The south-western. [volume] (Shreveport, La.) 1852-1870, 1858-11-24

made her a parsonage of considerable impor-
tance in our native village. have always
supposed that he learned the story of my de-
serion.
Il knew not why, but was pleased when l
heard that Sarah Wilmot had steadily refused
all offers Of marriage And I may, perhaps,
be pardoned for saying that imagination would
picture household Of which she was the con-
trolling centre and presiding genius, while !
was made happy by the constant presence Of
the only woman I ever loved. But this was
only in the hours that my wife's gay habit,
which she never laid aside, made most lonely
the long evening hours when she was away
| at the bali or party, the children sleeping, and
| alone by my desolate freside. All, those
were weary and desolate years.
Il wept for Annette when she died-wept
for her sad and fearful death-wept that after
all those years of companionship could not
feel then more utterly alone nor more deeply
heart than while she was with me-
an unlovcd and unloying wife She died of
virulent contagious disorder. Our children had
been exposed to the contagion before we were
aware Of its existence. They were removed,
but not until it was too late. One after another
| they sickened, and within month from that
fearful day on which the death angel entered
my house laid them all in the churchyard.
'After,a little l went back to business.
dared not afford myself any relaxation, but
plodded on the accustomed round. | was a
saddened; prematurely aged man, but there
was secret hope glimmering, ever brighter
and brighter, in my heart. A year after An
nette's death | took journey to the old town.
You can guess my purpose; it was to see Sarah
Wilmot-to humble myself before her-to ask
her to forgive me, and still to bless me by be-
coming my wife. . ...- .
''She still lived in the quaint, old farm house,
where her parents had died, l found, and l
betook myself thither, on a pleasant autumn
afternoon. l went trembling, yet hopeful, re-
solved at any rate, to pour out all my heart to
her, and then silently abide by her decision.
cat the door, l met with an unexpected
obstacle. They told me she was i'll, and could
see 10 one, but begged that my name nj ght
be mentioned to her, with the request that she
would see me when able | went in and sat
down to wait. | had not to wait long. The
servant returned, and | was ushered into the
room where Sarah awaited me.
"She had greatly changed. She had not
grown old, as I had, but still retained some
thing of the sweet, child like beauty that I re-
membered. But she was pale and wasted by
illness, and fearful cough racked her feeble
frame, and shook the large chair in which she
reclined.
Il cannot describe that reunion. Scenes
like that are too sacred for the investiture Of
common words-they must be silent memories
in loving hearts. Its enough that all was for
given, and the heart that had never ceased tc
beat for me, was freel y mine.
'Sarah resisted my entreaties that she would
become my wife, at once. Death was very
near, she assured me; and she was content to
die, knowing that still loved her, and priced
her love. l was more hopeful, and was right
'Froms mshatday she grew rapidly better Ere
T the close of autumn she ceased to resist my
importun|ties. and consented to become my
wife, and, at Christmas, took her to my home
There for one blessed year, watched and
tended her with the most devoted affection
But her seeming recovery had been illusive
She faded gradually away, and on the seconc
winter, L laid her beneath the snow wreaths.
'>YearB have passed since that day, but
have never been quite so desolate as during
those which preceded it. After all its sin anc
suffering, my life had one compensation, in tha
| was permitted to smooth the pathway tha
t my beloved trod, down to the very verge O
/. the dark river. She walks in the green field
| beyond its turbid waters, and, in the visions o
the night, see her beckon me toward those
far, shining shores, where, ere long. | hope tt
ioin her in a eternal reunion'
LINDLEY MURRAY.-Itis not generally known
says the Lebanon Advertiser, that Lindley
Murray was an American, and born withir
the presept limits of Lebanon county. He was
born in the year 1745, on the Swatara, in cas-
Hanover township. now Lebanon county. His
father was miller, and followed that occupa
ton when Lindley was born, but afterwards
devoted nis attention to mercantile pursuits
and realized considerable fortune by trading
to the West Indies. Lindley was the eldest O
twelve children, and when about seven year:
OF age, was sent to Philadelphia that he nigh
have the benefit of better education thar
could be had at Swatara. He studied law il
New York, and at the age of twenty two was
called to the bar, where he gained for himscl
the reputation of an 'honest lawyer.' Hi:
'grammar of the English language" was com
posed in England in 1894, and published ii
the spring of 1895, many millions of copies o
which have been sold. He resided in England
forty-two years, most of which time be vas ar
invalid. He composed many works besides the
grammar. He died in 1896 in village ir
Yorkshire, being upwards of eighty years O
age. He is represented as christian and q
philanthropist. He leftgegacies to nunibe,
of relatives and friends and sums of money tc
many religious societies. He also directed thai
the residue of his property, after the deceast
of his wife "a New York lady, his beloved and
afectionate Hannah, who had been his com.
pan!on for more than sixty years, should be
devoted to pious and benevolent uses. He was
a Quaker, and inferred in the burying ground
of that sect, in the city of York, far from friend
and fatherland.
RELIGIOUS NEWSPAPERS The acrimony and
rancor which distinguishes the most widely
circulated religious newspapers of New York
and Boston, received severe reprobation at the
late ministers meeting, in To]and county, Con
necticut, at which the following resolutions
were adopted, and ordered to be communicated
to the New Y ork Observer. Independent, Bos-