New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-01-24

had resisted all entreaties TO wear any rich
attire, and was dressed III simple white muslin.
white rose in my bosom, and another in INV
hair wore no ornaments.
In the retiring room Of the temple. We found
several gentlemen, the warnlest atnanc o14r neuv
friends, awaiting Us, A ps!nfal anTiefy WI
depicted in their faces FslI might thev hare
wondered at the almost stony calrnness Of fnine.
They told me that the tcraple yas crowded with
one Of the most fas'1i1laole audiences ever M.
sernbled within its walls They entreated me
to retain my self possession, and poured in to nv
ears words Of sympathy and announcement.
which, in the abstraction Of the moment, /
scarcely heard.
They remained with us until the clock strack
half-pas seven, the hour at which was an
nounced to appear. 6 Do not keep the audience
Waiting Bostonians dislike nothing more %
sald MT: F---s, as ne shook my hand, aud, nc
companled by the other gentlemen, left the room
to take his seatin the temple
Two minutes more and T WAS within y;avr of
the audience Mr.. Mowatt led Tae 10 tbe Soot IF
the rostrum, but | ascended the steps alone
remember courtesying slightly, half stunned by
tne repeated rounds Of applause the blaze Of
light, the dense crowd Of faces, ali turned to-
wards me. sat down by the table that held
my books, and mechanically opened the one
rom winch was to read. / rose with 1t in nv
hand Again came the bursts of applause. the
/
could not see the book that held in my hand
---my viens were filed with ice---I seemed tn
myself transformed into statue Although I
still stood, could not, for few seconds, have
been more unconscious in state of complete in
anition
The opening piece had selected was the in
PRODUCTION to scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel.
and the first words had to utter we're
The way waslong. the wind was .oIdn
could deliver the line feelingly, indeed, for
was shivering violently, and weary and long
seemed the way had just entered
| At length, in an uncertain voice, / commenced
TO read. Long before had half finished the
poem, my self possession returned, genial
warmth displaced the icy chilli, my voice grew
ioua and clear, and found it easy to divest my
sen OF all consciousness of the audience 1 be-
gan siso e become accustomed to the applause,
| Hhich at nfsl oppressed and frightened me I
| went thTougn the various selections in order,
and without betraying any further emotion
When hah the entertainment was over there
vas On lntermlssion Of ten minutes, and was at
liberty to Withdraw into the RETIRING roona
There was greeted by host Of friends ali
loud in their congratulations, and a note from
NY faithful ally, Mrs. B--s, told me Of the
delight Of her party, and assured me of my per-
feet success
With renewed spirit 1 reascended the res
trum, and read the concluding poems with az
| HUGH ease az SHOULD nave done to select par
| ty Of friends in my own drawing room
AT the hotel, fresh assembIage awaited me.
| l was overwhelmed with new Congratulations,
and prophecies of brilliant career-a career
that would accomplish all that had 50 much at
heart. My deep joy transported me to the
grape-hung bower. 1 stood there in thought,
exclaiming, g our home is secured; am mis-
| tress here still p L Nj 5,7
1t was past midnight before our visitors took
their leave, and allowed me to retire When I
was once more alone, when my full heart could
offer up its grateful thanks, could weep again.
What woman does not know the delicious relief
of tears-the terrible privation when the eyes
remain burning and unmoistened through suf-
fering and trial They were the first tears I
had shed since the day when / was told of the
complete wreck of our fortunes. The future
now seemed SO bright before me, that, in my ig-
norance of the world, ] anticipated NO difficult.
ties, no drawbacks, no rebutfs saw but roses
in the pathway of life's journey. I had yet to
learn that sharp-edged fiints are scattered On
the road, to lacerate the feet Of those who walk
not in the trodden Was. Mrs. Mowatts Au-
tobiography.