Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1860-02-09


walk, being too much affected to speak,
Ever an anon he would pause and point out
marble slab, column or an obelisk, and
mention the names of the silent, dreamless
sleepers beneath them. Finally, be paused
before a new-made grave, with little
white headstone and, kneeling down be.
side it, said, Here she is, Willie look
ed down upon the little mound of earth.-
All loving hands had fashioned that grave;
no stranger had planted those close rows of
box around it; no thoughtless one had
placed those boquets upon it, now crispcd
and frosted by the chilly touch of winter
dewdrops.
1T is not long since I lost my mother
said Edward, 'but, after her death, Mary
seemed to love me more than ever-she
promised to Ell my mothers place, and to
be everything to me- Then kneeling a.
gain beside his Marys grave, he placed the
violets upon it, and said, with an eloquence
which affected me almost to tears, 'How |
wish that could see her face.' He then
asked if l believed that she saw him and
knew him and if thought that she knew
the desoation of his heart. l replied in
the affirmative.
He hoped not; he could not bear the
idea, that Mary saw him day after day
He was sure, that if such were the case,
she could not be happy while he was SO
miserable. He spoke of his utter desola
ton; his lifetime sorrow. Mary had been
beautiful-Oh. 50 beautiful Mary loved
him so tendcr.y; and, had she not been IA
ken from him, would have soon become his
bride
pitied Edward. So young, and yet so
utterly wretched so wealthy, and yet so
destitute. so promising and talented, and
yet so apparently despairing! As I looked
upon him, kneeling beside the little grave,
I pitied him from my hcart. Thoughts
came thronging into my brain-solemn,
awful, sable.hue thoughts then came
those mysterious emotions, for which hu-
man reason cannot account, but which
thrill the soul with potency like unto the
power Of death. VoiceS-low, gentle, win
ming voices-Scemed to come in upon the
soul. Voices from the rustliug willows 4;
voices from the coll, ghastly marble voices
from the clear, starry skies voices from the
old church, looming mp in the clear, mel
low moonlight; but the tone was ever sweet,
ever inviting, ever soothing.
Reader, you have heard these mysterl-
Gus voices often. You cannot tell ME what
was the burden of the language. particular.
ly; but, when the ropes creaked against the
coffin, as it was lowered into the dark grave,
have you not heard voice? What an in.
de6nable sensation swept over your soul, as
the coffin sounded upon the bottom of the
grave! What a mysterious chill passed
over your heart, as the clayey earth fell
with that dead, dull, heavy sound upon the
polished coffin-lid.
You have gnne to the grave the next
day; planted seedlings around it, and nice.
ly fashioned the mound but, all the time,
a voice has been ringing in your ears and
stilling your sorrow-smitten heart. There
is one voice, very misunderstanding like
the thunder tone, and shaking, with its
earthquake eloqueuce, every bud into a
full blown flower; strewing the graveyard
with the very stars of heaven, and dying
out in snow light cadences, or the dulcet
tones of music upon the nightimprisoned
waters. What are the words of Mut voice
They were first uttered among weeping
ones in far away burial ground more than
eighteen hundred years ago; they came
from the lips of one who was himself in
tears; and, since that memorable utterance
among the weeping mourners of dear old
Bethany, there has come no power to hush
the sublime voice of the lowly Nazarene :
! Il AM TIE RESURRECTION AND TIE LIFE y
! There are other voices to be heard in our
graveyards. Oh! when the heart feels
ever so sad, and the tears are falling, fal.
ling, falling; when the deep sigh rends the
heart, and the soul feels its utter desolation,
does not something seem to whisper in
your ears: Come unto me- can enter
into your feelings-T understand all about
your case-I can hush that 81 Oh; l can
quiet those heart throbs and wipe away
those tclrs-.,.ome unto me-
| The pious heart will extract comfort
from these whisperings, and feel within it.
self "a hope beTond the shadow of dream :
but alas Edward conld only think of Ma
ry in the gravc-Mar:, prey :or worms
Mary. gone from him forever! NJ Won
der, then, that her untimely death
Frosted the springing veriurc of his heart
As we stood together beside his darling's
grave, Edward told me that he was obliged
to use morphine auu other narcotics every
night, as sleep had fed from him since
Mary's death. All me. what resource
for an immortal being! Where was the
Peace be stil?' Where were the 'ever,
lasting wings that his bleeding heart
sought not refuge there? Where the
.Rock'-thc 'Tower'-the covert from the
storm? Right there to be had for the
mere asking; and yet, the poor mourner
calls for drugs, that he may sleep, like the
beast, which perisheth ; and leave
AN unscized heaven dying at his feet
Well. after remaining for somctine be-
side the grave, We walked silently away,
and once more stepped out oft his city of the
dead, and found ourselves upon the busy,
bustling street. | parted with Edward
some moments after, and watched him, un-
til, to my utter astonishment, he entered a
Jur rO0m