Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-01-18

She could not endure the thought Of min
Cling again with the thoughtless, for her
delicate nature would shrink from the look
Of pity, and would wther beneath the look |
Of scorn and we'll she knew that both would
be directed towards her-desert;on being
almost as sure mark of degradation as sin
and shame, in vulgar Rinds-the envious
would rejoice. and the malicious triumph.
knew that she had only little while to
live, and wrote to Robert s. re-
proachful letter, such as thought one de-
served who had thus trihed with and tram
pied upon such heart.
He answered it; but he did not try 10
palliate his guilt. He was married, and
silence was his duty, now; and any express
sion of sympathy or regret would be only
mockery.
l prepared the way for conveying this
intelligence to Amelia, as we'll as [ could,
knowing that I could not soften it in any
way, so that it would not prove the death
blow, yet still thinking it best not to with
hold the stroke.
The fountain Of her tears had long been
dry, and [ hoped this would bid them gush
forth again [ even dared to hope that
something like scorn and hatred might be
fostered in her bosom. This can be done
when only fancy or passion has existed !;
but anything like revenge, or wish to in
jure, can never occupy the place true love
has once usurped in a noble heart
She had fingered through the summer,
and faded with the flowers, yet she was not
confined to her bed and every day I read
toho., lsu-ioF -5eFrl2. ~
wood-those wild vines and bloss6E53 Which
she had so loved in health and tried to
cheer her with the hope of again enjoying
the pleasures of life. But this she did not
desire she had put her trust in Heaven,
and would talk of being reeonciled to live,
and the hope of being useful, if God saw
fit to keep her yet little longer in the
world; but death was the messenger she
longed to meet, and she did not doubt Of
happiness in Heaven.
The iron had entered too deep for the
wound to heal-she could not recover from
such a shock. But I had no idea she was
so near her end, and day after day put of
repeating what [ knew must break the last
link that bound her to earth. If [ had re
fectcd little more deeply, [ should have
withheld it.
It was one of those delicious Indian
summer evenings, when even the invalid
needed not to shun the open window, thougf
the golden tinge of Autumn was over al
the hills, when she sat with her wasteC
hand in mine, and both were resting on tht
Bible, that I, for the first time for man,
weeks, alluded to him who had thus wreck
cd her hopes and crushed her heart
There was no bitterness in her words
some mystery, she said; she could not be
lieSe it was deliberate wrong
[ showed her the letter she read
through, folded it, and laid it upon tn
window sill, and said she would like to an
swcr it, if [ would write what she wished t
say.
They were few words, expressive of cor
fidence in his truth for by inspiration sh
seemed to understand what no one else ha
conjectured. She spoke Of suffering, an
of forgiveness-she should soon be in ht
grave but, whilst she lived, her hea
would remain true, and in death there Wou
be no change.
She had ceased to speak, and the sha'
ows of evening we're gathering around u
A cold shuddcr passed over her frame,
single flush crossed her pallid cheek, al
then a dark shadow seemed to settle for
moment upon her brow. [ soon saw it co
cred with the clammy dews which gath
there only when the icy hand of death
upon the heart few hurried and scare
ly audible respirations followed, and h
, spirit had fed, "where sorrow, wrong, al
trouble, can never torture more"
| was left alone with the clay, and cou
not mourn that it was no longer tenante
l pressed the lids upon those eyes viii
: had 50 often beamed upon me with afft
3 ton, left the sad Office of watcher to anot
} er, and sought the solitude of my room,
, weep Gin agony that would not be &C
; trolled" d"-not that she had gone-oh, n
it was merciful to take her away; but
1 wept TO-, the suferings of a fallen world.
It This is the history of many-oh, how ma
hearts
= To the majority of women, love is life
e it is all they have to live for; and wher
= is taken away, they have not, like men
profession, business, travel, and pleasure
IS divert and occupy their minds. 1t is $
h row they can never tell, to seek the heal
(, balm of sympathy-they have only to
ii down and endure.
y Oh, the sin and wrong it is to trife W
l. affection-the purest, holiest, noblest
20 which our Heavenly Father has bestow
e. 1t is the redeeming element in fal
ID world. But the nature which is base
rt nough to deliberately plan the ruin of tt
to ting, loving heart, or so lost as to look v
er difference upon the wreck which falseh
and betrayal have effected, is only fit
O. the companionship of fends and the pri
of darkness.
lg But Robert s. was not one of tn
st had scarcely returned from the SOLE
d, ceremony of consigning dust to dust,
IT, ashes to ashes,' when | was startled by
n entrance of him whom Amelia had he
to see once more and she was scar
re- more changed in the last days before
'ut death, than he seemed as he stood be
pc me.
. / could not welcome him, and shr
ur from the grasp of his hand but he
not subject of envy as he listened to
Ter story of her wrong
ler He besought me to spare my repro
nd es, for he needed pity more than bla
Sc and could not Withhold my compassion
ION I heard the confirmation of the word