The Trinity journal., 1856-11-08
Manuscript found in Deserted Cabin

| Ni 9lnli-h JAMIE
1t is seven years tonight since our Ja-
nie' was married. God help me can
scares bear to breathe her name in these sol
itudcs, although every syllable of that name
rings in my cars like familiar melody of
oldcn times. tits seven years, exactly, since
they inundated her young heart on the al
tar of Mammon and give her to the gorgon,
in whose embrace she has turned to dust.
Here is her last letter to me let me read
it over again, though every word is deep gra-
ven on my hearts tablet, which is withering
and splitting with the records of sin and des-
pair. God forgive me, and forget my crimes,
but for one hour, till read her last letter ::
''--, ILLINOIS, Sept 1S5-.
My OwN DEAR Brother William ! [
am dying tell it calmly, because | have
made a covenant with death have been
the household sacrifice now let them gather
up the ashes. | have endured all, suffered
all for them and now | am almost free, and
the soul begins to plume its flight among the
angels Did they ever tell you that he Struct
me that he cursed the little sincss child
on my bosom, aad called it bas-- O |
tuIlbl W .lG tilN WI u, QNEl ~ Ill, IL - wv
dreadful. Would to God poor little Bell
would die that might carry her away in
my bosom and hide her under the mercy
seat If it were not for her | could die
without one struggle. Do you think VIII,
they wilt tell her of her mothers shame
O they have so Wronged me | am not
guilty, and here in my dcathchamber, with
the trailing pinons of death around me, |
swear to YOU my own dear brother, that
they have, O so cruelty wronged mel swear
it by him whose agony woke the sad echoes
Of Gethsemane
But must stop for tonight Will, will
finish it tomorrow. X JANE"
And " tomorrow" never came another
hand sent the letter after jamie was dead.
Let the murderer of my sister beware of
brothers vengeance 1t is well for him
that | have forgotten the voice of prayer,
or | would invoke on him curse so deep
and damning that it would drag him down,
down, beyond the vengeance of Omnicience.
And can it be that jamie is dead
The old tree is leahess in the forest
The old year is ending in the frost
The old wound, if stricken, is the sorest-
But they tell me of the rest beyond the
grave, where n million myriad voices swell
in one glad song of liberty for ever and ey-
er and jamie is there, sitting at the feet of
her who bore the contumely of the inlidel
Jews, until the quaking earth and rending
sky proclaimed her the mother of a GoD.-
Sierra Citizen
THE Loss CT A WIFG.-No man but one
who has been called upon to mourn the loss
Of beloved companion can appreciate the
beauty and trnthfulness Of the following ar
ticle which we copy from an exchange
In comparison with the loss of wife all
other bereayements are trihing. The wife
she who fills so large a space in the domes-
tic heaven she who busted herself so un-
wCarly from the precious ones around her :;
bitter, bitter is the tear that falls upon her
cold clay You stand beside her coffin, and
finn, K Ct the past. 1t seems an amber-col-
orod no,,| |waV, where the sun shono on beau
tirul flowers AM the stars hung glittering
overhead Foin y N.ou.1 the soul linger there ;
no thorns arc remembered, save those your
hands may unwillngIy have p''n'': nei
noble, tender heart lies open to your ihlno't
SIGHT. You think of her now as al ge"tle-
ness, all beauty, all purity. But she is dead
The dear head that has lain upon your bo-
som rests in the still darkness upon a pillow
of clay. The hands that have ministered
so untiringly are folded white and cold be
meath the gloomy portals whose every beat
measured an eternity Of love lies underyou
feet. The flowers she bent over in smiles,
bend now above her in tears shaking the
dew from their petals, that the yerdure
around her may be green and beautiful.
WRoNG is but falsehood put in practice.