Marshall County Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1855-1859, 1856-04-10

| ed the conversation. She was prepared for
r it.
In vain did he argue, and beseech, and
| implore. Her mind was fixed, she did
: not love him except as the dear friend OF
many years. She would be kind to him
and would love him, just the same al
ways, but he must not ask for anything
more.
That evening he wrote to her long,
mad letter, full of all his love, and ended
all with saying that he could not be her
friend; he must be her husband, or never
; see her again on this earth. There was no
} other future for him, and he left her to
| pronounce the decree of their eternal sep
n aration.
And it came in the letter from which !
have given the extract
He was the son of the village clergyman
"a poor man, but one of the excellent Ct
, the earth, and the fast friend of Colonel
Pierson from youth. Some said they were
natives of the same village on Long Is
land, and they certainly had been boys to-
gether at school. Philip had no prospects
but his intellect, and no future except such
as he was to carve out for himself.
The Colonel had never viewed his init
macy with Mary with any dislike, and it
would have been the pleasantest day of his
life, that on which he should give his
daughter to the son of his friend.
But-be it said without reproaching her,
and let no one form an evil opinion of Ler
} for it--there was in the heart of Mary Pier
son great ambition, which she had never
confessed to herself and none else ever
dreamed of. In her silent hours of thought
she was given to building castles in the air,
such as few madens build. 1t was not of
, beauty and its power, or of the homage it
, could command, that she dreamed. 1t was
not of wealth and magnifcence, nor of any
/ Of the ordinary limits of female desire
But she looked to the power of a queen.-
She was not content with the life of low
!, ing woman, reigning in one heart and one
circle, nor yet with the realm of beauty and
wealth, which were all her own. But Sc
cretly, unknown even to herself she was
filling her brain with pictures of the most
unsubstantial sort, and wasting the present
and its joys in fancies about what could
never be realized.
l do not wish to be understood as saying
that she indulged herself in any fixed plans
or thoughts Of such a future. | wish dis
tinctly to explain that all these thoughts
were but unbidden fancies, which had their
day and vanished, to be succeeded by others
as wild and unreal, and that she let them
come. Her error was in not forbidding
them. Many who read this will understand
what mean, and how with all these strange
fancies forming the under-current of her
thoughts and life, she was nevertheless a
very gentle, very lovely woman.
But she rejected Philip Winslow, and it
was because she thought she did not love
him. She would not have believed any
her love for him calmly and steadily, and
weighed it in her secret soul against those
wild fancies and ambitious views; and vet
she did just so, and she could not strive as
she would, she could not believe that she
loved him well enough to be his humble
wife.
For to-day, for tomorrow, for this little
while just before her it would be delicious
She almost sprang into his arms as she
thought of it. But after that, and for long
lfe-just the calm. steadfast life of his
wife and nothing more-she could not be-
lieve that was her destiny.
But enough with motives and let us pro-
ceed with our story.
The week after that letter was written
Philip Winslow was on the sea. Here are
extracts from two letters, written year
later:
Has year produced any change? 1t
is vain to conceal the simple truth from
you, Mary, that am miserable lonesome
without the hope of your love, and do not
see before me one spot so bright as the light
that shines through my grave. have be-
lievcd that you loved me. have convinced
myself that l cannot be mistaken | have
hoped against all your calm assurances
And now, once more, and for the last time,
| come and ask for love. Give give! or /
perish,'
Her reply:
Il said forever Philip, and it must be so.
You are right in believing that | love you.
/ was wrong in saying that did not love
YOU But do not love you as You wish |
We can never be more than friends. For
give me, Philip, if l sadden you again
You would not let it rest as it was. 1t
must ever be so. Seek no further TO change