Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1856-05-17


Circumstances. She was beautiful and yer,
lovely, bot did he love heri No. he did moi
Could he love herr Doubtless YES I, would
be vain to try not TO love one so very gentle
trusting and dependant. Her father had eyi.
henily seen all, and was willing that il should
be SO. Her brief life might have this ono
bright day Of sunshine this one hour of glad
ness, and then all would be over. He would
give all he had TO buy her life, but since that
might not be, he would buy her happines,
while she lived at any price. nd the young
clergyman saw all this, and then came across
his memory the splendid beauty Of Mary Pier
son, the magnificent dream Of his younger days,
and It fought with him but he conquered il.
None but he who has once experienced il
knows the tremendous power of memory. It
takes entire possession Of the soul like storm,
sweeping over all that has grown there and
taken deep root--all the flowers that have been
cherished, all the great trees that have grown
up in might and strength, all the webs Of fancy
that hang here and there covered with dew
drops.
/ But to oppose and overcome such power is
a victory that strong man may be proud Of
Such he achieved, and there was then calm
aiter the storm.
Deep peace was in the house and heart Of
the clergyman after he had married his young
wife, and peace, like river, flowed through
her soul
She was fainiing, falling out Of beautiful
world, in which she had found nothing but ioy
ill now. All her life she had heen the child
Of ease, pleasure and luxury. No wish had
boen denied. All that she wanted she had =,
and when it became evident TO her own unwill-
ing reason that the end was come, it was hard,
very hard. But love was now made perfect in
enjoyment, and she lay calmly on her husbands
breast for the few weeks that were to intervene
between the blessed moment when she called
him her own, and that moment when she must
I give away every thing, even his hand, his arm,
his love no, not bis love; she would take
that to heaven with her. to make it even more
glad aud hopeful there.
And he was happy, perfectly happy. There
was no shadow on bis heart. More and more
each day he grew to her, and as he so increased
in his love for her, there did begin to come
over him a dark cloud. lie looked to her
death with more and more fear, and sorrow and
apprehension. Perhaps it was selfish. Per;
haps he Eel, that he should again be delivered
over 10 the terrible power of that memory that
he had once. so well conquered. Perhaps he
did not love his wife with single love. and
therefore he shrank more and more from the
moment of parting.
Whatever il was, it grew on him, and he
looked fondly on her flce and forgot all the
past in her presence, that became more holy as
she approached the hour when she would be an
angel. And he did not know, that Sunday
afternoon, that the little church contained with
10 it all the hopes Of his life. all his means, all
iha, hs had vslrea IN hnyhnnd ar ia. .I.s ua,ur-
er affections Of manhood.
A yea- after, Philip winslow stood by the
bedside of his dying wife. Her black eyes,
overhowing with love Of him and hope Of heav-
en-, were Fixed with unu,terable JOY on his calm
countenance. Her white hand, white and thin
as The hand that the phantom Of dream waves
at US, lay 10 his. calmly, confdingly.
"Philp, my husband, say once more that We
shall meet again.
1--WE shall, dear wife, We shall, Thank
God that He has promised us that"
"Oh, Philip will wait for you in the hap
Piest valley IN that happy country. Do you
love me, Philip!"
"Dear wife !"
MAY God reward you for your love have
not been worth it, but oh, how you have bless
ed me with ii Il has been the breath Of Heav-
en- over me even here"
"A letter for you, SIR"
II was a servant entering the room with a
light step, who handed il to him. He glanced
at the direction and sharp pang shot through
his frame, and visible palor was on his face
He turned from the bedside, grasping il con-
vulsivcly in his hand, and staggered rather than
walked toward the window where the last rays
of the sunshine were streaming through the
hall-closed shutters. He looked at il again,
and sat down feebly, as il in pain.
Again the tempest was up. Again the wild
foods were over his soul.
Stern and terrible was the resistance he Of
fered, but it would have been all 10 vain, had
not the voice OF his wife come to his aid
"Phlip, Philip, come to me ~
He knew not out Of what a remote distance,
wha, far of wandering she was calling him.
But he heard her voice. He was not too far
away. II was in time, and he came. He
sprang to her, and 10 an instant he was here,
again, and all was forgotten save the peaceful,
joyful face that lay before him, looking so low
inely into his eyes.
She was dying. Swiftly now the silver
cord was slipping from the knot. She grew
paler, and more heavenly in appearance, while
she fixed her eyes more and more intensely on
him. She never varied her gaze Father,
mother, friends who were around her--none
eanghi that look of love, save he whose all
was here and forever. And, at length, whis-
pering, "PhiliP, hold INC close ~ and nesting
her head in his bosom, she closed her eyes on
his beloved countenanco-last vision Of earth,
last thought of time-and took il with her 10
the unseen world, as all she wished to take
from earth 10 heaven.
Three days anerwaId they buried her. And
when the lonesome man, with bowed head and
solemn step, entered his library, and gazed
around him sadly, he saw an unopened letter
lvino m his dask uharo earvanf had uIa~a1