delicious voice flowing over his heart and soul
all what wonder that he had not strength with
which to 20 forth from the Paradise into which
he had crept shivering and sick, forlorn and bro
ken hearted But fercer and more incessant
grew the struggle in his breast until summoning
all his courage, and nerving himself with true
pride he thus wrote to Margaret:
"My Best AND DEAREST FRIEND: | know that
should crave forgiveness for once again address,
ing you but on your generosity you have taught
me to rely with perfect trust, which you will
not harshly construe into presumption.
81 must leave you, Margaret, now that am
so much better. must return with my mother
to our cottage home, and no longer be tax on
the kindness Of your friends, or subject you to
observation and idle remark, or myself to the
charge Of unmanly dependence.
81 proudly left the mistress of my heart. |
resigned, for a time her love, bestowed upon me
freely in the wondrous benefcence of her great
nature, for the mad chance of winning a dis
tinction with which might claim it as an equal
and return, long after she has ceased to love
me, return poor and unknown, to be the recip-
lent of her bounty, the object of her charities
| to owe to her my very life. Is not the measure
of my humiliation full2 Is not my penance ac-
complshed2 Do not say write bitterly there
| is no bitterness in all my soul towards you. |
accept my punishment with the more meekness,
almost with joy, that it comes at last from hand
so beloved.
"For all your angelic goodness ! dare not at
| 20 than hos lap0
through which to convey to your heart the graft
tude of mine. But it will find its way to you, in
hours of loneliness and silence, and breathe into
your spirit its deep, inarticu late blessing-the
blessing of one ready to perish-lifted by your
hand from an abyss of humiliation and despair into
the light and hope of better life. Yes, dear Mar
garet, higher and worthier course than have
yet pursued seems opening before me. am re-
solved to put down forever that imperious and
arrogant ruling spirit pride, and to set my foot on
that glded form of selfsbness called ambition
for to these did not sacrifice Heavens divinest
good, life's most inestimable blessing2 Hence
forth will speak and act more boldly and ar
IDENTIFY for the great principles of the age, for
Justice and freedom, and every form and mani
festation of Gods eternal ruth, without hope of
favor and without fear of the world. cannot
now conceive of any honor or reward which could
tempt me to renounce faith, or a purpose, how
ever unpopular it might be, which had once re-
ceived into my heart-or Of that degree of moral
cowardice which would cause me to shrink from
the advocacy Of the right, were hosts arrayed
against it. Dear Margaret, is it not something
to have come to this, even through my sore dis
appointment humiliation, and suffering, from
that dark time when went forth discrowned of
your love, hopeless, reckless, and defiant
aThe hardship and sickness which have broken
down my physical constitution, taken the youth
full glow from my cheek and the light from my
eve. and rendered me the wreck and shadow OF
my former self, have, hope In all humility, given
health to my spirit and more enduring strength
to my character. | have been taught deeper
reverence for woman, a higher estimate, more
adoring worship Of love-even that love, that
pearl Of great price which ], like perverse
and reckless child, flung from me into sea, which
rendered not back from its still depths the treas
ure Of my impoverished love.
"Dear Margaret, I was never worthy Of your
love. loved you too passionately and htfully
At one moment would bow before you with the
alteration Of q devotee-and the next, stand over
you with folded arms and imperious brow re-
belled against the dominion Of your love, when
! should have resigned myself to it as to an an
gelic influence sent TO surround me with an at
mosphere Of truth, and peace, and real greatness
| should have seen that, in bestowing 1t upon me
you lifted me above the low breath Of the world
and made me your companion and your peer.
should have felt through all my soul, that he