The Kansas herald of freedom., 1857-02-07
PHILLIP G. SCHUYLER.


DEAR Mr.. BRowN:-When I wrote
you in November, / anticipated writ
ing you very soon-and often, ere
this time. But since the completion
of our house, I have suffered sadly
from the reaction of long oyer-taxed
powers; and from a depression of
spirits caused by the death of an idol
lied father.
Every time that l have taken up
my pen to write, that one deep, haunt
ing grief would paralyze my hand,
engross my thoughts and absorb every
feeling of nay soul. Ali inspiration
is gone, and a strange stagnation
comes stealing over all nay powers.
Part of my own life was buried in
the grave with little Mary, and now
the shadows deepen, and the world
seems still more dark and dreary,
without the brightness of my living
fathers love! That love so long has
cheered me in every sorrow, strength
ened me in every trial, and heighten-
ed every joy to me, that it now seems
almost impossible to exist without it
and / feel weak and powerless to
stem the tide of afaiction which threat
ems to overwhelm me.
In the midst of all the horrors
which so recently surrounded us, and
the dark clouds of adversely which
thickened about us, | sometimes
"Wildly deemed that nought remained below
For me to prove of yet untasted VICE."
But even then, this darker dispense
tion was hanging over us, and the
decree had gone forth which wrote me
fatherless.
Ever since / have known the holy
nature of a parents love-ever since
the first dawning consciousness of my
own childhood-I have shrunk from
this dreaded hour, and felt that it
would bs hard indeed to survive it.
In dreams this sorrow has been fore
shadowed, and in sleep it has hung
like horrid incubus upon me. Then
/ would awaken rejoicing. to thank
God it was nought but dream, and
beseech the All Merciful to spare me
the agony of the sad reality! Now,
alas! that great and noble heart, which
alnays throbbed with such warm af-
fection for us.is still and cold in death;
and the SHOWS Of winter lie lightly on
the lone spot, which contains all that
remains to us of the dear parent, who
has SO long and so faithfully loved
and labored for us.
"The music of my life seems broken,
Or changed in every chord since he is gone. y
And now, more thar ever, / grieve fol
the loss of all the home comforts with
which his love and his care had sup
piled US. Some of them can be oi
comparatively little value to the ruth
less creatures who appropriated them;
while to me they would be priceless
treasures, as associated with the mem
ory of the dear departed.
This blow falls more heavily upon
me, too, that l am so far away from
all my kindred and early friends. Af
ter we were driven from our dearly
bought home, last fall, and plundered
Of all our rights, for long time il
seemed There was nor flying hence
nor tarrying here )" but oh ! how
longed to leave this land of turmoil
and strife. to fly to the sheltering hom,
of nay childhood. l longed to re
fresh my worn and weary spirit one
more in the breezy shade Of our ole
poplar trees ] longed to rest m,
aching hsart-far away from the dil
Of war-in the sunny Wales and cher
ished haunts Of my early days
Natures voice was strong within MI
soul, but stronger. still sounded tn
voice Of conscience-"Thy work j
not yet ended here" Then we re
solved that we would not ke .'sa5daed'
or forced away-that whatever wer
our perils or sacrifices In this land oi
our adoption, we. would asrer leave j
while the struggle for freedom wa
pending; while there was the faintes
hope left for freedom to triumph, o
any chance for freemen to exist here
Thus, I could not fee from the fat
that bound me to Kansas could no
leave my a7duous duties here. TO g
even at my dying fathers call !
alone of all our household band. wa