Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-02-23


stay. My heart goes out to you, Annie
Lynn. From others who have chanced at
long intervals to visit me, | have fled but
if you will sit at my feet, thus, and lay
your head in my lap, | will relate my his
tory
l did as requested /; and, as I changed
my position, noticed two pictures, which
had hitherto escaped my observation.-
They both represented men in the spring
of life !; but how different! One was slight,
almost girlish, with laughing eyes and gol-
den curls; the other, stern and grim, with
wild, cleaning orbs black, ttaEgied hair,
and bloodless face. | turneesg.@aJ shud-
dering, and my eyes fell upon still another
portrait hanging where red sunbeam
made halo aroundit, There was high,
full forehead deep, earnest eyes, shadow
ing forth family the great soul, which no
limner can portray and | gazed mute and
entranced upon the noble portrait, till the
low voice Of the strange lady interrupted
my musings.
My name is Martha Auber. | was the
youngest and pet of my family, consisting
of my father, tall, portly man, with bright,
blue eyes, light hair, and possessing sIhap-
py, genial disposition Nj mother, aEla!e,
brown-eyed, brown-haired woman, small
in stature, gentle, and lady-like. She was
the light of the household-a mother in
the truest, best sense Of the word. Nothing
outside Of the homc-circle interested her,
unless it could be made subservient to the
happiness of those whom she idolzed.-
She visited but little, and received but lit
tie company. She possessed Il ffTIosintel
lect, and delighted in surrounding her chill
dren with the useful in Science, and the
beautiful in Art and Nature; thus draw
ing our souls away from all that is low or
groveling in human nature, to the pure and
refined and to her is praise due for all the
goodness, which, innate in her own breast,
she transferred to mine There were two
brothers; the elder, Cat tho time of which
| am speaking, which is my first remem-
brance) Lincoln, a college graduate, and
Virgil, a young student just entering upon
his first year at Yale. Ny family y-name, |
should have told you, was Moreland, not
Auber.
The Old house, now so desolate the
yard, as you saw it overrun with weeds
and strewn with rubbish, were once cheer
fnl and beautiful.
when [ was just twelve, my eldest
brother died. remember him distinctly.
You see him there" she said, pointing to
the portrait where fell the sunbeam. |
bowed, and she went on. "That IS too
faded to give correct impression now
He was always thin and pale, inheriting
my mothers slender constitution and vigor
Of mind. looked upon him so quiet and
serious, so self-reliant and finely endowed
as superior bcing-very different from
my father, who was sanguine and talkative
and Virgil, like him, full of exuberant
life and activity. | remember he was fond
of walking, and his favorite resort was q
grove up and across the river. He used tc
allow me to run at his side !; and the per
feet tranquility of his demeanor soothec
and calmed the restlessness of my spirit
walked, in fact child at the side of 6
; mind towering and gigantic as the Alpine
> hills I gazed upon with such awe in my
q geography.
'He was no dreamer, no visionary. IL
e labored in practical way, and studiet
q works Of utility but in these walks, partc
: ularly in the dreamy Indian summertime
: his soul seemed communing wi5h some
Il thing beyond the mist-curtained sky; an,
at such times he talked strangely, mystc
a rousl y to me; not as if addressing mt
: but a flower or bird, star or cloud. II
: words left an enduring impression on m
! mind, but took no form. | was too youn
g to comprehend them, and doubt if coul
J. at this advanced period.
"He died one pleasant autumn mornir
7 sunk as one to slumber; and they la
10 him, amid our tears and lamentations,
8 the family burial ground, beneath the elm
q by the river.
W "Time will never obltcrate the wore
!. uttered by him few moments previous
So his death, when he thought himself alol
r with my mother.
t3 "The physician considered him in /
40 immediate danger; so Virgil with faith
as went out upon the farm to attend to SOL
,r- necessary business, and mother remain
"a with the sufferer, while !, haunted by
% strange fear, had crept into a corner
~ watch him who, l felt, would soon 90 aw
IN from US forever.
he he "My mother was weeping, her hand
al her eyes. He raised his own attenuat
hand, and, Withdrawing hers, laid it up
in his bosom, SAYING:
"My mother, it were better not to we,
ri This poor house is worn out ; the spirit
ri, too strong for its crumbling walls.
Of you not feel its struggles for freedom
-, Your love for me has been very dear a
j., + beautiful, and it is sweet to feel that it v
follow me even down to the dark wate
rn- into which | am about to plunge. Y
on can understand, my precious mother, t
child Of your soul-the peculiar one.
cit comes to me strong and impressi
rbs still toe misty to rightly define the impl
,bo sion that | have lived elsewhere than
nov this earth
My mother started, and locked app
r.s hensiye.
80. No, no p he said, surmising at what
w. passing in her mind. All through
present life | have walked, believing t
~, at some former period have existed i
" sphere-not as full Of life and beauty
90 this, however, can recollect nothing
hst tinctly, yet all confusedly; and, as | I
the grave, the belief becomes strengthen