The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-01-12

/ with reSgpatl0n.
Tell me what can do, brcther!n | ex-
/ claimed, resolutely.
A hight dawncd in his clear gray eyes, as he
turned upon me-.
WA you do what you can, Ralphau he
/ asked, earnestly.
May Heaven hear and help me. as prom-
! ise!" | returned, solemnly.
/ Do you comprehend what that promise in
veivess dear boy-the giving up of your cher
lsned pursuits, your plans for life9n
II the sacrifice wrench my heart strings,
! EDen, It shall be made for our parents. to
] whom owe all. Tell me wha. to do!U
Ebsn lay in silent meditation for minutes.
At last he began
:" What would have done, Ralph, had this
failure happened three years ago, and left me
/ m the health you enjoy, with the wisdom have
since sadly gained, / viii unfold to you and
1t may IN some degree guide your course
could not have given myself more en-
tirely than l have already done to the busi
ness whichis now at an end But would not
have uasted 90 much
| pressed his hand, and my ewes filled, but
his own were clear, and glazed with bright
ness.
Toll off day and night in the counting house,
bending and reckoning reckoning and bend
ing, from boyhood, have brought my labors to
an early close, brother. Your fate must not
be like mine! | ought to have gone West
would have done it, if | could. | would have
exerted muscle and einew, no less than brain. |
would have strengthened my physical being.
while was giving its energies as well as those of
my mind, to the task before me- Our father will
be a fettered man, until he is once more free
from debt. | know him well--better than any
other, and know he will never have energy
enough to help himself, or rise to his former
standing, until be. feels that this stain CT dis
honor is effaced, until these debts are all hon
orably paid. Our mother, she must know
some years of priyation; let it be your care to
provide her declining years with home once
more comfortable. leave this sacred trust in
your young hands, Ralph! God strengthen
and keep you"
81 accept it, brother, in His strength ~ and
| knelt by the bed of Eben.
That night, deeper gloom than even the de-
spair Of bankruptcy fell upon our stricken
household. The shadow that can only be
lifted in Eternity, lay on that supper cham
ber." Ee6 heart that had crowded lifetime
into nineteen years had ceased to beat and
kept watch beside it
had lived years in that day. | was no
longer boy Dismantling of that bereaved
home, wreck Of boyhood associations, sacri-
lege upon all that was holy in the memories of
Life and Death beneath that roof-why should
dwell upon these, comprised in the dismal
sack of all things preceding the auction
sale!" took my poor weeping mother from
the midst to quiet but humble country home.
My father moved, Ike one in dream, amid
the wreck of his household.
ln week, was on my way westward
Six years; SO | began this chapter. Six
years Of struggle and success go far as the
] air low NHIi | RI cd cd l..
six years CT privation and endurance, as re-
garded my own being, bodily and mentally.
But what rlat:ered that was If the age
to be hopeful, and of the age, too, when stern
| self cont: oil does to discipline the charac-
ter, and temper it rightly for the great war
fare Of life, than seven--yes, or SeUents-
years university course OF mere book study.
@ in two years more" said to myself 81 shall
have reached my goal shall have wiped as
persion from my fathers name, and shall see
him once more at ease, sweeter than the luxu-
ry of the olGen years to his barassed spirit
Then-fcr society again-for the development
and training of this heart, which has laid SO
long dormant in its living casket-and for you
my motherl"
vague uneasiness always coupled itself
with nly memory of that dear parent She
was the only one to give me any detailed news
of the world had left, for my fathers far-be
tween mssives were generally mere business
dispatches. For tie first years, her long sym
pathising letters warmed and cheered me-
though the melancholy spirit that pervadod
them like an atmosphere had its saddcning in-
fl1ence.
The birth of little sister, announced to me
within the FIST year Of my exile, seemed to
Rave q soothing effect upon my mothers ruff
fled mind, though long illness subsequent &c
If Or tn fcot. IN tata cf bau I,
Gradually, however, her letters had become
less frequent and less satisfying. They were
either totally sad or tinctured with q careless
/ ness and feyity that were unlike anything
had ever seen in my mother. But attributed
all her caprices, as had long done, to the &C
count Of certain events of her younger years,
of which | had gathered vague hints My
poor mother had married the man she did moi
love, and terribly Gid her outraged heart avenge
itself upon the will that had bowed too weakly
to circumstance and solicitation.
How was | startled one evening, on reaching
the nearest post ofhce, twenty miles from the
log cabin then was occupying, to receive
/ letter in strange hand, bearing the name of
my parents home imprinted upon it, tore it
open, and read, In the hand of the village pas
! tor
Mr. Ralph Lincoln.
"DEAR SIR: | grieve to state that your es-
teemed father lies very i'll Of typhus fever His
! recovery is considered uncertain. If crcum-
stances render the journey practicable for you,
! | would advise you to come Immediately TO this
! place, not merely for his sake, but for that of
] your mother, whose mind is to say the least,
/ in an exceedingly disturbed state. Accept the
/ sincere sympathy and prayers of your friend,
$500"
/ My father dying! My mother dared not
/ fancy uhdt calamity had fallen upon her head !
| But they needed me that was enough |
! packed my portmanteau, and hurried East
ward with the speed of steam wheels
! Once more on the New England hills. those
! hills of which | had dreamed half the nights
since had left them but their blue outlines
only fell like shadows upon my heart. | had
reached the summit of the last one within my
| Journey Below me lay the village, garlanded
with green, and grit with silvery riband-a
/ river not less beautiful that it is zoo small for
the notice of map-makers
! There stood the low, stone-colored cottage
/ my earnings had helped to buy for the dear
| ones within it; there cleaned the red corner of
the store where my dispirited father bad drag
ged out the last few years, making small gains
! leaned back in the corner of the coach, and
strove to stiil my hearts beating.
The cottage was little way out of the vii
lage ] was set down at its white gate. A
woman passing by, with blue 'kerchief on
| her head, and a bunch of celery on her arm,
leaned over the gate, and watched me silently,
but curiously, as | walked to the house.
A little creature in sky-blue frock, with a
| tangled head glorifed in the sunshine, glded
across the gallery just before stepped upon it,