The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1857-12-19

She was prudent in her seLfdiScjpitne
How many are the facts treasured in my
recollection to prove this! Sacred deposits
because they are not suited to be recorded
even in the most private mannerl BLESSED
recollections, because they furnish balm tc
a wounded spirit in the absence of thatloveC
one, who has ripened in my presence anC
society, for a state of perfect purity anC
bliss. Are these the visions of blind OF
partial friend | think not. She had enc
mics enough, and of the right kind, to ex-
empt her from the curse pronounced upon
those of whom all men speak well. Her
enduring record is in the heart of pious
friendships. A letter now before me, from
lady whose intellectual and Christian
character give eminent claims to her deci-
sions, says of her,-'She was my friend, my
intimate, my fellow-laborer in prayer and
sacrifice. How prudent, fervent and eff
cient she was, a wide circle of surviving
friends can testify. How lovely, self-deyo-
ted, and child-hke? Was ever before such
intellectual excellence and personal lowell
ness so mconsciously possessed, and so eff
GENTLY exercised?"
One other circumstance only, | shall here
record. While l sat watching her lifeless
body and seeking some sweet consolation
among her private papers, how bitter were
my reflections, when, in a manuscript book
OF extracts dedicated to her daughters, |
read in the last, evidently recorded few
days before her unexpected death, that
touching appeal from the Sketch-Book,
which closes thus: cart thou child, and
hast ever added sorrow to the soul, or a
furrow to the brow of an afectionate pa
rent? Art thou a husband, and hast ever
caused the fond bosom, that ventured its
whole happiness in thy arms, to doubt one
moment of thy kindness or thy truth7 Art
thou a friend, and hast ever wronged in
thought, or word, or deed the spirit that
generously confded in thee2 Art thou a
lover, and hast ever given one unmerited
pang to that true heart that now lies cold
and still beneath thy feet? Then be sure
that every unkind look, every ungracious
word, every ungentle action will come throb
bing back upon thy memory, and knocking
dolefully at thy soul; then be sure that
thou wilt lie down sorrowing and repentant
on the grave, and utter the unheard groan,
and pour the unavailing tear, more deep,
more bitter, because unheard and unayail-
ing" Memory, almost with the lightning's
speed, ran back to inquire what record
stood against that page. Oh, how did my
spirit sink within me, when | was then and
there compelled to look ON many things in
which | had treated too rudely her gentle
spirit. Iloved her indeed, always, and most
ardently. But easily excited and sometimes
Respondent, bitterly accused myself that
| had often neglected or ill-requited her
tender, and always devoted love. Times,
places, actions, words, all came rushing upon
my recollection to give in evidence against
me. And there she lay, my bold accuser,
silent in death, and there | stood a criminal,
self-condemned, beyond apology. for she
was beyond reparation. But why this cru
city at parting? almost accused her, but
selE-conyicted, the accusation recoiled with
unsupportable power on myself. As if con-
signed to dungeon, sat in silent and
bitter meditation, until letter, superscrbed
by her hand to a particular friend, forced
itself upon my notice. 1t was sealed. More
accusations, thought has she here eX-
posed me? | broke the seal. 1t was dated
the day before her sickness, and week
before her death. 1t was written in pen
sive strain, full of submission and Christian
hope. 1t mentioned with resignation, af-
hictions that weighed heavily on us both.
Then it added, Il should sink, but for di-
vine support, and the unwearied attentions
of my devoted husband, who is too kind,
and who gives me daily evidence that he is
sustained by divine grace, amid trials such
as few perhaps have been called to suffer"
This was enough. l breathed free again.
| was self-condemned, but she had reprieved
me. could endure self-reproach, but |
could not bear her reproach We had in
deed lived together in mutual harmony,
''helpers'' | hope ''of each others joys" but
my hasty spirit had sometimes been too
hasty. She had good sense enough to con-
slider my infrmity, and not retort, and she
had a forgiying spirit not to leave record
against me. She gently drew by this last
act, the arrow that quiyered in my heart,
and but for which, my life must have been
embittered by recollections, which repent
ance could hardly have alleviated. Oh that
every husband and wife knew their priyi-
leges, and the time of their visitation, and
thus prepare while in health, to drink the
cup which will be commended to their lips
at the parting scene.