The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1853-06-02

In my whole life, | had acquired no knowledge
which could give me an understanding Of my
present embarrassing position and the element
in his character which could have won me to
adapt myself to its necessities was entirely
wanting. Cares were coming fast upon me,
looming up before me like black clouds, shut
ting away from my sight the free, clear light
which God might have given me. Farther off,
and uDattsinable, seemed the realization Of my
best hopes--the better, more congenial life for
which yearned For loves sake, could have
borne anything; but there were no soothing
words for memo hands to help me, as the
surging waters rose higher and higher about
me; and struggled, and bufeted, and yielded
to them alone.
81 can hardly tell how it was, nov. / should
have had more patience more faith; but
where should | look Cor help, who had never
been taught either the one or the other In
tho absence Of everything which might have
made life tolerable, reflected and remember
cd. | remembered, with reverent alteration,
the man who had blest my youth; and, as
went forward into the darkness, dearer became
the light which had been mine in the past
The freshness Of feeling which should have
survived my youth, had left me forever. The
dear old days Of my childhood seemed to me
far, far away--so far as to have left in my soul
only the impression Of a brief, beautiful dream
Green fields and pleasant woodlands of nv
spring time they were scared and dead now,
in the chill, desolating autumn. They would
never bloom for me more
"Day after day went by--days in which life
ives weary load which | dared not cast
aside--but staggered on, with bleeding feet
and beaded brow, for while hoping against
hope, at last lifting my eyes despairingly to the
long, long way before.
"To you, my child, these may seem the yaga-
ries of maniac but to me they are terribly
real, for they made me what am The mad
ness of despair is not the result Of an impul-
sive passionate hour it is the work of years
OF fretting torturing years Even the child
which God had given me did not rouse me to
effort for its sake, though in my loneliness
gave it a twolold affection. Spare me the de-
tail the evil spirit which was irresistbly i'm
polling me onward, was triumphant over the
good.
DAT nightfall, on one of those days, sat
down with my child in a shady pook of the
forest which had been the haunt of my earlier
years. There had watched the sun set over
the lake, but never 80 gorgeousiy as now.
wondered why God had placed such beauty so
mockngly over the desolate world wondered
if Louis Liaume could see me now, and why he
did not help me-the man whose gentle kind
illness had become o sleepless memory, the one
light of my life!
"My heart rose rebelliously against my des-
tiny. would walk out into tho shining waters,
and let them roll over me and my child and
shut away from my sight forever, the joyless
UorlA 4 nnnld saak tharo tba bo,u.x 10 10
so loved and blessed me. went out far out.
into tho water, until but step lay between
me and him. But step, did say! Oh! had
been sure Of ths-had been sure that it
would not hsvo removed me from him. hope
the Lethe of my life. Although destitute Of
hope, ! had still a fcar--perhaps | should Say
a consciousness in the warfare Of nv lift
had not done we'll | had been cowardly
guilty; | dared not die. But, my child, m,
child--who should hinder me! ] would liz
her up from the abyss into which had fallen
to the pure, bright heaven above me--not tn
destiny which had doomed me should hold m
back A strange, bitter fearlessness was il
my heart did it daringly, defantly. | la
her down in the still water. as firmly as though
il had been her cradle, and smiled mockip el,
in the face of the azure sky and golden cloud
above me for none had stayed me from giving
her back to dwell among them | turned
away to the shore, and watched the golden
hucs Of the sunset fade away from the mount.
aims over the lake In my childhood. with an
earnest, wondering faith, | had thought them
the Detachable Mountains, from whose radiant
SUBMITS the Pilgrim looked over the Dark Val.
ley to the land of Beulah, and farther on, until
| he thought he saw the very gate of the Celes.
tial City, and some Of the glory of the place
How changed the vision now, as turned from
| it to tho sky above, and wondered if there were
such a city, lost to me forever Oh how yearn.
ingy could ! have looked toward it-how re-
jolcingly, with my spirit sight, beheld it among
the clouds-had there been hand to have
pointed me unto it
81 waited until the stars came out in tho
still heaven, and | said, dc6antly There is
none to harm but me, and have no fear 1t
was the iearlcssness Of despair.
81 remember the trial The little, rigid
form caught by the frock in some shrubbery
bending over the lake, had risen up against me-
strange thrill ran through my heart, rs
heard the plea of the defence, that was in
sane-a subject of the mercy of the court
Utb 10 IL iucJOy WHlCn EiNSo UP
the victim to be maddened by the rcproaches
of the world Even then | might have been
saved; but there was not one Of the stern
judges Of my crime-not one of all that crowd
of uplifted, ghastly faces, to look kindly and
pityingly upon me; not one to utter the sooth-
ing words Of charity and sympathy for heart
which was yearning and breaking Tor the old
tenderness which had blessed its childhood.
L. A. L.. ID Il.
e. and chains. Do you know they chain me
sometimes and strong men bring me food,
warily, as though were fierce beast, to be
shut away from the world-away from human
sympathies Ha! do you see the high grated
windows, 40 deep that can get no GLIMPSE Of
the blue, bright sky Ia my anger, lost the
for years ! shrieked and rayed, and strug-
gled madly against my prison walls Wild,
CHASTITY faces swan through the dim light and
about my room and at night pressed my face
close to the grating and shouted to the fends;
and strange, hooking voices answered me out
of the darkness"
at is oil over now--the stormy struggle OF
my wasted life. Dim and distant--remember
only as troubled dream-are they becoming
20 me n0w-tnese years Oh winch can Tell you
no more Tho waves have swept me on, and
on, until, weary with buffeting the tempest and
the sprayI am cast helpless and dying, upon
the shore. The storm has died away only
lift my eyes, yearningly, beseecbingly, to the
clear ky above mel lift my weary arms to-
ward i'll remember that the Son of the
Blessed is very pitiful.'
Visions Of my childhood melt my heart 10
tenderness, and there comes back TO me, sooth-
ingly, the fresh dewiness Of life's spring. But
I have no regret that they are past. remem-
Der, more than all, green grave in the church
yard, with the weeping elms bending low above
It, and the violcts Of May blossomng in their
shadow. kindler heart was never laid be-
meath the greensward-a truer soul never went
up from It's earthly habitation ~ the dwelling
place Of God. You will bury me there my
child. God bless you for the words. You will